#dw i’ll still be lurking around

[ilyuu]

hiatus.

(dw you didn’t read that wrong,,, can you tell this is me trying to lighten the mood before i dampen it?)

that’s right folks. in bold (and in a pretty rainbow imo), i’m going to take something of a hiatus, or, at the very least, a semi one.

meaning i’ll fade form the surface of the earth and never come back………….

alright, alright, i’m kidding. it’s mainly because i feel like my mind is spiraling down in a bad place every time i open this app, relying way too much on it to the point that it’s unhealthy. really. it’s almost ridiculous. those few past days when i did leave the app alone, a week or two ago, for the lack of a better word, felt relieving to me and i also felt bad for feeling that way - do you see the pattern here?

that and i feel bad every single time that another day goes by and i’ve yet to post something for all of you - a drabble, or one of those smau snippets - and i know i shouldn’t be, as i’m not obligated to, like writing on here is as much as a choice as anything else, but the feeling stays and it gets only worse from there on.

to the point that, many times, i was very, very tempted to delete this blog altogether and add another one to bite the dust.

there’s also the recent milestone that i’ve reached, all 10000000000000 of you here and, at first, i was very happy about it. it was the highlight of my day until it faded and i was left with the question of “what now?” i don’t feel like writing as much as i used to, and every thing i put out there seems mediocre compared to everything else i see. in a way, or maybe it’s exactly that, i have no reason to try and keep up on this anymore and felt a bit like a wanderer (no pun intended, hehe) with every day that passes.

all in all, i feel, and excuse me for the language, like shit. everything just feels wrong to me while feeling like i could’ve done more.

so, for an indefinite amount of time, i’ll take some time off for myself. i’ll be lurking around here and there though, answering some asks (because it’s still summer break for me and what the heck am i supposed to do for the next two weeks?) but just less.

and to all my moots, thank you - this almost sounds like a goodbye and, i promise you, it’s not. thank you for making me feel better every time i interact with any of you, doesn’t matter what, it makes me happy enough just to be talking to you, really. it makes me happy knowing that you’re feeling alright, it makes me happy knowing that you have a path ahead of you, it makes me happy seeing memes, drabbles, and a whole lot of others things in my inbox - it makes me happy waking up in the morning and seeing all the chaos you make on my dash, and that i was able to meet and talk to you all. i’m just sorry i wasn’t able to reciprocate it all as much as i could’ve.

and so, take care! i love you all so very much! <3

[cxldblxxded]

hi so it turns out every available brain cell rattling around my skull is being put toward my thesis work which therefore means i have none left over to even think about writing. i have accumulated a lot of drafts and i owe several starters (if u liked my post from a few days ago dw i am not dodging u i am just Suffering™️) SO i will be on semi-hiatus for about a month, until after i complete my filming and give my brain a chance to cool off before the semester starts. i might cull some drafts for my own sanity when i get back since my current count is -checks notes- 86, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there!

if u wanna keep in contact i’ll still be lurking here so u can send me im’s or u can just hmu on discord. i likely won’t respond super fast bc again my attention is being put on the torture rack and pulled in minimum 4 different directions at once BUT i will do my fuckin best lmfao and little silly conversations are helpful for me when i’m fighting for my life against executive dysfunction and anxiety. any things i wanna rb will be slapped in a slow queue in the meantime just to maintain some semblance of activity while i’m away.

tl;dr local filmmaker is too strung out to play pretend with beloved reptiles :(

[apompkwrites]

Helloo, before I’ve just been lurking around your blog (love ur works btw) and thought of a little concept for little kingscholar (bear in mind I have not played twst myself so things might be a bit inaccurate)

Imagine they’re actually not forgotten. The elders put their all in their education and reputation- to an overbearing extent. Falena is a good king now sure, but he was young and they were unprepared (i think, correct me if i’m wrong). Leona ended up a lazy failure, so with the 3rd and last Kingscholar, it is imperative they don’t mess up! And by that, it’s fast-paced lessons taking place all day, everyday. Extracurricular activities every other week and sending little king into society early to introduce them to the real world.

It’s too much. The lessons fly by to quick they can barely comprehend anything. They’re activities always tire them out but they can’t rest, they have a party to go to that evening! But it’s hard to enjoy it between all the scrutinising stares from the other nobles. But the staring doesn’t stop back at the palace either. The elders have them under watch everyday to make sure they aren’t slacking. It could become a habit, and then we’d have Leona 2.0..and the elder definitely did not want that.

I’ll leave it there since it’s just an idea that I had. It could end up with little king running away, but the difference is that now their disappearance is of top priority. Knowing that, they would have to go father than the outlands (idk what it called help). I think that would lead to them running so far they end up meeting another black sheep. It’d be funny if it was either little shroud or little schoneheit (I CANT FOR THE LIFE OF ME REMEMBER HOW ITS SPELT….) since both are either ignored or judged by society but still have to remain perfect.

Ok fr this time i’m ending this here. Hope your doing well (Also if you dont mind, could i be 🦋anon? If thats taken then dw abt it)

Bye!

mm i really like the idea of the lessons being so overwhelming to a point where lil kingscholar cannot take it anymore. they run away, not because of any abuse, but because of the unintentional abuse they've been put through. they get no rest, no time to recuperate, just lessons.

i can imagine them running away to find lil schoenheit? idk i just like the idea of vil meeting two beastmen(people?) when he's younger :))

and yes yes id love a new anon :DD

[dabisnp]

so, idk when i’m getting my blog back (hopefully soon) but i’m gonna take this time to have a much needed break

i’m working on a collab piece atm for fallen angel!dabi so that is to come. but i’m just so fuckin’ tired y’all. i’m up at 6am, working till 5pm and gettin’ home at 6pm to then launch straight into uni until 9pm. i just really really need a break haven’t even hit assignment/exam season. i’ll be back before you know it <3

[onmyyan]

Hi its me again. I love your writing and the fact that there isn't as much abuse like there is in others. It reminds me of old yandere stories were it was genuine lovesickness. Anyway, how do you think jjba yanderes would react to a darling that is taller and more muscular than them by quite a bit. You can do whoever you like I don't mind.

A/N: Omg ily🥺 it means a lot you said all that because I really love this genre it’s my comfort trope anyway thank you for the request n I hope ya like it!! Kira should be a trigger warning in an of itself but dw he’s just weird, not mean. Mentions of his past ‘girlfriends’, a curse word or two, lil suggestive in someplace’s Mista murks a few people, tw//gun violence

Characters: Pt2 Joseph, Josuke, Kira, Mista

Joseph was used to looking down on people, standing at a proud 6’5” he was literally and figuratively knocked on his ass when he’d first laid eyes on you, his immediate thought was you were a forgotten pillarman coming from nowhere to get revenge for your masters only to quickly realize you were just a stallion. You were strong enough to put him on his back after one too many cheeky comments. Unafraid to speak your mind and keep him in check, You would stare down at him with that mind melting smirk, all too aware of his frustrations, you assumed he was just being a man, ashamed to be outclassed by someone other than himself, oh honey how wrong you were. You enjoyed teasing the behemoth of a man as no one else really could, at least not as well as you did, throughout your little jabs and snark he always had a retort, a response on the tip of his tongue, eager to do this dance of yours until one of you broke, to you he was a way too cocky dangerously self assured pretty boy who was entertainingly easy to rile up, but to Joseph, you were his everything. Someone he could proudly take home to Granny Erina once he’d finally tamed you. He had a plan, a three step plan to steal your heart just as you’d done his, and this little game of who could annoy the other the most was just step 1. “It’s been fun JoJo but you’re gonna have to find someone else to bother.” You’d jokingly said one day out of the blue, an odd friendship had formed through the month you’d been in town and it felt wrong to leave without notice, an act of kindness you’d learn to regret. “Is this one of your famous jokes (Y/n)? Not so funny to play with a mans heart like that I nearly believed you.” He finished with a scoff, his signature smirk not reaching his eyes. “It’s true Joseph, my flight leaves tomorrow, I didn’t wanna leave without saying goodbye, because as much as we fuck around you’re pretty fun to hang out with.” Your sincerity almost made him feel bad about rushing the next few steps of his plan, he’d have to cram months of planning into a night but he’d accomplished more with less time on his side. He huffed, his grin stretched wide across his handsome features. “Then we outta make tonight count eh?” A thick arm was tossed around your neck, you had to bend awkwardly for this to be possible much to your amusement. “Okay you weirdo, whatever you say.” You let him lead you around town with a grin, unaware you’d be missing that plane, and any other one you tried to take without him.

Josuke watched you eat with the dopiest grin on his face, he’d spent an extra hour in the mirror this morning in preparation for your first official date! Well you didn’t exactly know it it was a date and Okayasu was eating rather messily beside you two but still! You’d actually agreed to come to Toni’s with him! You’d been an enigma since you transferred to the bizarre town, choosing to keep to yourself, and despite the intimidating height and mass you possessed, he saw through your act in seconds. There was a huge softie under all that muscle, he’d watched you enough to know this as a fact, you were a gem and he was intent on showing you his appreciation and adoration for the rest of his days, a vow he’d silently taken the day you’d stolen his heart, the moment was brief in reality but it lasted forever in his mind, you smiled at him in passing, he could feel time slow down, everyone around you faded in the background, a backdrop to the beginning of your story. He could imagine telling your kids how you’d met, something about the way you’d stare down at him, eyes sharp and attentive, like you truly listened when people spoke, your laugh was loud when it was real and every time he heard it he felt 10 years added to his lifespan. At the same time that icky feeling at another person making you laugh was conflicting, he’d never been in love before but he suddenly understood why his mom had never given up on his dad, love was weird but he wouldn’t give it up for anything. You’d accidentally snapped your chopsticks laughing too hard at a joke he’d tossed out, your face scrunched in embarrassment before chuckling at yourself and switching to a fork, his stand came out on its own, pocketing the shards to fix later, a new item for his ever growing collection, what a cute little memento from your first date! His thoughts swirled happily with the stories you’d be telling your kids. Thankfully neither of you noticed his little pickpocket moment, dangerous plans forming as he stared at you with those misleadingly soft puppy dog eyes.

Kira could die in this moment, happily I might add, as your firm but soft hand was wrapped oh so deliciously around his throat threatening to crush it with ease at the slightest movement. He’d been watching you for a while now, the longest he’d ever spent on someone he didn’t plan to kill, it become sort of hobby he’d picked up recently, the morally upsetting activity bringing peace to his day to day, usually he used his stand to carefully observe your routine, eager to learn all he could about his future spouses likes and desires, but he was getting greedy. Of course he could always introduce himself but he resisted, knowing there was a time and place to get exactly what he wanted. He liked to think he knew everything about you by now, your favorite color, how you liked your coffee, your love for cats, but he didn’t anticipate this. You were much more observant than he’d given you credit for, while you couldn’t see his stand you could sense yourself being watched, and seeing the large blonde lurking indiscriminately in the crowds throughout the day was enough to set you off. So you trailed off into the less crowded parts of town quickly entering an alleyway, he followed in pure confusion only to be roughly slammed into the wall, his stand came out on reflex but simply stared at his attacker, it seemed almost confused as what to do. “Why the hell are you following me pretty boy?” His eyes rolled to the back of his head at the feel of your fingers tightening, god he’d never felt this rush of exhilaration, none of his past ‘girlfriends’ could pull such an illicit reaction from him with a simple touch. When he didn’t answer you simply scoffed and tossed him aside like it was nothing. You left with a threat to stay out of your sight, yet all he could do was smile, the faint imprint of your fingers burned in his skin deliciously, how lucky could one man get?

Mista observed you with hungry eyes. His stare was unapologetically locked on your form. He made no intention to hide his attraction for you. The day you’d joined Buccarati’s crew was the day his world flipped. He assumed his new teammate would be no one to fuck with based on what Bruno told him about your stand, but when you walked in? Needing to bend down slightly just to enter the doorway had him sweating in his seat. He didn’t know what to say as he watched you happily interact with his fellow teammates, immediately you blended with the group, but all that was running through his mind were all the fun things you could do with those muscles. He usually stayed silent around you, not out of dislike as one would assume from his piercing gaze, but fear of accidentally voicing one of those nasty thoughts kept him quiet. You didn’t seem to mind though, always including him in the conversation, you even understood his very valid fear of that dreaded number! How could god plop such a perfect person in his lap and expect him to not do anything about it? Alas, Bruno had specifically told them not to make you uncomfortable with any flirting so he bit his tongue. Your aura was calming, a contrast to your powerful stand, speaking of, he couldn’t get his under control. Whenever they could Sex Pistols was out and all over you. They climbed and clamored for your attention, thankfully you didn’t seem to mind, always entertained their antics when you could, even giving each one a small peck when they wouldn’t let you leave for a mission without Mista, to say he was done for was an understatement, it took one mission going foul for his resistance to snap. His stand moved faster than it ever had, piercing the skulls of the idiots who brought you pain. He left the last one slowly bleeding out kneeling down to wipe the matted hair from your forehead, “You okay baby? Don’t worry honey I’ll make the bastard hurt.” He spoke not breaking eye contact, his hand pointed behind him, grip steady as he unloaded in the poor fool who thought it was a good idea to make you bleed, the wound was small, not even deep enough to trouble Giorno but that didn’t matter to Guido, any slight against you was disrespecting the future parent of his children, and what kind of man would he be if he didn’t defend your honor?

[monaisdark]

Ok ok, just hear me out, I haven’t read any one shot or story with knife play and like, I’m kinda into that shit, no judgment plz, um but for my request I would love a dominant reader who’s a villain, paired with literally anyone, I literally just want femdom with a knife plz 🖤 I really like your content 🖤

FEMDOMS WITH KNIFES FEMDOMS WITH KNIFES THANK YOU !! decided to do some bakugou because yknow what - that man needs to be put in his place by a sexy villain lady goddammit !! also, dw about judgement here ‘cus there is a 90% chance im into it :’) ofc thank u for the ask bc yall’s brains >>> 

➨ paring — Pro Hero! Katsuki Bakugou x Fem! Villain! Reader

➨ warnings —  dubcon, Sub! Bakugou, Dom! Reader, knife play, blood play, begging, handcuffing

Bakugou didn’t know what even led up to this. It was late at night and he was on patrol, he does this all the time! Yet, you got him. He didn’t even have time to react before his gauntlets were knocked out of his hands, cuffs were put on him, and connected the chain attached to the cuffs to a fence in the alleyway.

“You fucking bitch!” He yelled, immediately trying to activate his quirk but it only amounted to a few sparks. “Huh?! —“

“Quirk cancelling cuffs. Crazy the things the black-market sells.” You lifted the hood of your coat, getting a little too close for Bakugou’s comfort. “Dynamight, huh? I was expecting more of a fight for a Pro Hero.” You were taunting him, the sounds of sparks echoing throughout the empty alleyway.

“Y’know, that’s the definition of insanity — doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.” A laugh left your lips, as Bakugou scowled, “You’re the crazy bitch here! What the hell do you want!?” Your tone darkened, grabbing his face. “Stop yelling, I might have to put a gag in your mouth.”

Bakugou couldn’t help but shudder, your touch was cold. And your eyes staring into his didn’t help him stay calm. Bakugou hasn’t felt this vulnerable in a long time. You captured him so easily, how has he never heard of you?

“The smart ones lurk in the shadows. Bet you didn’t even hear me!” You were back to laughing his face, you were able to read him so easily. He growled curses under his breath, thrashing around. “Ah, don’t be like that. I haven’t even done anything to you... yet.” 

“You low-life! Take these cuffs off and fucking fight me!” That was it, you pulled out a scary-looking knife, “A lot of people want you dead, I’m sure you know. If I were someone boring, you’d be lying in your own blood right now.” Bakugou could feel the tip of the knife though the fabric of his hero costume on his chest, his breath hitched. There was nothing he could do. 

“Mhm... even with quirks, I don’t think anything beats a good ol’ knife.” Bakugou could see the blood that stained the knife, you’ve used it before. “I’d rather have some fun with you, y’know? Not everyday you get to capture such a great hero.”  

“What the hell are you talkin — !“ A lick. You licked his collarbone, “Aha! You are so cute.” Bakugou froze up, he wasn’t expecting this. He tried to hold back a gasp when you started palming him. You were crazier than he thought.

“Shit, stop... stop this!” He wanted to move, just enough to kick you in the chest to get you away from him, but the knife was pressed so closely to him. Any more movement and he would have it piercing his chest. And even then, he’s still cuffed and chained, how will he fight you? “Ah, stop? But you’re getting hard, what monster would I be to give you blue balls?” You giggled in his ear.

It wasn’t long before you were crouching before him, the knife moving from his chest to his lower  abdomen, “Get the fuck away from me! I’ll fucking kill you!” Bakugou tried to cling onto his power. He didn’t expect you to listen, but like hell he’d let you get away with this so easily.

A smile spread on your face as you took his semi-hard dick out of his pants. “Such words for someone who’s turned on.” Bakugou’s breath hitched, damn his body for responding to you. “Don’t...don’t do anything — shit!” You were stroking him, bringing your mouth close to his head to give him kitten licks. He cursed as he felt himself grow fully hard now under your touch, much to his dislike.

“I have to say, you’re impressive. Now — “ You pressed the knife down on the exposed skin of his lower abdomen, Bakugou could feel a small blood trickle down from there. “Don’t try to fight back right now. I’d rather not plunge my knife into you right now.” You pushed him onto the cold concrete ground, moving his trapped hands above his head. 

Everything was rushing over Bakugou, he wasn’t one to not fight back. But the knife paired with your quick movements and those damn cuffs, he’s weak. Weaker then he ever imagined himself being around a villain like you. You crawled on top of him, not wasting time on removing your panties and hoisting your skirt up. You sat on his lap, his cock against the fabric of your skirt.

He could still feel the blood from his abdomen trickle down, a wince coming from him as he felt another small slice go with his previous one. “Sorry! Couldn’t help myself.” Your voice was oddly smooth, it was like it was tickling Bakugou’s every being. Maybe it was the blood rushing through his body but he couldn’t deny you were attractive. Bakugou tended to focus on his hero work, he had no time for women even as a Pro Hero. 

Bakugou was becoming puddy in your hands, your gloved hand stroking him as the knife trailed his torso, a small a trail of blood being left behind. He tried to hold his panting, but he couldn’t help it. It made it worse seeing you lift yourself from his lap, not wasting time on plunging yourself on him.

“Ah, aha... A snug fit, right?” Bakugou was fully a mess now, you felt amazing. “No... shit — get... get off! You...you bitch!” He didn’t want you to stop. His pride was getting over him, what if someone saw him? He was a Pro Hero - a damn good one as well - and he let a villain with cuffs and a knife get the best of him? He should hate this, yet his pants and moans were showing otherwise. He was even bucking his hips slightly!

“You’re so mean!” Bakugou winced as he felt stinging again, this time on his upper thigh. You cut him again. “Say sorry.” You demanded, your knife teasing another slice to his thigh. Bakugou stayed quiet, clenching his jaw as he felt you going up and down on him. “Say sorry!” This time you were louder, another stinging pain hit Bakugou, a second cut to match the previous one on his thigh.

Bakugou couldn’t even open his eyes or mouth, how pitiful did he look right now? Say sorry? You’re the one doing this to him! You were making him such a mess, he’s the one that’s supposed to be stronger! 

“How childish. You can’t even say two words yet you’re panting like a dog right now! Let’s see...” Bakugou felt you stop moving and the knife move to his neck, he wanted to curse. You can’t tease him like this. “I wanted this to be fun but you can’t just let your stupid superiority complex go, huh?” Friction, he needed friction desperately. The knife was cold like you, but your cunt was so warm. Please just forget about it and move, wasn’t tying him up enough?

“Fuck... move, just move.” He didn’t want to have to beg, that’ll confirm you have the upperhand. “Mhmn, not until you say sorry —” You stopped for a second, a devious smile forming, “...Actually, if you want me off you so bad...” You lifted yourself off of him slowly, teasing him as he could no longer feel your soft insides around him. 

God, he hated this. He was so hard it hurts, a string of pre-cum was forming at his tip. He was sweaty and red despite the weather being cool. You still sat on him, even without him inside you, he could feel your soaked, warm core that contrasted your body. Your eyes staring down on him like he was a deer and you were a hunter. You wanted him to beg. 

Bakugou struggled to form a sentence, he was out of breath and half lidded. Words that he never would have expected himself to utter came out, “Inside... back inside. I’m sorry! P-Please, please, put it back in!” A tight, warm feeling engulfed around Bakugou’s cock again, he missed it. A smile spreaded on your face, not one of deviance but one of joy, “Ahah, you see? How hard was that?” You removed the knife from his neck and opted to trailing it along his lower stomach. 

You beat him, Bakugou was enjoying this. He didn’t care that you were a villain anymore, or how you had the upper hand in all this. Hell, you could use that knife all you wanted on him! Just bounce on his cock, that’s all he wants.

He could feel you pulling him in every time you thrusted yourself on him and Bakugou was brought to the edge each time. He was beginning to twitch and you seemed to notice too, slowing down to drag out the feeling you gave him. “Do you want to cum inside?” He nodded profusely, “Use your words.” He has to beg to cum? He truly has to give up all his control.

“Please! Ah! Cum inside... let me cum inside!” Bakugou was loud, it was a surprise nobody ventured into the alley with all the sounds of skin slapping and moans. Perks of shitty, small neighborhoods. Nobody gave a fuck. Not that he wanted anyone to see this anyways, this was certainly a way to be ‘defeated’ by a villain.

“Go ahead — you’ve been so good.” You left the knife on his stomach but with the way Bakugou was breathing, the tip of the metal could poke him still. You let him buck his hips into yours, leaning down to grab his head with your free hands to give him a kiss on the forehead. He wasted no time in filling you up, the way you continued to bounce on him despite him cumming already brought him over the edge to another orgasm. 

After what felt like hours of warmth and tightness, Bakugou was a mess. Everything was clouded in his head, he just came in a villain. And he liked it.

He could the weight of your body get off of him, grabbing the knife from his stomach and tucking it in your coat pocket. Bakugou cursed himself for missing your touch, the cold from the air was different from the cold of your body and knife. “Be good and don’t do anything, hm?” You dangled the keys to the cuffs and chain above him. He nodded — not like he would anyways, he was smitten. 

As you uncuffed him, Bakugou didn’t even try to attack you, which was great for you. He didn’t say anything, looking at the ground though his breath was heavy. He felt a piece of fabric fall on his lap, your panties. “Parting gift.” You laughed but Bakugou felt his stomach begin to turn. As you walked away without another word, he could feel panic build up slightly — he still knew nothing about you. 

He wasn’t mad like he should be. He wanted to see you, feel you. All he could do for now was hold the fabric close... the thought of you still fresh in his mind.

[star-wars-multishippers]

Get to Know Me(me) - The Members of SW Multishippers!

This was an event hosted on the Discord server to do a sort of re-introduction of both old and new joiners to the server. Everyone who wanted to participate filled out the survey below to share a little about themselves and about their faves in fandom.

Survey (for anyone who wants to join in below in the comments):

Who Am I? - Name, username on other sites, mini bio if you'd like Where do I fit into the SW fandom? - Prequels, Sequels, EU, etc. What do you do? Fic, art, lurking and reblogging? My Top Faves - 2 or 3 max please! My Own Stuff - 1 or 2 max please!

MBlair

Who am I?

MBlair both on Discord and on AO3, maggzblair on Tumblr (MBlair, maggzblair)

Where do I fit into the SW fandom?

Mostly lurker/reblogger/occasional writer, mostly Original Trilogy and Sequel trilogy.

Fics I Love to Rec

Of Queens, Knights, and Pawns (and associated fics) by chancecraz

Hand of Fate by sweetestcondition

My Fics I Love to Rec

Reyuxmas 2019

A Wonderful Winter on Hoth

I’ll Love You ‘Til the Suns Burn Out

feckyeslife

Who Am I?

Feckyeslife#2003 on Discord, firelord65 on AO3

Where do I fit into the SW fandom?

I'm pretty solidly a Sequels fan, but I have a special place in my heart for the Prequels. I'm a fic writer who dabbles mostly in canon universe AUs, what ifs, that sort of stuff. Primarily my fics have Rey with a tendency to focus on the First Order characters and plots.

My Top Faves

A classic Reylo fic from an old friend - Beneath the Facade. It technically has a prologue fic before it in the series, but this piece was the one that I really enjoyed way back in the EARLY days of Reylo.

Because I'm an insufferable Reylux fan, I have to rec at least one. This piece by @every-day-is-star-wars-day  a oneshot that ever so masterfully crushes my heart every time - Thread

My one Original Trilogy rec, this is a beast of a long fic but so, so good - Dark Times

My Own Stuff

Reylux, medieval AU - La Vita Primus - is the first in a small series of this AU

Reylo, TROS Fix-It - Oh but it's a dark future, my star. Oh but it's a soft morning for us soon.

apple-au

Who Am I?

Call me apple. she/her/hers. I’m gold_pen_leaps on dreamwidth, ao3, and pillowfort. @gold_pen_leaps@tenforward.social on mastodon. I am doing my best to boycott tumblr, but I've been known to use a tumblr link embed on pf from time to time. (gold_pen_leaps (DW), gold_pen_leaps (AO3))

Where do I fit into the SW fandom?

I’m mainly into the Sequels and the Mandalorian. I joined the server for Hux/Kylo/Rey and all the combinations of the characters in my ot3. I can edit better than I can write. Sometimes I comment on fics.

My Top Faves

A Dance of Titans by @lucidlucy is a really long reylux fic. The delicious slowburn makes all the flavors combine in an amazing way. Love how they battle the main villain!

My Own Stuff

I helped give feedback on the second part of a series. Does that count? This is knight_of_dance's fic. It's really cool to see writers' takes on Modern AU, and this one has influenced my ideas of what sort of kinks those characters have. :smirk: Switch Up

Mizz

Who Am I?

 hi! tho im much more...a lurker around here im mizz (she/they/he). im badarmada on tumblr, badwrong-gimme on pillowfort, gimmemrss on twitter, badwrongprincess on ao3 (i have so many usernames XD, ive got a dreamwidth, wordpress, and art insta too if youre interested lol)

(@badarmada, gimmemrss (twitter), badwrongprincess (AO3))

Where do I fit into the SW fandom?

i liked the prequels as a kid (still do kinda), rouge one, i do like clone wars tho i havent finished it and the sequels (well tfa and tros tho only one of them is good imo) i reblog stuff mostly and read fanfic, tho i write some stuff too. finn is my fav and pretty much my center character (ie the one i focus on the most) and i like most finn ships (favs being finnhux, finnlo, finnrey)

My Top Faves

the things we do for love by glare is an unfinished finnlohux fanfic that i love a lot

worlds are built for two by synergenic (Losseflame). this is a poefinn fic from finns pov

My Own Stuff

um...im still working on this fic -(Be More Chill, Hux) very slowly this year has been super hard on me writing wise and ive been drawing ocs and for another fandom mostly but I will finish this one day!

Arsanimo - Marion

Who Am I?

Hi, I’m Arsanimo, self taught artist and nerd from Germany that’s mostly lurking. You can find me with this username on tumblr, twitter and instagram. I draw mostly Reylo at the moment. ( @arsanimo, Arsanimo (Twitter), Arsanimo (IG))

Where do I fit into the SW fandom?

I‘m in my thirties and an OT fan since birth, because my dad was obsessed with Star Wars and we watched it a lot as kids - they are the go to christmas movies in our family. Even as a very small kid I loved Vader. I didn’t like the ST quite as much when it came out in cinemas but still watched them multiple times. I’m much more fond of them now. But my love for Star Wars really got renewed with the ST. I really liked TFA and TLJ a lot. Not a great fan of TROS though, but to each their own. I recently started watching TCW, if you haven’t go watch it! The Mandalorian is also great and feels more like the OT for me, which I love. Oh, and R1 was awesome, I loved that one! Solo also was good. I think I will be a lifelong fan because it’s such a rich universe and everybody can pick a favorite. I’m also good at ignoring the parts I don’t like, lol. But I‘m mostly exhausted about all the drama on social media, so at the moment I take a bit of a break from social media and only post from time to time. And I’m of the firm believe to ship and let ship and if the art and fics are good, you can also find me enjoying ships outside of Reylo (honestly, some Kylux art out there, woah... and Finnrey is always so tender but Stormpilot has two hot guys in it... and don’t get me started about Finnrose! You probably get the gist)

My Top Faves

It’s hard to name so few, there are so many good artists out there. But Winter of Her (Twitter) has some outstanding art in her own style. Than I really like the style of Khallion (Twitter), check her out.

My Own Stuff

And last but not least two pieces of mine that turned out pretty good

https://twitter.com/arsanimo/status/1275789997426311173?s=21

https://twitter.com/arsanimo/status/1258757927910989825?s=21

Knight_Of_Cookies

Who am I?

Allo allo, I go by many names but many know me as cookies here. Lol I'm from the US and I've been a lifelong A+, gold star , nerd my whole life. I love writing among 5 million other hobbies. I am on Tumblr and A03. (@knight-of-cookies, Knight_of_Cookies (AO3))

Where do I fit into the SW fandom?

It all started with the prequels which I fell in love with and even wrote my first fan fic on. (I dragged it from fanfic.net to A03 for my own form of personal torture) I dropped out of star wars until I was in Japan and a close group of friends got me to watch Roque One and play a star wars based table top role playing game, which dumped me back into this fandom hardcore. I fell in love with the sequel trilogy and now I'm stuck forever. Lol

I have been writing on A03 for around 2 years now for star wars and it's been the most productive and progressive work I've ever done thanks to ya'll.

Also, hey, I created this multishippers discord, because multishipping rocks and everyone should do it. :P I know I've never active enough but I love this space and the people in it! My fav part about multishipping is how I'm always discovering yet another ship that is awesome. It never ends. ^^

My top favs - (of things no one should be surprised by)

Beastie by @feckyeswriting. It spawned a written series(multiple actually)

Glutton by Witchoil. Just very good dark and wonderful kinky smut. Always go back to this one.

In the house that skywalker built by @aicosu. This story got me into Reylux in a way I'll never recover from.

My own stuff

Nothing but Themselves - This is my favorite beast of a story I've ever written and it will be beautiful when I finish it. One day. Lol

Tanzaku - One of my most polished pieces thanks to the Reylo Anthology. My best combo of: insert culture nerding here and captive Ben as personal tropes.

[emilou-keen-gear]

Launchpad calls Darkwing Duck while at work. (fanfic scene)

           Darkness was a source of fear for everyone; it was the place where the unknown lurked in the shadows. It could be a monster, a villain, or a knife poised to strike. The unknown kept people inside at night, off the streets, and safe in their homes. But sometimes when the sun goes down, citizens must leave safety and walk the streets, trekking where the shadows could touch them, only streetlights and store signs keeping the darkness at bay.

           And even that wasn’t enough.

           But in St. Canard, there was one person that didn’t fear the darkness. He was there to fight those with evil intensions. Those who had to venture out late at night did so with the belief that someone in the shadows was willing to be the fence of vengeance, protecting them from the monsters that crept through the night.

           And that person was Darkwing Duck.

           And Scrooge McDuck, who had generously loaned him the money at a low interest rate to provide him with the gadgets he needed to fight crime, to hide his identity, and to payoff that copyright suit against the creators of the Darkwing Duck TV series. So, St. Canard had two people to thank.

           But mostly Darkwing Duck.

           And Drake Mallard was happy to serve the city, taking none of the credit. Each night, he tried his best to live up to the name of Darkwing Duck, his hero and idol. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t that good at it, or that he only had his skills as an actor to start out with, or that nobody actually knew who Darkwing Duck was, or that he had to start his life completely over by moving to St. Canard and the only job he could find was working in a rubber duck packaging plant.

           No, none of that mattered because as long as he could fight crime and save lives, he was happy.

           A red light blinked on the computer board on his motorcycle, indicating an alarm had sounded on his system. It looked as if evil didn’t take a break, not even on a Wednesday night.

           “Ah-ha, the St. Canard Museum of Shiny things,” Darkwing said to himself. He touched the screen, and it drew out the fastest path for him to get there. “It looks like the new exhibit on jade statues is attracting an audience after hours.”

           He threw open the throttle and sped toward the museum.

           A block away, he saw a car shift in gear and peal out in front of the museum, bright headlights coming toward him. A bike playing chicken with a car was just stupid, and if Darkwing was anything, it wasn’t stupid. But no matter where he turned, the car mirrored him.

           At the last minute, Darkwing turned, to the right to prevent a collision. The car swerved with him, nicking his back wheel and causing the motorcycle to fishtail across the road.

           Expertly, Darkwing gave the bike enough gas to straighten before skidding into a sharp, decelerating U-turn, leaving a streak on the asphalt. He gunned the gas, the motorcycle leaping forward with the front wheel lifting up.

           The fleeing jewelry thieves turned a sharp corner down another straight, thinking that they could lose him. But they were wrong. When it came to speed and high-speed maneuvers, a motorcycle definitely had the advantage.

           They turned down several corners, and each time Darkwing closed the distance between them until he was right on their tail.        

           With every fiber of his being concentrating on the chase, the sound of his cell phone jingled in his helmet’s speakers playing the Darkwing Duck theme song on loud jolted him that he practically leapt in his seat, losing control of his vehicle for a few seconds.

           He jammed a finger on his motorcycle’s touch screen, intending to send the call to voice mail, but slipped on the answer button.

           “Hey, DW. What’s up?”

           “Launchpad?”

           “Yep, that’s me.”

           “Launchpad, I can’t talk now. Can I talk to you later?” Darkwing shouted into the microphone.

           “Okay, I’ll make it quick. You see, I have this really good friend. She’s been my best friend forever, and I kind of forgot her birthday, so I have to get her something good. And…well, she’s a huge Darkwing fan…”

           “Uh-huh,” Darkwing said, only half-listening. Only faintly above Launchpad’s words did he hear a car window being smashed, spotting the glint of something poking out the back window. He didn’t know what it was until he heard the BANG of a pistol.

           “Launchpad!” he shouted over the gunshots as he performed a serpentine maneuver. “I’ll have to call you later.” He slammed his hand over the end call button, then reached down for his gas launcher.

           New to crime-fighting, he had only a few times had a chance to use his gadgets on actual bad guys, and not successfully every time. And that was when they were standing still or running away. It would be a miracle if he made this shot.

           “Suck gas, evil-doers,” he said through gritted teeth, hoping that the catch-phrase would bring him luck. He tensed his muscles as he pulled the trigger, feeling the kickback once the gunpowder was ignited.

           An arc of smoke flew toward the car, sailing past the broken rear window which was where he was aiming. Instead, the canister of gas landed on the hood and somehow stayed lodged on the front of the car, billowing thick gas. The car swerved back and forth across the road before meeting a sturdy street light, stopping the car cold.

           Breaking to a stop next to the car, Darkwing looked inside the vehicle, seeing through the gas three bodies inside. He opened the door tentatively, but nobody moved. Either the gas had knocked them out or the crash did. After checking their pulses, he slapped handcuffs on them and remotely called 9-1-1 for a police car and ambulance.

           “The authorities can take it from here,” he said with a smile when he heard sirens. After one last check, his motorcycle roared away.

           In an alley not far away, he listened to the police radio, learning that the pieces that were stolen from the museum had been recovered and the thieves were either on their way to jail or the hospital with a police escort.

           “A job well done,” he congratulated himself, crossing his arms. That was when his right fingers felt something off about his costume. Feeling around, he found a hole the exact size of a bullet. “Oh, no.” Even though he felt no pain, he carefully examined his arm, searching for a wound that wasn’t there.

           “It must have missed me barely,” he rationalized with a sigh of relief. Yet, something didn’t seem right. Even though he was still whole, his brain couldn’t figure out why there was no exit hole in his costume.

[chroniclesofcake]

TMNT- Element Collision

*Yes, this is my story that I had gotten from my dA account, written a while ago in 2014*

I’ll be posting more of this story, dw :)

In this AU, they are not related whatsoever!!!

Chapter 1: Hot leather whips the backs of the innocent men, as they are forced into cage trolleys. Cackles from the abductors ring out to the rest of the small indian huts. Children sobbed their hearts out as they saw their fathers being snatched away like animals. Mothers would plead by the captors’ waists and beg for the return of their husbands, but in return had received lashings from their superiors. All but a little sea green turtle on the dirt road. Blood ran down his face, like water from a leaf. Alas, he wouldn't move, for he believed that someone would take him home. To take him away from the dangers of the world. His eyes revealed the brightest sapphires, shaken from fear. To his beliefs, he didn’t know why would he be left behind. Every moon, since he was isolated, he wouldn't think about food, water, and any type of necessities. All he could think about was a home. A place where the bed wasn’t the road. Years later~ At the central market place, there were a variety of stores and stands. They included a variety from fruits and vegetables, to clothing, and everything in between. Standing at one of the fruit stands, was an old balding cat. He was feverishly attempting to sell day old oranges. He was even resorting to bargaining for them. But he would never just give them away, not without payment. Lurking from the shadow, was a steel blue eyed terrapin. “What’s for lunch today, old cat,” the terrapin murmured. The old cat, oblivious to the blue eyed terrapin, was darting over to get more supplies from the sack to put on display. With a fatal swoop of his hand, the terrapin dashed and grabbed all the oranges he could get in the worn down satchel. The terrapin heard from behind, a very red in the face cat hissing profanities for the stolen goods. “Sucker,” the orange thief snickered away. While running on the dirt ground, he ran past some of marble pillars which lead to the lush courtyard garden. Hiding by the marble door arc, he saw a cluster of small animal children. They were clothed in rags, barely nourished by the small amount of greens that the caretaker had given. Not being able to hide his excitement, the turtle emerged from the shadows. “Mikey!!! You’re here,” the little children squealed with excitement. “Hey my little munchkins! How are you guys doing,” Mikey quickly hugged each and every one of the 20 kids. “We’re doing ok, just hungry,” a little girl kitten whimpered. Just by looking at these kids, it made Mikey remember how tough it was on the streets without a family. It was as if he were looking into a mirror. “Well you’re in luck, because I bare gifts for everyone,” Mikey chirped with glee, revealing the satchel full of oranges. The caretaker and children went ballistic, cheering for day old fruits. Completely unaware of his surroundings, Mikey didn’t sense the looming shadow from the distance. As the children and caretaker dined on the stolen fruits, they saw a huge figure appear behind the teen turtle. The little girl kitten screamed, making Mikey turn around to see his stalker. Behind him was a taller forest green turtle, with blue warrior markings near the eyes. Noticing all of the markings on the larger turtle; the younger terrapin could tell he was little older than him. “I saw what you did back there,” the forest green terrapin remarked. Mikey felt shudders as the larger terrapin spoke. He had a deep sensual voice, as if he could make anyone fall to their knees upon hearing him speak. The feature on him that stood out the most were his eyes. They looked as if they were murky gray blue. So cold of a stare, yet a playful feeling laced around them. The younger turtle glanced down at the larger terrapin, to find two twin warrior katanas, and a forearm guard with the symbol of the imperial army. “No. Not this again,” Mikey felt a deathly chill run up his spin, suddenly remembering that horrid night. In sudden remembrance, the little turtle took a step back. This man resembled the men that took the innocent village men away. To battle. Shaken with fear, the little terrapin fled away from the courtyard. He was not going to be taken away to a torcherous fate. “Wait! Come back kid,” The older terrapin commanded, the authority not mistaken in his voice. With the speed of a tiger, the older terrapin chased after the younger terrapin. Being light on his feet, Mikey was much faster than his chaser. Jumping from stand to stand, as he tried to escape his imperial stalker. Feeling his endorphins kick in, Mikey did a backflip off of one of the vegetable carts, thus causing the cart to tip over. Creating a block in the path, enabling the larger terrapin from crossing. “Not today old man,” Mikey shouted, feeling the burn in his calves. “Who are you calling old, I’m twenty-one,” the forest green terrapin spat back in disbelief. The nerve of this boy was unpredictable. He couldn't believe the agility that the sea green turtle possessed. “Even though he has agility, doesn't mean he doesn’t have stupidity,” the older terrapin smirked. Mikey reached the end of the market. “Shit,” he groaned as he looked for a quick way to create a diversion. The only distractions Mikey had left were a few food vendors. Searching left and right he saw a table that looked like it would create plenty of chaos to allow him an escape. He ran to the table. Feeling the burn in his legs as he ran, he knew it was an all or nothing shot. As he went to knock the table over, he felt his legs buckle. He fell to the ground, up setting the table as he used it to try to catch his fall. “You’re not getting away this time,” the older terrapin stated as he drew one of his swords. He came closer to the the younger turtle. “Shit shit shit,” Mikey scrambled to get up from the dusty ground. But it was too late for him. The larger turtle grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him up. The moment Mikey felt the forest green terrapin touch him, he felt a spark on his shoulder. “What the hell was that,” Both turtles questioned. “Listen old man, get your pedofile hands off of me,” Mikey growled, feeling threatened. “Wouldn’t dream of it toddler,” the older terrapin proclaimed “What the hell do you mean by toddler, I’m eighteen, asshole,” Mikey threatened, trying to kick the terrapin in the balls. “Yeah, not going to kick me there, are you,” The terrapin stopped Mikey’s foot from kicking him. “Was trying to, but you’re too fat to get my foot across,” Mikey grumbled “Listen I’m not going to fight you, but you need to stop trying to assault me,” The older terrapin smirked. “Oh, you out of your god damned mind?! You were trying to assault me with your pedo self,” The younger terrapin snapped back. “I’m twenty-one, for your information! Do I look like I’m forty,” the unknown turtle questioned. “Well-” Mikey considered. “Don’t even answer that,” the large terrapin was getting annoyed. “Who the hell are you, and what do you want with me,” Mikey retorted as he was getting up from the ground. “Listen pipsqueak, my name is Leonardo, but you may call me Leo,” Leo responded calmly as if he did not experience the chase of his life. “Ok Leo, well first of my name is not pipsqueak, shorty, or anything stupid like that,” Mikey rambled on. “My name is Michelangelo. But, you will call me Mikey, or I’ll kick your ass,” Mikey attempted to act tough towards a guy way stronger than him. Both turtles felt something in the air that wasn’t normal. It was as if the air was suffocating them; bringing them close together. “Ok Leo, you have to back up cuz you’re taking all the air in my bubble,” Mikey unconsciously took a step back. Leo didn’t seem phased with this, considering that this turtle was still young. That didn’t mean that he couldn’t tease the younger terrapin a little more. “Well I think most of the air is going to your brain, but it’s alright,” Leo saying it as nonchalantly as possible. “Hey! Watch your mouth,” Mikey was getting steamed by this. “Well I’m sorry if I offended you in any way Mikey,” Leo giving a signature smirk. Mikey felt in somewhat of a daze at the sound of Leo’s voice. “Wow, he’s sounds kinda...nice saying my name,” Mikey wondered. “Let’s get back to matters of business. Why did you steal oranges from Mr. Neko,” Leo interrogated, no mercy to give. “Listen here, Imperial guard, I did what I had to do to get food for my little ones,” Mikey felt the urge to kick Leo in the gut. “Wait a minute, little ones? Does this guy have kids? He seems unbelievably young to be a dad,” Leo questioned in his mind. Mikey saw Leo’s questioning stare, until it clicked to him. “Dude, they aren’t my kids, they are like my family,” Mikey quickly covered up the matter. “That now makes a lot of sense,” Leo feeling relieved. Why was he relieved? “Ok Mikey, just don’t do that again, and you won’t have to deal with me,” Leo looked down at Mikey, with a small laugh trying to escape. “Alright Pedo,” Mikey scampered away laughing. “I’m not a Pedo, you brat,” Leo yelled, then received complaints from the nearby vendors. Sunset was just dimming down, raising the moon up in it’s place. “I have to make it before the fire starts, otherwise I’m not going to get a good seat,” Mikey grumbled as he sprinted off to the beach to find his village mates. “Mikey! Michelangelo,” The villagers cheered. This was truly Mikey’s domain. “Ok people, I told you I wasn’t going to sing tonight,” Mikey replied in a raspy voice. It took him the whole week to practice that voice. Standing from a distance, once again was Leonardo, wondering where the racket was coming from. To his surprise, he saw the younger sea green turtle sitting in the circle of villagers. One of the villagers saw Leo from a distance, and dragged him into the group. To Mikey’s surprise, the older terrapin came forth. “Leo? What are you doing here,” Mikey questioned, shocked to see him at the bonfire. Leo’s initial reaction was seeing Mikey, with the glowing embers lighting his face. It was a sight for sore eyes. Shaking his head from the ridiculous thoughts, he proudly responded, “Well the rest of the village wanted me to sing, saying I looked like I had the vocals.” With a cocky smile, Mikey retorted, “oh yeah, why don't you put your money where your mouth is?” “You’re on, Mikey,” Leo’s smile broadened. He picked up the guitar one of the villagers brought along, getting ready for his performance. (play song link from the bottom) Jao Na Don’t go Tum Jo Ho Toh Gaa Rahi Hai Yeh Hawa… As You’re there the winds are singing Tum Jo Ho To Reshmi Si Hai Fiza… As You’re there the breeze has a silken touch Jao Na Don’t go Tum Jo Ho Toh Gaa Rahi Hai Yeh Hawa… As You’re there the winds are singing Tum Jo Ho To Reshmi Si Hai Fiza… As You’re there the breeze has a silken touch Jao Na Don’t go Ho… Phir Na Yeh Raat Aayegi This night won’t come again Phir Na Yeh Rut Chhayegi This atmosphere won’t be cast again Phir Na Yun Milna Hoga We won’t meet like this again Phir Na Jaane Kya Hoga… Who knows what will happen later Jao Na Don’t go This had the whole village standing up, swaying with the lyrics of the music, dancing with each other. Somehow Mikey felt drawn to Leo at that very moment. It wasn’t the fumes of the bonfire, or the way people were dancing. It was Leo’s own voice, so hypnotic yet soothing. It made the young terrapin sing along with Leo. The way both voices combined, it was like two star cross lovers hoping to come in contact. Mikey was taken aback; Leo was giving him a very airy feeling inside his heart. Leo at the same time, felt like his veins were pumping so much energy, that he was getting drunk off the lyrics of the song. By the time the song ended, Mikey was right next to Leo on the log. While everyone danced, Leo felt something very warm on his hand. Getting wide eyed, he looked down to find Mikey’s petite hand was on his own hand. Then a swirling feeling began in both of their souls, feeling energy clawing at their insides, begging for a way out. Before they could let go of each other’s hands, Mikey’s eyes turned white, making his eyes glow like the sun. A little girl saw what was taking place, and screamed on the top of her lungs. The villagers came into panic, screaming, “Bala! Bala! Cursed one, cursed one!” Bodies pushed each other, getting away from the beach, leaving just Leo and Mikey at the beach. Leo didn’t seem worried, but amused. He couldn’t believe what had just taken place. Mikey was reverting back to normal, feeling his own spirit come back. When he finally awoken, he saw Leo looking at him straight in the eyes. And, the one word that scared Mikey the most came from Leo. “My equal,” Leo looked at Mikey with affection in his eyes. Feeling his knees buckle, Mikey fell to the ground, tears dripping down his cheeks. “Why does this happen to me!” Mikey screamed to the world. His soul felt broken and without repair.

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Link to the song for the story: www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cmd2Un… I dont own the song, belongs to the movie What's your Raashee?

[exhoe-imagines]

lonely game → c.sc

summary → a suspicious private investigator shows up at your door after the mysterious and untimely death of your husband

word count → 1.2k

warnings → film noir!au, 40s!au, crime!au, fem!reader, a lil suggestive, drinking (not by reader), implied murder (not to cheol dw jedskfj) hehe

a/n → yall know when a cheol fic pops up it means im treating my girl @hyunowo !! my bby is celebrating her birthday today, and i’ve always promised her a detective!cheol fic, and it seems the time has finally come :3 enjoy this nasty nineteen bday present babe !! - admin ruby

--

He should have been more cautious of you. That was his job, wasn’t it? To sniff out the lurking criminal hidden away in the shadows -- to solve the mystery even when a whole team of detectives was stumped. But, who was he to know that murder didn’t always possess the look of a monster -- but sometimes, of the most unsuspecting of people?

It was dark when he came to visit, the rain heavy and the streets silent. So scandalous -- an unknown man ringing the doorbell of a married woman at such a time. You were impatient for his arrival, however, and the added atmosphere only heightened your excitement. Even still, you kept your patience for a moment longer, not bothering to descend your staircase until a row of rapid knocks filled the silence. You took one last look in the mirror by the door, fixing a few stray hairs and making sure your neckline dropped a bit lower than would be acceptable for a prestigious dame such as yourself -- the perfect femme fatale. Forbidden, spoken for, but alluring nonetheless.

When the creaky door opened, your dark red lips barely held back a sigh of relief. You hadn’t been expecting such a fine young man, but oh did it make the game that much more interesting. So little experience he must have. This will be easy. You allowed a polite but alluring smile to take over your features -- already coaxing him in before he even knew what hit him.

“Is Mrs. Neff home?” The man asked immediately, eyes dark below his damp felt hat.

You shifted, feigning embarrassment at your attire, as if you were oh so shocked to see such a swoon-worthy man at your door at this time, catching you in your revealing nightwear. Not to say you’d been expecting someone so masculine and overwhelmingly handsome as whoever stood there, but you’d been preparing regardless.

“And who might you be?” you questioned, though you were more than aware.

“Mr. Choi,” he responded quickly, voice steady. “Private investigator.”

Private… This would be much easier indeed.

His steps were hesitant when you invited him in, playing your role as the ever confused housewife who just had no idea what was happening. You let your hips sway as you led Mr. Choi to your living room, offering him a drink with an offhand comment about how you poured one for your husband all the time. He really should have paid more attention to his glass, the poor bastard.

The word husband rolling off your tongue is what caught Mr. Choi’s attention. It’s what he was waiting for. He turned down the alcohol, to your slight dismay, but you just smiled and sat on the couch while he took the chair across from you, posture stiff. You’d relax him soon enough.

“Mrs. Neff, I’m here regarding your husband.”

Jackpot. “Is that so? Is something the matter?” You leaned forward slightly, and almost grinned when Mr. Choi’s gaze dropped as your neckline did, exposing skin even your husband hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing more than a handful of times. You’re a lucky man, Mr. Choi. He cleared his throat, then nodded, asking when you’d last seen him.

“Why, he was out with some business partners.” It wasn’t a total lie, but he’d been done with his meetings long before you… Confronted him.

And oh was it difficult to hide your accomplished smirk when Mr. Choi revealed his body had been found. An accident, he’d called it, though you knew his presence indicated that the police were far more suspicious of foul play than he was letting on.

White fabric soaked up your tears as you patted your rogue colored cheeks with your patterned handkerchief. You were careful not to be too hysterical as you let a few cries rack your chest. The crazy wife look was not the one you wanted to portray, but, you couldn’t look a cold-blooded killer either.

Luckily, your acting paid off. Mr. Choi seemed to soften at your reaction, growing less suspicious as he realized how absolutely devastated you were at the loss of your husband. The investigator had left his hat at the door and you could see his warm brown eyes lose their sharp gaze as he watched you blot your tear-stained cheeks.

You pressed a hand to your chest, feeling the manic beat of your heart. So exhilarating a game was this. “I can’t quite wrap my head around this.” Another sniffle, just to be safe.

“It seems to have been an accident--” perfect, “-- but I fear murder isn’t out of the question.” He was hesitant with his words, like they’d scare you even more than the news itself, but that was the farthest thing from the truth. You so desperately wanted to admit your crimes, if only to feel the rush of accomplishment for having escaped such a dreadful marriage as your own.

Still, you let the names of your husband’s ex-business partners leave your mouth, tongue dripping with a poisonous concoction of lies and half-truths. There would be another corrupt man out there that could take the blame, even if you feel he didn’t deserve the recognition for the murder you had so meticulously planned.

But, it was the easiest thing to do. You knew the detectives would buy into it in no time. Your husband had it coming from a lot of people -- you just happened to be the lucky one to finally finish him off.

Mr. Choi -- or Seungcheol, as he revealed after finally taking a glass of the whiskey you’d offered earlier -- scribbled down some notes between timid sips, ice clanking around in his square cup. You fed him just enough information to send him on a chase, but not enough to hint that you were taking him off your own trail.

And, he didn’t seem to notice. He finished his glass of amber liquor before admitting he should be on his way. You led him to the door, helped him grab his coat and hat, and took one last good look at him before you sent him into the rain. If you weren’t trying to play the loving wife, you almost would have let him stay -- let him comfort you in this time of loss. But then, he’d surely know. He’d see right through your facade. And still, that didn’t seem like the worst thing in the world.

So, you let your hand linger on his shoulder after smoothing his trenchcoat out, and you inwardly gleamed as he visibly shivered at the touch. It seemed he was just as naughty as you.

“Please let me know when you hear anything else, Mr. Choi.”

You leaned against the doorframe, batting your eyelashes that still had droplets of tears clinging to the ends.

“I’ll let you know if I uncover anything else.” He continued to look at you, like you were the thing he wanted to uncover -- that your clothes were just clues hiding the crime of your bare body underneath -- so sinful, so wrong, but so exhilarating.

He disappeared down the street but a moment later, and you knew the smell of your perfume and the sour alcohol clung to his clothes, and you sighed.

Maybe someday he’ll find out that murder doesn’t always smell like blood and anger. Sometimes, it smells like lavender, rich rose, and a hint of vanilla.

[fanfictrashdump]

Uhh for the writing thing maybe some really angsty tensimm like with the master knowing he's broken and not believing he's worth saving and the doctor being like,,,, its ok??? If that makes sense

Firstly, thanks for the request! It gave me a good excuse to brush up on my Simm’s-era DW. I’m not sure if this was what you had in mind (and I apologize if it’s not–my writer’s block is bananas), but it’s pretty angsty, maybe a little hopeful. Secondly, it may not fit in very well to the canon, but I think that’s half the fun of it. I used the fanon versions of their real names because, why not? (Basil, the fake name the Doctor told Osgood, and Koschei) Hope you enjoy!

=

Damn it. Damn it! Damn him. Damn him over and over again until the very last breath of his very last regeneration.

Why did he always do this?

Why was he always so excitedly reckless?

"You can hide in the shadows all you want, Doctor. I've known you all our lives. I know when you're lurking," the Master hissed, though his tone lacked any acidity or true hatred. 

And, how could he hate the Doctor? He was his best friend. His only friend, some would say.

The Doctor had traveled through all of time and space. He had visited every last of his companions, leaving little gifts and reminders of the adventures that would come and the love he held for each and every one of them. After all, never in all his years had he ever met anyone who wasn't important. In the privacy of his TARDIS, he would admit that there was one he valued above all the rest even when he was at constant odds with them. That didn't mean that they ever strayed very far from each other at any point in time. 

Time was the glue that held them together.

He remembered it as if it were yesterday. It could have been yesterday, for all he knew, for all he had traveled. Two little boys–Time Lords, the two of them–, walked the empty fields behind their mentors on their way to the Schism. They held hands, both shaking like leaves from the stories the older children had told them–how some people went mad, how others turned into monsters, how a select few died. 

Who in their right mind thought eight years old's were ready for a glimpse into the very fabric of the known Universe?

Small and straight-haired, the Master–well, he wasn't the Master then–collected all the bravery he had, and peered into the Untempered Schism first, volunteering to make sure it was safe for his friend. "Oh, wow. You've got to see this, Bas." The boy's voice was brimming in awe at watching the Universe unfurl. Everything that was and ever could be swimming past his eyes, ripe for the taking.

The other, blond as the sun and wildly unconvinced, managed to crack his eyes open, and look. For a long while, his mouth hung open, but no sound came out.

"Can you hear that?" Master asked, face furrowing into a frown as he bent to peer closer. Beside him, his friend found his voice, shrieked, turned tail, and ran. 

And he never stopped since.

The Doctor stepped out of the shadows, shedding his trench coat and hanging it over his arm. The brown pinstripe suit looked disheveled, but there wasn't much to do about that when he was about to die. The Master laughed, knocking back a sip of the amber liquid that swirled curiously in a cut crystal glass. It didn't quite look like whiskey, but the Doctor wasn't all that interested in it. Only in the tired expression behind the hazel eyes wearily following him.

"Schism got your tongue, Doctor?"

With a dry chuckle, the Doctor clicked his tongue and sighed. "No. Just wondering how you went from this to that euphoric mania I saw before–after–whatever."

The Master smiled knowingly. "Don't be like that! Tell me, was I brilliant? Did I shine? Did I make a lasting impression on you?"

"Stop it!" The was a snarl to his lips as he stomped closer to the would-be villain of his story.

The sadistic glimmer seemed to fill his countenance at the heated response. "Did you mourn? Did it hurt? Or did you run?"

He tossed the trench coat aside, landing on an extra chair. "I wouldn't have to mourn you if you stopped being such a stubborn old pest!"

The Master chuckled, taking another sip and plopping into an old leather armchair by the fireplace. "I see you still have an aversion to cussing, Bas."

"Koschei." The man in the armchair tensed at the sound of his birthname. It had been eons since he heard it last. "Don't do this. It's just us two left, don't–don't leave me with this whole Universe."

"You left me first!"

"We were eight! I was scared! And then you went off and turned into whatever the hell it is you are now. The Master; the gall of you!" There were tears in his eyes and the regeneration energy flickered as he doubled over to breathe.

In a flash, the Master was on his feet, abandoning his glass on the desk to lead the Doctor to a chair. It was an action out of character for the persona he had created, the cartoon villain he crafted for the world. Chaos and anarchy had always been his cup of tea, though he still held a soft spot for his best friend. "Why are you fighting the regeneration?"

Hair flew into the Doctor’s eyes as his head snapped up, face full of disbelief. "I don't know, why would anyone be that stupid?"

A scoff escaped the Master. "You know I can't do this anymore, Doctor. I was ready to be done with this life when I was fifteen, and I am no less done with it now."

The Doctor caught the front of the Master's crisp white button-up shirt just as he made to leave. "I can help you. I know why you hear the drums. We can figure out how to fix it. Together. Please." If anything in the Universe was true, it was that the Doctor was not afraid to beg.

"And do what? Save the little planet you love so much from every little thing? Go watch the end of the world for the millionth time? Pick flowers on Flora and skip through fields? That won't happen!" He assured, just short of angry. "As soon as they hear my name, they will flee; they will attack. Fixing me won't erase the damage I've inflicted on the world. You're saving a broken record from a fire."

"A broken record can still play."

"It can play the same bit over and over again. The same death and destruction. Is that what you want?"

"You know it's not."

He sighed, bowing his head until it rested on the Doctor's shoulder, blinking away stinging tears as the noise in his head became louder and louder. It seemed to intensify with every ebb of the orange glow that surrounded the Doctor. It was nearly his time, so it was his own, as well. "You should go, Doctor."

"No. Not until you swear to me that you will come back." The Master went to protest, but the Doctor beat him to it. "I don't care if it's out of sight. If it's without me. I don't care if this decision comes back to haunt me a million times. Just don't leave me."

The Master laughed quietly, though tears were making tracks down his cheeks. He ruffled the Doctor's hair, taking in the quiet intensity of those brown eyes that wanted to pin him down in place. "You always did care too much. Running away, but doubling back to make sure I was following." His hand moved down to pat his cheek. "You have to stop worrying about me. You can't save them all, Doctor." He caught a lone tear that managed to escape the Doctor's carefully controlled tear ducts, all the while ignoring the quiet sniffling that betrayed his stoicism. Another wave of energy thrummed and enveloped the other Time Lord in orange. "You have to go. You can't hold on any longer."

"But–"

"I'll think about it. For you, Bas. It's not a promise." He stood, straightening up with hastily wiping at his eyes to compose himself. "Go. Now. Before you ruin the place regenerating."

The Doctor did not have much time to consider whether or not the Master would take his offer. Hurtling towards the earth in a burning TARDIS on the Scottish country tended to do that. In the middle of that field, however, the Master's body clambered out of the burning funeral pyre. He had held on to the energy for as long as he could that even the Doctor thought him dead. The sentimental fool had sent him off to the beyond with all the proper funeral rites, and he had the singe marks to prove it.

“Couldn’t he just have floated me out to sea? Or buried me?” The Master asked, rolling her eyes. As she dusted herself as best she could, she stopped to consider the silence around her. 

The total silence around her. 

The drums were gone. 

"Ugh, he's going to give me the biggest I-told-you-so in existence, isn't he?" The remains of suit covering her body were charred, sooty, and ill-fitting, but they would have to do. She had a Universe to go see and an idiot of a best friend to go find. 

[umberoff]

[taps mic] a... anyone still there

so hey, what’s up, i kinda disappeared for a bit. latter half of 2019 was kinda uhhh, not great (doing better now, dw). i mostly lurk on twitter now, but honestly tumblr has become a lot more appealing now that it’s gotten much smaller? so eyy i’ll probably be hanging around and posting art and other things again

[astrodances]

Faith Is Found In the Winds

Finished Darkwing Duck for the first time last week, so...consider this a celebration of that fact. And by “celebration,” I mean, I got a sad headcanon for the aftermath of “Darkly Dawns the Duck” and I’m bringing you all down with me.

************************************

Their first official day together as a family had already filled Drake with enough glowing memories to practically heal his injuries, he felt.

After signing the adoption papers, he, Gosalyn, and Launchpad had driven through St. Canard’s suburbs in search of a new house for the three of them, during which Gosalyn and Launchpad learned that they shared a mutual love of crooning to the car radio, much to Drake’s reluctant amusement. Drake, for his part, pointed out the various hideouts of the local crime scene when they passed them, and all three swapped stories about their lives before the Taurus Bulba fiasco. Before finding each other.

It already felt so natural, so right, to be in each other’s lives.

Of course, that didn’t mean that they didn’t still have a lot to learn about each other.

As late afternoon took a hold of the sky and Launchpad started to drive their new station wagon away from Hamburger Hippo, where they’d gotten an early dinner to go, Gosalyn piped up from the backseat. “Can we stop by the cemetery on the way home?”

If her request hadn’t been so disarming, Drake would’ve smiled at her calling Darkwing Tower “home.” Until they could make an offer on a real one, his hideout was all they had. But instead he sputtered around a mouthful of fries, “The cemetery—! Gosalyn, honey, I...why?”

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” she answered.

A shiver ran down his spine. When he called her “spirited” before, he hadn’t expected the term to be so literal. “Well, that’s not ominous in the least...”

“Y-Yeah, couldn’t it wait until tomorrow? Or until Drake can drive again? You know, when I’m not here?” Launchpad cut in. He already looked like he’d seen a ghost by the way he had the steering wheel in a death grip.

Still, she insisted. “Please? It’s important.”

One look over his shoulder was enough to convince Drake. Gosalyn didn’t look like she was trying to trick them. Gone was the boisterous, carefree attitude that had filled the car with squeaky singing earlier; rather, a somber little girl with pleading eyes stared back at him, searching for his trust, and he had the sinking feeling he knew who she wanted him to meet.

“Launchpad...go to the cemetery.”

“Aw, man!”

—————

After a quick stop at a corner flower stand to pick up a bouquet of gladioli, the trio arrived at the cemetery. Launchpad parked on the curb right outside the gate, and after giving Drake a chance to get situated with his crutch, they walked in together.

An orange glow crept over the cemetery as the sun began its descent towards the horizon, giving the rows of graves an otherworldly aura. A slight breeze made Drake wish he was in his Darkwing outfit, not only for the added warmth of the cape and thicker jacket, but to fend off the nagging sense of death lurking behind him.

While Launchpad wasn’t faring much better, Gosalyn took in her surroundings in stride. She kept her chin held high as she marched a step ahead and lead the way down a path of engraved headstones and freshly-cut grass with flowers in hand. The image filled Drake with guilt and a desire for vengeance; his daughter shouldn’t have been this familiar with a graveyard. As grateful as he was to have her in his life now, she was too young to know death this well. Too precious to have that innocence of mortality marred, and if Drake could, he would have gladly fixed things to take that knowledge away from her.

“We’re here,” Gosalyn announced.

“Let’s not stay ‘here’ more than we need to, huh?” Launchpad rambled out as he checked his personal blind spots for any ghoulish threats. “I-I say we leave before it gets dark. Or if anything besides us shows up.”

Drake shushed him with a nudge from his good elbow, then took a half-step closer to read the tombstone before them and confirm what he’d already suspected in the car: this was Professor Waddlemeyer’s grave.

As quiet as ever, Gosalyn crept forward and laid the gladioli at the base of the marker, taking the time to make sure they were adequately arranged and shielded from the wind as much as possible. When she stood back to admire her work, she instinctively reached for Drake’s hand, and he obliged her after handing his crutch off to Launchpad. It was only then that he realized she was trembling.

Before he could do anything about it, Gosalyn gave his hand a gentle tug to have him shuffle forward a few steps with her. “Grandpa, this is Drake,” she presented, her voice surprisingly calm. “He’s gonna be my new dad and take care of me, right?” She looked up at him with green eyes full of hope and want.

Drake choked up as tears pricked the corners of his vision. He hadn’t expected Gosalyn to want to come to the cemetery to do this; at most he thought “meeting someone” would’ve just entailed paying their respects with the flowers.

Despite feeling caught off-guard, he nodded and cleared his throat. “Right. I...” he faltered as a delayed sense of responsibility slid onto his shoulders. “Right. I promise.” He pulled Gosalyn close to his side in a one-armed hug that she returned, which seemed to calm her nerves.

They all stood there for a moment longer as the breeze whistled past them. All the words of comfort that failed Drake’s beak, he squeezed into her shoulders, and that seemed to spur her on.

“Y’know, Grandpa used to tell me that if something ever happened to him, he would send the brightest star in the night sky to watch over me, and a rainbow to reach it so I could talk to him.”

If his heart wasn’t already shattered at his feet before, it sure was now. He needed to say something, lest he start crying. “Gosalyn, sweetie, I don’t think he needs to send you a rainbow so you can talk to him.”

“He doesn’t?”

“Nah. It’s like he sang to you: you’ve got a rainbow right inside of you.” Drake punctuated his point by poking her shoulder with his finger. “You are a rainbow. My little rainbow, now.”

Gosalyn buried her face into his side, and this time, he was positive he heard her sniffling. He soothed a hand down her back and planted a kiss on her forehead, and figured it was best time that they headed home. Only, now that he was here, there was one more thing he wanted to do.

Drake kept an eye on the grave as he leaned back to whisper, “Launchpad, will you take Gos back to the car, please?” When he didn’t get an answer, he turned to find Launchpad downright blubbering over their exchange. “Whoa, you okay, buddy?”

“Just fine, DW.” Launchpad blew into a bandana he must’ve kept in his pocket. “Just some allergies...probably from the grass. Sorry. Yeah, I’ll take her back.”

Drake gave him a sympathetic smile before looking down to answer Gosalyn’s questioning stare. “I’ll just be a second.”

“M’kay.” She gave him one last hug before walking over to place a hand on Waddlemeyer’s tombstone, looking back at Drake as she murmured, “Thanks, Grandpa.”

After giving him back his crutch, Launchpad took Gosalyn by the hand and together they walked back to the gate, leaving Drake with glassy eyes and silence. He thought about what he was going to say as he waited for them to be out of earshot, the sky growing dim above.

“She’s a brave one, that kid...” he began once he was completely alone, his gaze transfixed on the tiny indents he was making in the grass with his crutch. “After everything she’s lost, she still refuses to lose her spirit.” He chuckled softly. If it came down to the end of the world versus Gosalyn’s spunk, he’d put his money on her without a second thought.

The petals of the gladioli rustled in kind, and Drake sighed, growing serious and turning his stare back to the grave.

“Mr. Waddlemeyer...er, sir...I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’ll do everything in my power to watch over Gosalyn, just as I know you are. But...” he swallowed thickly. What he was about to ask was so selfish, he knew, but something in the back of his mind needed to get this off his chest. A sort of hero’s prayer he needed to offer to the heavens. To that star shining down on St. Canard.

“I know I live a dangerous life, so...please, keep me safe, for Gosalyn’s sake. Keep me safe, so I can keep her safe and protect her for you. Please...”

It was all he had to live for now, keeping Gosalyn out of harm’s way so she could light up the world. He didn’t want to fail her, or her grandfather.

The wind picked up once again. Despite the way his daughter had so carefully arranged the bouquet, a petal broke free from the gladioli and flew towards Drake, landing squarely on his chest. He’d never been one to give much thought to them before, but Drake decided to take it as a sign.

“Thank you,” he whispered up to the sky.

The last bit of sunset caught the renewed glint of purpose in Drake’s eye as he made his way back to the car and his new family. Night was ready to dawn, and with it, a new life for them all.

[defilerwyrm]

old follower from lj anon here: sorry for having brought up a sore subject. for what it’s worth you seem like a hella cool person and I’m enjoying your content. It’s a damn shame i happened to follow you just before the Tumblr Prohibition era. do you think you’ll be lurking around here once staff has issued all of us our sfw chastity belts?

Not so much sore as just frustrating—by no fault of yours. It’s a tense, frustrating time and would be even without Tumblr shooting itself in its own stupid face. Like many others I’m bitter about being shadowbanned and forced off a platform I’ve made my home for the last seven years (Verizon is deplatforming illustrators and leaving Nazis be, AWESOME >:/). It’s going to take a lot of doing to rebuild an audience the likes of which I have here, especially with the way everyone is scattering like quail.

I’ll probably continue lurking for a while. I have a lot of text to port over to DW, PFio, and AO3 still. How it shook out when I moved here from LJ was I kinda gradually used this place more & more and LJ less & less, so it might be the same this time—especially as I continue to search for the people I’ve been following on other platforms.

That is, if they don’t delete my account. If my account gets deleted, please know that I did not do that myself.

[rj-selfship]

Introduction

Hey, I'm RJ. 22 years old, asexual biromantic, female/genderqueer, new to participating in the self-shipping community.

I've been kinda lurking around this part of Tumblr for the past 3 years, and I made this blog back then (late 2017) as well, but I've only just gotten up the nerve to even try doing something with it.

Of course, I've been self-shipping for a lot longer then that, probably upwards of 10 years with various characters (maybe even 15yrs or so, idek). I might discuss some of that on a later date, but this is just an intro for my current shipping situation.

Rather unlike a decent amount of the community that I've seen, I only have two romantic F/Os, with a couple platonic/familial ones as well. F/O#2 is a very recent addition, the thought at first being something like "maybe I could polyship?" but now he's here to stay and I have two fictional bfs/husbands.

I'm not sure what all content I'll be putting up here. I probably won't be too active either, since I'm in college - school will take priority over most anything else internet... also, I'm just a really private person in general, and really shy about this kind of thing.

So... yeah. This is just the first post, I still have to set up more stuff and get decent pictures for my profile pic and header (current header is just temporary). I'll work on that in what free time I have. I suppose I'll make an F/O list, though it'll be pretty short, and some ask lists may be reblogged so people can ask me things about my ship. Asking questions is off for rn, will open that up after my next post - the info post.

List of things to come in the next post: F/O list, types of content, DNI list (ig - those seem common, but I doubt I'll get much interaction from anyone in the first place), some other little thingies

~RJ

(P.S. if posts sometimes come between 2-5am (Central US time), I have ADHD and insomnia problems lol dw abt me, just RJ unable to sleeep)

[idleleaves]

Challenge #1: In your own space, introduce yourself! Challenge #2: In your own space, talk about your fannish history.

So - I'm Anna. I've been around fandom for about 2.5 decades and I don't intend to go anywhere anytime soon. No matter where you look for me - here on DW, on Tumblr, on Twitter, on Discord, on AO3, on the SWG - I'm always IdleLeaves. Hooray, consistency! Or maybe I'm just really terrible at coming up with usernames.

I started out in fandom lurking on alt.startrek.creative in the 90s; in the late 90s I got sucked into X-Files fandom and spent a truly astounding amount of hours reading at the Gossamer Archive. My first foray into fannish writing was terrible Final Fantasy VIII fic that I fortunately never posted. After that, I fell into a fandom I'd rather not mention anymore, and started actually posting fic to a mailing list in 2001. I don't necessarily write consistently - I'll go months without producing anything then write 10 ficlets in a month - but I'm always fannish, and always ready for the next idea.

My primary fandoms at the moment are Stand Still Stay Silent, Good Omens, and Tolkien. They're all long-term loves of mine and are unlikely to ever disappear from my radar entirely. I also dabble in the MCU, all flavours of Star Trek, Yuri!!! On Ice, and others, too, depending on whims.

I am absolutely someone who prefers to pay attention to what she likes and ignore the things she doesn't. I believe in don't-like-don't-read, kinktomato, and curating your own online fannish experience.

Offline, I'm a Canadian sewist, dancer, and photographer with a small herd o' cats. The cats have their own Instagram. I live alone with said cats, some plants, and far too much fabric and yarn. I post headless photos of the things I sew because I can't quite get around the aversion to having my face in a fandom space.

Challenge #3 - Promote Your Favourite Communities, Fests, or Challenges

I'm not someone who tends to be part of a million fannish communities, but the ones I do love, I love like burning.

First, there's Still SynS, a flashfic-and-chat based community I started almost three years ago that used to be called Synchronised Screaming. It's less about the flashfic than it used to be, but it's still a wonderful place with wonderful people who enjoy screaming about fic-writing and other assorted things. I heart everyone on its Discord server so much. The best part is that while we do have a scheduled Saturday chat, anyone who's available tends to gather if someone flings up an "I'm around" note on their Tumblr.

Second, there's Ineffable Kink, a Discord server that was made for the Good Omens Kink Meme and has turned into a supportive community of excellent people. It's an easy server to sink into and get comfortable - even to the point of sharing works-in-progress, which is something I've never had the guts to do before save with a couple of very specific people. There's a looot of Good Omens talk, naturally, but also a few channels for other things.

As far as challenges/exchanges, there's always the 'slashy' swaps - My Slashy Valentine, Ardour in August, Sultry in September, etc. MSV was one of the first exchanges I ever did, and almost all of them have been excellent experiences in the end. They're hard exchanges in some ways - you never really know what you'll get assigned and it's hand-matching without people being able to choose what to offer (although you can specify some things you like to write and things you can't write), but I've never gotten an assignment I didn't like.