#had to copy/paste this paragraph by paragraph to keep it from fucking up

[direwombat]

“Stop fucking teasing me and get to it already.” + Augustine & Joseph 🙈

edited the line slightly to make it just a bit more in character, but here's the filth!

tags/warnings: power imbalances, daddy/father kink, bit of a religious kink, oral sex, coming untouched, look it’s a cult-member having sex with a cult leader, and joe has a bit of a god complex. nothing here is healthy. enjoy! :)

a mouth full of praise | explicit | 2.4k | on ao3

For some reason, the Father likes keeping Augustine nearby. At first, he thought it strange. Surely there are far many other members of the Project more worthy of his company. Not that Augustine had minded, of course, taking any opportunity he could to ask if there had been any news of his sister, the Junior Deputy. But as time wore on and the answer kept being a resounding “No,” he stops asking. Sybille must be dead, he assumes, and with no other family, he throws himself into serving the Project that took him in as if he was always one of their own.

Then, he comes to regard the Father’s company as an honor. He chose Augustine, and while he may not understand why, he accepts his blessings where he can. And when his leg finally heals from the injury he sustained up in the Whitetails, the Father asks him to take up a rifle and accompany him away from the compound and into other parts of the county. 

He’s proud to serve the Father in such a way. Blessed to hold his trust so close. 

And then the dreams start. Dreams that leave him breathless, sweating, and needing to sneak away to do his laundry in private. He can’t let the others know of his shame. Of his sin. He’s already endured the Atonement once and has zero wishes to go through it again. But the images…the desires are burned into his memory, and every time he closes his eyes, he sees himself engaging in acts of Holy hedonism.

He sees himself on his knees, pious and supplicant to the Father most Holy. He tastes the Father’s flesh, sweet and salty on his tongue, and not at all like the communion wafers he grew up on. The body of his Lord and Savior is something solid and warm, and he longs to know how he really tastes.

The thought alone makes him flush whenever the Father is near him, and short of shirking his duties, he does all he can to avoid him. His sin is his own burden to bear. 

He busies himself with a broom, sweeping the church after morning service. He collects the dirt into neat little piles, making sure to reach under each pew. The Father has been working so hard recently, he deserves to return to a clean church when he finishes his rest in his office. They’ve been losing so many people recently. Augustine doesn’t know much about what’s happening outside the compound, but from what he gathers, someone hateful and violent has inspired rabid hatred against the Father.

It makes his heart ache. Who could hate such a kind and reverent man?

He brushes his little dirt piles into the dustpan and discards them out the window he had opened to air out the building. The air may be getting crisper as the season changes, but get enough bodies packed into a tight space, and it inevitably smells like sweat and musk. His Lord the Father deserves fresh, clean air to help clear his head.

Tapping the dustpan against the windowsill, he knocks the last of the dirt and grime loose, and as he moves to return the broom to its closet, he finds the Father standing in the door frame leaning to his office. He stands with his arms crossed, his shoulder resting on the door jamb.

“Father,” Augustine startles. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t notice you. Is there something you need? Water? A meal?”

The Father cocks his head to the side, brows pinching together. “Are you in such a hurry to rid yourself of my presence, Augustine?”

Augustine’s heart gallops in his chest. His palms go sweaty and his grip around the neck of the broom tightens and starts trembling. Strangely enough, it isn’t the idea that the Father may know of his sin that frightens him, but rather the notion that he’s disappointed that Augustine does not trust in him enough to confess it. “No, of course not! I just —”

But then the Father lifts his hand, cutting Augustine off, and he smiles. It’s so soft, so beautiful and ethereal, that Augustine can’t help but be enraptured by it. “I joke,” the Father says, and the yawning pit in Augustine’s gut closes. But only slightly.

The Father removes his glasses, gently folding the arms and hooking them into the breast pocket of his vest. Those beautiful blue eyes of his pin Augustine in place as he studies him. Like a knife made of ice, he cuts through to Augustine’s soul, peeling away his flesh and bones until his soul is bared, along with all the secrets he keeps closely guarded. “Something has been weighing heavy on your mind these past few days, Augustine. What troubles you?”

“Oh, um,” he stammers. “It’s..It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with, Father.” But the words feel bitter falling off his tongue. Who is he to say what the Father should and shouldn’t be concerned with?

The Father frowns, but it isn’t one of anger, and he waves Augustine towards him. The broom drops to the ground with a clatter and he follows him as he disappears back into his office. Once Augustine enters, the Father shuts the door behind them, and he motions for him to sit as he takes a seat at his own desk. Augustine perches himself on the only other surface available, resting nervously on the edge of the cot tucked in the corner.

“You think that with such a large flock, I wouldn’t notice you acting strangely,” the Father says, leaning forward, not crowding, but close enough that Augustine can smell the Bliss tea on his breath and it makes him feel a little lightheaded. “But I do notice, and I worry. Have I done something to offend you, Augustine?”

Augustine’s eyes go wide. “No! No, not at all.”

“Then why have you been avoiding me?” he asks, and it’s so gentle and so pained that guilt gnaws like a swarm of rats in Augustine’s gut. He’s hurt him. He doesn’t understand why Augustine wouldn’t trust him to tell him what plagues his every waking thought. “What is on your mind, my child. I can’t help you if I don’t know what the problem is.”

Augustine’s fingers dig into the coarse denim of his jeans and he draws his lower lip between his teeth. The Devil whispering in the back of his mind tells him to lie. To fabricate some concern about his sister. But somehow, he thinks the Father would see through that. No, it’s better to confess. It will be painful, but then again, as he learned from John, confession is meaningless without pain. He swallows thickly and, averting his gaze to stare at the Father’s boots rather than his face, he says, “I want to worship you, Father. I want to worship you in ways that are almost certainly sinful and unholy.”

“By its nature, the act of worship cannot be unholy,” the Father says gently. “Unless, of course, the object of worship itself is. Do you consider me unholy, Augustine?”

This gets Augustine’s head to snap back up, his eyes wide. “No. Never. Of course not!” Augustine exclaims. He’d never meant to imply such a thing!

The Father hums and nods thoughtfully. “And is your desire to worship motivated by sin?”

Augustine pauses, his brows pinching together. “No,” he says slowly. He never touched himself thinking back on these dreams. The thought to do so never even occurred to him. It was always about giving to the Father, not taking his own pleasure. And then it dawns on him, and for the first time in nearly a week, he looks the Father in the eye. “Reverence,” he breathes.

The smile the Father gives him is just as warm as the hands that come to cradle his face. Butterflies flutter in his stomach. “Then there is nothing sinful or unholy about your desires to worship.”

Augustine sighs a breath of relief, the tension he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying in his shoulders finally lifting. His eyes fall shut and he leans into the Father’s comforting touch. “Thank you,” he says. “Thank you, Father.”

And then the Father pulls away, and the warmth of his touch fades. When Augustine opens his eyes, he sees the Father sitting in front of him, but something about his demeanor has changed. His legs are spread in a way that tempts Augustine’s lust, and he looks unto him with a peculiar hunger in his eyes. One of his hands curls loosely, fingers beckoning Augustine towards him. “Come closer.”

Augustine is powerless to resist. He falls from where he sits on the cot straight to his knees and crawls towards him. He settles between the Father’s legs, but he doesn’t dare touch him. Not without permission. So, he places his hands in his own lap, locking his fingers together as if in prayer and firmly squeezing them between his own thighs so that they may not act sinfully of their own accord. That beckoning hand comes to rest atop Augustine’s head, fingers threading through his long auburn locks.

“Show me,” the Father murmurs, quiet but no less of a command. “Show me how you wish to worship me.”

Augustine’s lips part, his mouth going dry. His gaze darts from the face of the Father, to the space between his legs, and back again. He licks his lips, feeling the way the flush crawls up his neck and burning his ears and cheeks. His fingers twitch, as he’s overwhelmed by lust. “Father, I…”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, my child,” the Father says. “Go on.”

The words are enough to get Augustine moving. Tentatively, his hands rise up to touch the Father’s thighs, rubbing in a way that’s more exploratory than anything else. They then slide up towards his belt, gingerly unbuckling it and pulling the leather from his hips. Encouraged by a Holy sigh from above, Augustine pops the button to his pants and pulls down the zipper of his fly. The Father graciously lifts his hips to help him drag down both his pants and underwear, allowing his cock to spring free.

It’s semi-erect, and Augustine’s mouth waters at the sight, blessed to be the object of the Father’s arousal, and eager to see him in all his Glory. He licks his lips and leans in, mouthing wetly along its length. He breathes in the musk and sweat, and as he drags his tongue up and takes the head into his mouth, it tastes ever so faintly of Bliss oil. His head swims, eyes fluttering shut, and he moans quietly. His tongue laps lazily, savoring the Father’s Holy Seed.

The Father’s grip tightens almost painfully in Augustine’s hair. “Enough teasing, my child. Get to it already,” he hisses, his voice hoarse and rough.

Augustine pulls off just long enough to breathe out an apology. “Yes, Father. I’m sorry.”

“You needn’t apologize, child, just —” he tapers off in a shuddering moan as Augustine takes him in his mouth.

It’s only part way. Augustine has never taken another man’s cock in his mouth before, and the intrusion, while not unwelcome, is more than he anticipated. The Father is warm and heavy against his tongue, and he fills his mouth in a way that sends Hellfire coursing through his veins. 

“That’s it,” the Father breathes, and he slowly forces Augustine’s head further down his shaft. “Just relax.”

Tears prick at Augustine’s eyes as he sputters and chokes, but the Father groans above him, so he must be doing something right. He feels the Father’s thighs tense beneath his hands as his own throat struggles and constricts around the uncomfortable size being forced down it. “Hush,” the Father shushes as he guides Augustine’s head down until his nose is pressed against his pubic bone. “Relax your throat. That’s it. Good boy.”

It’s a struggle, but the combined taste of Bliss and his own willpower, Augustine manages to relax his throat. When he does, the Father’s grip in his hair relaxes, allowing him to lift up, but never off. His lips remain wrapped around his cock, drool pooling in his mouth and leaking out the sides, wet and obscene. The Father’s hand is a warm weight against his skull, almost cradling, as he begins to bob his head. His tongue works the underside of the Father’s cock, and he slides down to the base, and comes to swirl at the head as he rises.

Just as soon as he finds a comfortable rhythm, the Father’s grip in his hair tightens again, guiding him faster, as he bucks into Augustine’s mouth. “That’s it, my child, worship me,” he moans. “Give praise with your mouth and tongue so it may be filled with Glory.”

Augustine moans around him, his eyes fluttering shut at the sheer power in the Father’s voice, and as he does, the Father’s hips stutter. He forces Augustine’s head down one last time, holding him as  his Glory spills down his throat, giving him no choice but to swallow. 

With a final shudder, the Father’s fingers slip from his hair and he goes limp in his seat. Augustine pulls off his softening cock and leans his head against one of his thighs, dizzy and breathless, and with his throat sore and aching. The Father’s fingers dance over his face, gifting him with light caresses, and when the Father opens his eyes, he drinks in the sight of Augustine on his knees before him like wine. 

His gaze then travels down to the space between Augustine’s legs and he clicks his tongue. “Look at you, my child,” he says, running a thumb over Augustine’s cum stained lip. “So pious. Moved to ecstasy through worship.”

Augustine whimpers, his brow furrowing in confusion, but then he looks down only to realize that he’s soiled his jeans as if he were a teenager. He looks back to the Father with dumb, glassy eyes, but says nothing.

Giving one last soft caress to his cheek, the Father smiles at him. “Go get cleaned up,” he says.

“Yes, Father,” Augustine answers, and when he speaks, his voice is hollow and ruined. With the legs of a newborn fawn, he stands and stumbles towards the church’s small washroom. His pants chafe uncomfortably as he moves.

He’s halfway out the door to the office when the Father calls to him once again. “Oh, and Augustine? Should you ever wish to worship like that again, do let me know.”

Augustine blinks slowly as the words wash over him. Then, he smiles. “Yes, Father,” he nods. “I most certainly will.”

[the-elder-polls]

salem pls pls pls go on the rant about Neverar's death I NEED it

oh how thou enable mine soul. i apologize in advance because i am scatter brained and bad at formulating my thoughts (doesn't help that this topic is so weird) but here we go.

OKAY. so. i'm gonna start with foundations that i'll reference throughout this. starting with seht, specifically, seht's eso dialogue. i will link the uesp page HERE (ref point 1) to keep from having to copy-paste big swaths of text. i'll also link ayem (ref point 2) and vehk's (ref point 3), PLUS ayem (ref point 4) and vehk's (ref point 5) morrowind pages. if anyone wants me to snip the exact dialogue i'm referencing, please just lemme know.

SO. some main principles i want to draw from all of those are:

seht is upset about but accepts his place as a npc. he knows he is a npc, he knows he cannot change this, he just seeks to try to affect what he can. (ref point 1)

vehk knows he is a NPC and wants to be the Prisoner, aka the player character, because the Prisoner can be anyone, whereas he can only be vehk. (ref point 1)

almalexia seems to share the same knowledge as the other two, but denies it in favor of attempting to create her own narrative. (ref point 1, 4, and 5)

next, we'll talk about our beloved lorkahn, freak extraordinaire, god of mortals, spirit of nirn. his uesp page will be ref point 6.

obviously, lorkhan's heart is tied to nerevar's fate. it's tied to SO many fates--the tribunal, the nerevarine, dagoth ur, nerevar, the dwemer, etc which is rather fitting for the god of mortals i think. (i also won't go into my ramble about nerevar's parallels with lorkhan because that's a whole other ordeal)

vehk claims that nerevar and dumac fought and fell from the wounds inflicted upon each other. simultaneously, vehk straight up admits to killing nerevar (ref point 5), then just as easily says no, they didn't, actually (ref point 5) and says that that's just a lie spread by alandro sul. vehk is an infamously unreliable source. he lies as easy as he breathes, if not easier.

the battle of red mountain is an entire fucking thing. i really cannot even try to explain what happened during it because of the conflicting sources (see: the previous paragraph where vehk vehks ominously) but we DO at the very least know that the heart was struck, the dwemer disappeared, and nerevar died. whether or not he died DURING the battle or AFTER isn't entirely clear; again, conflicting sources.

aaaaaaaand then, there's dagoth ur. he loves nerevar, he hates nerevar. nerevar betrayed him, he betrayed nerevar. again. conflicting fucking sources. yet another "entire fucking thing" that i can't really go into detail on because i would derail myself so fast.

whatever happened at the battle of red mountain, at least two things are certain: nerevar died and the dwemer disappeared. we genuinely do not know what happened. is it likely the tribunal killed nerevar? yes, it's incredibly likely. but we do not have a 110% concrete answer of "yes, the tribunal absolutely killed nerevar" because even the tribunal don't seem to genuinely know. i think it's part of what is driving them out of their minds. even they don't know. because, like seht mentions/implies, they are bound to the will of the writers and the writers have not given any concrete answers.

i am personally a fan of the idea that it was a dragon break kind of situation, where all realities are simultaneously true and false, because it just feels the most...right, to me.

i had to significantly trim this because oh my god i rambled so much but. tldr we don't know and probably never will. also please nobody yell at me it's 4 am here and i'm just doing this

[friedchickenlover01]

SFW: Yandere Alucard Hellsing x Tomie Reader

Warnings - Yandere themes, tomie, murder, harm, swearing, locking reader up, mention of hooking up and basically one night stand.

Authors note - I wrote this on the opinion that Tomie’s beauty only affects men as that’s how it is portrayed and shown on Junji Ito’s books, gn reader.

- He has been watching you for so long, and yet you still surprise him!

- Alucard stalks his darling and with his power to quickly move through the shadows and along with the ability to change into whatever shape he desires, its as easy as a slice of cake for him. It would be rare for you to realise he’s watching you even if you are not human. So he could easily find out everything about you.

- Honestly, for a sec, before he knew your powers, he would just see you as a really physically attractive person. He would find it something strange about you that he just can’t put his finger on, but other then that, if you were a person who were just walking past him, he wouldn’t care about you that much. He might find your egotistical personality intriguing but thats it.

- Anyways, for him to realise your power, theres three ways for it to happen:

- First is that you straight up told him your powers. Now i imagine that Alucard will be confused and not believe you, he would honestly brush it off. This path needs to happen in his early obsession stages where his love is somewhat normal, when he would allow you to walk around the Hellsing mansion as well as outside at nighttime with him, keeping an eye on you at all times. It could happen where a stranger or a soldier passing by became obsessed and harmed you by whether just cutting you up or shooting you. Now Alucard has extraordinary senses, he can easily hear your heart beat with keeping track of your every breath, the moment you get attacked, he’s right there, cradling you in his arms, the attacker already being filled with bullets in their body. He would be rushing to the nearest hospital, yelling at the doctors to save you, and he’s taken by surprise when you suddenly regenerate, however, not only that, you continue to regenerate into seperate multiple copies of you.

- The second one is that he attacked you himself, this way of happening is really rare as i imagine someone like Tomie will not associate with his profession nor go to the places he goes for his mission. Nevertheless, due to this hc, we will go with the path that he attacked you accidentally. Now what situation and relationship you have that moment is important along with the severity of the injuries. Because if you two were in a relationship or he was already a yandere, Alucard’s reaction in the first choice at the end when you got attacked will be the same. And depending how serious the injuries are, if you “died” from the injuries ( aka your heart basically stopped ) he would either mourn your death and try to make you into a vampire or if you were just a person Alucard killed at a mission, he would literally say “ what a shame, they looked hot as fuck “. Even so, both end with him being surprised and intrigued at your powers.

- Finally, the way is that you got attacked by a vampire he was supposed to kill. This is really similar to the second way of Alucard accidentally killing / harming you. Because it literally is. He would have the same reaction as to the last four lines of the above paragraph. I mean, what can you expect, this dead monster probably killed millions if not billions of people and consumes blood along with killing literally anyone as a type of hobby. One more stranger wouldn’t matter much to him.

- Nonetheless, to the relationship part!

- Since Tomie hates being photographed due to how she ends up looking like, i imagine you too. Now, even so, Alucard doesn’t bother with pictures, he just never had the reason to, also i don’t think he ends up appearing on photos anyways because of the fact he’s a vampire, ( sorry i actually don’t know ). So when he finds that you hate being in photos, he wouldn’t mind it at all, instead, he would help to get out of photographs. Even if that means shoving the camera, moving you out of the range, or covering you with his giant body or clothes.

- With the mention of your appearances, Alucard is not someone who will fall for someone for their looks, he might try to hook up with you but he won’t be a complete yandere or in love due to your appearance as he has cultivated centuries training his powers and gaining strength until he’s literally the strongest. But even though your powers may not work on him completely, it might help in developing his obsession and make it a bit more faster to develop.

- Now due to your powers and the influence of what it has to people around you, Alucard as a lover and a yandere will definitely see this as a reason to lock you up and be more overprotective. He is already possessive and overprotective by nature and being a yandere is just amplifying it more.

- He actually doesn’t have a problem as to what you do other people, heaven knows what worse things he have done in the centuries he lived. The risk of your safety is the problem for him, if you were that desperate to stay youthful, he would only allow the smallest cut on your fingers. You either have to take it or grow old.

- He will also be really curious about this power of yours, he often doesn’t get the chance to meet other supernaturals so he will ask you quite a lot of questions, ranging from who does it affect, why does it happen, etc.

- More on over, unlike a yandere Alucard with a normal darling, he will only allow Sir Integral and Seras to be with you. Along with only maids so no one is affected by your beauty. Even so, he will be strict about maids looking at you, with especially your face. Other than them, he will allow no one to be with you to even Walter is not allowed, this is because of the fact Walter is too much of an asset to be carelessly thrown away, (,although it isnt to say if it cones down to it, walter would swiftly be sent to the underworld ). So Alucard would rather be safe than sorry and not risk too much of not only your safety but Walter’s as well.

[edengarden]

Manhandling

Synopsis: Caesar pushes you a little too far. You (have no choice but to) retaliate.

Pairing: Caesar x gn!reader

Warnings:  profanity, (sensitive) horn grabbing, Caesar gets a lil too hot and bothered, reader has grabbable hair, reader’s kinda mean to him (please treat the meow meow with care). Caesar says “ma’am” once. Sadomasochism.

WARNING: THIS IS HIGHLY SUGGESTIVE. Read at your own risk.

Notes: I was chatting with @lairu while she was drawing Caesar’s 100% expression for the blushing meme, and this is what came of it! Enjoy!

The copy-pasting process from google docs was a little messy so please notify me if the paragraphs aren’t showing in the right order!

You’d like to say that you had developed a certain sort of tolerance for Caesar’s antics. You’d like to say that you’ve gotten used to it, that you know how the story goes. That you can handle it and find ways to avoid his eccentricity. The truth is, Caesar seems to find some twisted pleasure in catching you off-guard and annoying the ever loving shit out of you. Which you had at some point wished you could reciprocate; you were more than ready to stoop down to his level. However, any attention seems to be good attention for Caesar. And while you were prepared to get on his nerves, you weren’t ready to give him what he was so obstinately begging for at the moment. 

Which is how you ended up here. About to reach your damn limit with him while he pressed all the right buttons to piss you off. You had given up on taking deep, calming sighs a while back. 

Caesar slapped your work right out of your hands as if he were swatting away a pesky fly. “You know what you have to do,” he insisted, leaning over your shoulder, taunting you. There was no way in hell you’d actually entertain him and his constant need for attention. Because once you started, there was no stopping. You’d be stuck with his annoying ass until he deemed it was time for him to go. Which usually takes a long fucking time to occur. And there’s no shaking off once you participate in his games. So, you did the next best thing. 

Silently, you got up to your feet, brushed yourself off, and walked right around him. If you walked far enough, maybe you could leave the room and get to another one. A lockable one. However, Caesar had other plans. While you expected him to object to your taking off, you hadn’t planned for him to grab the hair from the back of your head to keep you right where you were. 

Your reaction was instantaneous. You weren’t going to sit around and let some attention-starved man drag you around by the hair as if your job was to entertain him. It was all too embarrassing to let him do something like that to you. So, with a quick hand, you grabbed his wrist and squeezed it hard enough for him to let go of your hair. You turned on your heels and, focused on giving him a taste of his own medicine, your hand that wasn’t currently letting go of his wrist reached up to grab at the base of his horn. You sneered at him as you pushed him backwards until his back crashed against the wall. Caesar let out a pathetic yelp as you kept him trapped  between you and the wall, his shoulders tensing and his head tilting, trying to ease the pressure you put on his horn.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, you ruffian?!” He cried out, as if he weren’t in one great, big self-dug grave. You couldn’t even take him seriously; not with the way your grip on his horn was obviously affecting him. Flushed, tense, nearly hyperventilating, dilated pupils and upturned eyebrows. The touch, as well as the sudden domineering attitude you put forth was doing things to him and maybe you’d have taken notice of it if you weren’t as pissed off as you currently were. Still, he somehow found the audacity to speak as if he hadn’t brought this upon himself. 

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are,” you practically spat at him, pulling on his horn. Caesar let out a pathetic whimper when his head was forced back a little. Had you been in your right mind, maybe you’d have felt a little bad for him. Or maybe you’d have noticed that he had melted into your touch a little, as if he were enjoying the brutal way you were handling him at the moment. “But you do not get to fucking manhandle me around as if I’m merely here for your entertainment. Am I clear?” 

Caesar’s chest was heaving up and down as his breathing had yet to calm down a little. He wasn’t in the right mindset to fully understand what you were saying, but you weren’t in the right mindset to comprehend that. So, instead, you gave another harsh tug on his horn. His knees buckled as he yelped. One of his hands came to weakly grasp at your wrist. “Please..!” He whimpered. The touch seemed to bring you back a little and you lessened the pressure. 

“I said; am I clear?” You repeated. You’d gone this far; the least you could hope for is that this would at least bear fruit in some way. Caesar tried to nod, but was unable to do so. You still wanted an answer from him. “Am I clear?” 

“Yes..!” He quickly replied, most likely saying this to save his skin more than anything else. You weren’t having that. You needed more confirmation of his understanding. So, shifting your hand down on his horn to firmly grasp it at the very base, where you supposed it was attached to his skull, you growled out a ‘yes, what?’. You’d expected him to confirm that he wouldn’t treat you like crass anymore. “Yes, ma’am!” He whined. His back slid down on the wall a little as his knees seemed to give out. His eyebrows scrunched together in some odd semblance of pain, though he seemed quite far from actually suffering. 

You hadn’t expected that type of response, and you were a bit scared of the reaction it internally coaxed. Out of shock, you withdrew from him completely, frowning in slight confusion at him. “Just don’t treat me like that again.” You replied. You took a few steps away from him as Caesar tried to gain his bearings. He pressed a gloved hand to his face, as if trying to gauge how flushed he was at the moment, despite, well, wearing a glove and knowing it would prevent him from feeling temperature altogether. Though from the fact that he didn’t seem all that far from sweating, it should be enough of a sign for him to realize that he was incredibly red at the moment. He looked down at you with dilated pupils and slightly upturned eyebrows. His eyes were a bit foggy; not quite all there yet. 

“You, uh…” He huffed out, catching his breath a little. He was still leaning against the wall. Now that you were a bit calmer, you couldn’t believe what you’ve done to him. The extent to which you… influenced him. That sort of power made you feel… good. Were you not a decent person, you might have tried it again on him, right now. 

Instead, you decided to flee before Caesar could convince you to give in to your impulses. 

[xoxoemynn]

8, 14, and 64!! (If any of these have been picked then pick the ones you want to be asked :) )

YAY thank you, friend!! I've answered a couple of these so I'll pick some fun ones for you. 💕

10. Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up Ed blinks and rapidly scrolls up and down the page. That can’t be it. A studio doesn’t just fucking cancel someone that successful. Ed had reviewed all the film grosses, both domestic and international; the numbers were there. And Ed saw the way the man danced; Stede was a phenomenon on his feet. And HB Low just let him fucking get away? Were they absolutely insane?

14. how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences? I rely a lot on music to get me in the right headspace. My go-to song, because I feel it gets into ALL the big Ed/Stede emotions for nearly every situation, is The Story. I will literally listen to every version I have on it on loop for however long it takes while thinking about whatever situation the characters are in and then go. I do sometimes draw from personal experience, but alas, I haven't had a Great Big Love like Ed and Stede, so when it calls for that, it's mostly just the power of imagination.

11. Link your three five favorite fics right now I haven't had as much time as I'd like to be reading, but a few that are lingering on my brain right now!

2 Fluff 2 Furrious by @monksofthescrew: the sequel to the PHENOMENAL Fluff. Summary: In which Ed and Stede and their (!) ten (!!) dogs take an unhinged and perhaps ill-advised roadtrip in a dog bus. It's cute. It's emotional. It's Ed and Stede stupidly in love with SO MANY CUTE DOGS. And it's an absolutely impeccable Ed voice. WIP, just one chapter for now, but I've read the next and it's SO GOOD.

Moment of Truth by @trans-top-stede and karawrites: It's the most gloriously frustrating time loop; set during 2x06, Ed and Stede can't come until they learn how to fucking TALK TO EACH OTHER!!!!! I'm a few chapters behind and I am very excited to catch up this weekend, but oh my god, the EMOTIONS and the SEX it's all so good.

The Incident at Direfold Manor by @helloimjennsco: GOOD SPOOKY HORROR. It's the kind of uncomfortable feeling, something lurking in the shadows watching you vibe and it's SO UNSETTLING I LOVE IT AND AM SO CURIOUS TO SEE WHERE IT GOES. Still a WIP, and this is one I'm REALLY glad to be reading as it posts because the twisty turnies are so tasty.

The Tolling Bells by @edsbacktattoo: Recently completed, absolutely gorgeous fic with a unique premise that feels all the more poignant after the cancellation. I just keep thinking about how there is NO POSSIBLE UNIVERSE THAT EXISTS, real or fictional, where Ed and Stede DON'T find each other and fall in love, and how lucky we are to get to witness that. Good shit.

I Spit on Your Grave by @epersonae: A complete one shot! I have accepted this fic as canon now. The conversation Ed and Stede have is one I was really craving in S2, and this version of it scratches that itch perfectly. And because it's epersonae, you know it's some really beautiful, emotional, evocative writing.

Get to know the fic writer ask game!

[thegodthief]

When I saw the length of entries in The Memoirs of Papalo Palo were considerable in yesterday's updates, I realized that AO3 would probably be a better home for the project. (That and I don't have any backups of it.) This morning I created the new work and copied all twenty-seven entries as chapters to an ongoing work.

Image Caption: "Language: English Words: 28,903 Chapters: 27/?"

Two-thirds of those words were written yesterday, over the course of the day as I played FFXIV on the desktop and had a text editor on the laptop to write the posts as I went.

I am stunned.

I am crying.

The idea of Papalo Palo came about as a "You know what would be fucked up make a good story? What if...", and the main points of the story unwound into the past from there. As I started playing the Lalafell character, Dter encouraged me to start writing a memoir of the character for others to enjoy and so I could stop telling her the story as I went. Sure. Why not? It would make good typing practice, anyway.

Papalo Palo reached CNJ 30 in one day without any help of gear, buffs, or hacks. FFXIV has been reworked to get new players to the end times end game as quickly as possible, after all. When I got the white mage job stone on him is when I realized that the story of Papalo Palo was going to be much bigger than just something for me to kick around. I created the side-blog, told no one of what I was doing, and threw everything in the wind.

Y'all know I'm still stalled on Book Two. It has been over a year since I last posted a new chapter, and the draft sits there and mocks me for my hubris. Y'all know that I have been in a bad way since October of last year. I have felt that I didn't have anything in me anymore. I couldn't make anything. I couldn't do anything other than put one foot in front of the other. I felt like I was only existing to serve other people and that there was nothing left in me that could create joy, much less share it.

Book One was a NaNoWriMo project gone good that I published in 2020. It is also over 100,000 words. At the time, I had the hubris to think that I could duplicate that for five more books in a series that I never intended to create from the jump, but the characters in Book One kept begging me to keep it going.

I fell down a lot in 2021. And in 2022. I barely remembered myself in 2023. Then I fell apart completely in October of 2023, and it has taken until a few weeks ago for me to consider that maybe I should make an effort at continuing to live.

And through all of these dark times, I would stare at the draft and no words would flow. I felt like my skill was dead, and that I was rotting from the inside out.

"I have all these words stuck in me, and they are rotting."

The Memoirs of Papalo Palo was an attempt to see if I could write anything again. If no one knew who was behind the character, then there would be no expectations of quality or quantity. Papalo could write a few paragraphs of observation or pour out his heart to flood the page in grief. No one would care.

No one would care if Papalo wrote something every day or in weekend spurts. It's a fanfic after all, and fanfic writers are notoriously inconsistent with timing.

Today, after I finished copying everything to AO3, I permitted myself the arrogance of looking at the total word count. To be honest, I was expecting no more than 10k for the entire work to date. Not... that.

I'm still crying.

I still have in me to write. I can make the words flow. I can take the thoughts of a character and put it down in a way that others can read, that others can feel.

I'm not worthless. Not yet.

I'm going to continue with The Memoirs of Papalo Palo and post the entries here and on AO3. And maybe, I'll be able to face the draft of Book Two fix that thrice-fucked opening chapter, and get Melissa on her way again.

We'll see how I fare in the light of the Crystal.

[insipid-drivel]

Buddy, its not that serious. Youre the reason people hate tumblr 😅 im just a person that said one comment that clearly tickled you. Youre role playing an argument that no ones having. You just made stuff up to be mad about. Strange behavior.

Since you needed to tag me, im here to say im not biting that troll post. Also notice im not on anonymous sending threats?

Seek help. Step back from the key board. Its not that serious, its tumblr.

You're free to leave tumblr at any time if it makes you happy, because something I said clearly tickled you enough for you to show your ass up in my askbox. I like it here, been here for 11 years, and you're not gonna spook me by showing up in my asks like a creepy jack-in-the-box just to tell me "I didn't read shiiiiiit!"

I know you didn't read shit, because you wouldn't say you're not a racist on your blog while defending a system that was created to perpetuate religious and racial segregation if you actually had.

You're going through an awful lot of effort to let me know that you didn't read what I replied for someone who didn't actually read what I replied with. The "it's not that serious" retort in an attempt to minimize my response to you is a very transparent "I don't have a very good response for having my highly-inflammatory commentary publicly lampooned with a single Wikipedia page." If it's not that serious, then why do you feel the need to message me? Are you trying to flex in front of your followers or something? Because clearly you must be new here.

I didn't even know you replied until a few minutes ago because I was watering my apple trees and checking them for aphids. I'm hoping natural populations of ladybugs will keep them away, but I may have to spend some of my disability money on a box of ladybugs to set free on 'em since I haven't seen many this year. The only push notifications I get from trees are usually when the wind kicks up and a branch smacks me in the head, but that's between me and the tree, so I didn't see your ask until I got back inside. I don't blame my neighbors and have them fined for erratic tree motion endangering my hair, but you sound like the kind of neighbor that does.

And "You're role playing an argument that no one's having"? I wasn't the first person that spoke up against you? 3 other people just on the version that I saw reblogged to my dashboard had already replied to you with their well-founded arguments! I was just the first one that highlighted the racist side of the subject and how catastrophically negative the ramifications of them have been over the past century and how you can't be pro-HOA and anti-bigotry at the same time!

All that was in my reply were direct quotes from the Wikipedia page about HOAs and the "History" section, with the text copy+pasted over with its associated links to sources and citations for any users that may require tools like text-to-speech to read small fonts and blocks of text and look at the citations themselves straight from the comment. Did I intentionally antagonize you in my summaries after each paragraph because you were bragging about how you manipulate and control your neighbors using a historically-racist system? You're damned sure I did, because I don't like you and I'm not gonna bend over backwards to pretend to tolerate you or show you the slightest hospitality.

You are the skinhead that walked into my bar, and I'm the bartender telling you to get the fuck out so none of your friends that share your opinions ever think that my space is a hospitable place to revisit. You are sending an ask to someone that firmly believes that every human being on this planet, including you, deserves housing, food, water, a living wage regardless of employment or salary, and medical care given to them as basic rights and dignities. I'd sooner allow OceanGate to fly me into Venus than give you even the slightest inkling that approaching me at all with your ill-informed and discriminatory "opinions" already aired for me to see is something I will tolerate in silence, while I still recognize that you are a fellow human being. All you care about is having an expensive house - you don't give a shit about "community". You don't even seem to know what "community" really means. Your idea of "community" is more apt for the definition of a Potemkin Village.

HOAs were built on racist policies that white Americans couldn't stand to let go with the end of the Jim Crow era, and I am not about making friends with anybody that uses that kind of garbage to manipulate and control the people that are stuck with them as neighbors because "waaaah my property values!" The fact that you aren't incensed about how much religious, queer, and ethnic minority groups get fucked over by HOAs? Means you are not my ally. You are part of a centuries-old problem that I want to see fixed.

I own a home with my family. I pray all the time that my house's value fucking tanks, so that way my property taxes go down and saves me and my family more money every year. I want and hope to live in my home for the rest of my natural life so long as I can help it, and if enshittifying it to the sensibilities of property evaluators to save money works? Great! If you're aiming to keep the cost of your property sky high? Then you're already setting up to be somebody's asshole landlord, and if you love tumblr so much, you probably know how a lot of users feel about landlords these days.

Your beliefs about HOAs, are, in fact, discriminatory toward the real human people that have to put up with them, including you, and you're doing your part in carrying on the legacy of bigotry that HOAs were always intended to carry on. It's interesting how much good you seem to think you're doing while simultaneously treating your neighbors like they're beholden to you and your real estate advisor; that yours is the only property that matters, and they're just slow on the uptake that they have a new idol to genuflect to in order to maintain tranquility in their lives.

See, I don't give ground to bigots like you who use outrageously outdated and viciously discriminatory policies borne out of the Jim Crow era that favor you in order to exert your personal mandates and beliefs over your neighbors and their property when they're doing nothing to put you, your home, or your loved ones in actual danger or risk (and no, honey, lowering your property values because the neighbor isn't mowing their lawn to the right height or is working on a car within your line of sight does not count as putting you in danger).

Just like you can't touch anything related to Harry Potter due to JK Rowling using it as her platform and primary source of funding for her transphobic campaigns, HOAs by their very nature and origin cannot be used "for the greater good" without simultaneously perpetuating the generational violence and hate that it's based on.

I already know that multiple people made extremely good and insightful arguments against your beliefs that HOAs exist for the greater good for your property values just by looking at the notes and comments of the original post after you added your thoughts without even mentioning how HOAs are rooted in racism and bigotry, so I know that the real person here itching for a fight is actually you, because you could've chosen after the 2nd person replied negatively to you to just let the subject drop and let the replies under yours be nothing but an echo chamber for people like me you don't agree with and laugh while you disappear into the horizon with no one the wiser.

Instead, you waited less than 30 minutes after I posted my reply building on theirs with actual cited sources and further information about the actual, factual history of the subject to start getting defensive and in my face while also bragging about not reading any of what I said. It's just nonsensical dumbassery on your part to say "lol I don't read troll posts" on top of bothering to engage with me at all. So, I guess, thank you for being my human prompt for continuing to expand on the subject of Why HOAs Are Bad? Anyway.

See my askbox? You're free to be anonymous on my blog. You're free to send me hate anons if it makes you happy, because there is nothing you can do or say to me, anonymous or not, that will genuinely cow me into behaving the way you want me to, which is why your only recourse is to block me and move on, per tumblr basic etiquette, or just don't engage at all. What are you trying to achieve here by even responding to me? An "I'm sowwy I pointed out that the system you love for keeping your house value sky high and manipulating your neighbors for the sake of your own self-interests is entirely rooted in bigotry and hate because you Sent Me A Message Without Anon Status?" I don't give a fuck about you, @glutenfree-rootbeer! I wouldn't spit in your ass if your guts were on fire! It's your ideals that I take exception to and bothered to engage with.

Your original comment already had plenty of backlash aimed at you specifically well before I chimed in. Tagging you directly only helped me see that you really are looking to die on the HOA hill and need yourself people to try to laugh at and punch down on - so much so that you're the one that can't step back from the keyboard and realize that you're 100% in favor of employing policies that enable racist, sinophobic, transphobic, homophobic, and antisemitic segregation policies and housing restrictions. I didn't even dip my toes into the subject of Redlining, either.

By the by, I actually edited out the multiple times I tagged you directly in my reply, but missed one or two tags by mistake, because I did take a bit to think and went, "Yeah, actually, maybe tagging them personally is taking it a little far. I'll post up my comment, but keep it vague who I'm specifically responding to," But you've been such a regular Johnny-on-the-Spot with getting back to me personally that I have a funny feeling you'd still be here pissing in my ear anyway.

To digress back to a topic that actually matters, you cannot defend HOAs and also claim in public that you are not a bigot or, at the very least, an absolute blight on anyone unfortunate enough to have you as a neighbor that dares to do anything on their property that offends you. You are espousing the use of associations that have only ever been used for the sake of keeping "undesirable" people out of your community or otherwise being beholden to you and what you think is the proper way to upkeep your neighborhood.

If you can't handle having your uninformed and ignorant views that you took actual time to detail under someone ELSE'S post, so stop acting like you're the OP when you're just another commenter like I was, then you're gonna have a bad time when someone like me shows up with more information than you're prepared to respond to.

If my followers, mutuals, or anyone who is fully welcome to reblog this and share with their own circle that are curious about how horrific the history of HOAs and their absolutely nightmarish ramifications on our housing market, national economy, racial relations between white and BIPOC communities, John Oliver did an entire 26-minute segment about it that covers even more than I did:

@glutenfree-rootbeer, you may wanna just go to lastsqueaktonight.com to watch the Chuck-E-Cheese episode as a special treat if you managed to read this far.

For those who may want to see what started this whole thing, you can see the original post with @glutenfree-rootbeer's take on how HOAs are good along with my and other users' response to how they aren't Here.

And rootbeer? Don't even try to edit it. I took screencaps. They're under the cut ;)

This is word-for-word an exact screenshot of what you touted for posterity, because you strike me as the kind of person that would try to panic-edit and cover their tracks for the sake of plausible deniability if things got too uncomfortable for you <3

[d-x-z]

ICE ICE BABY!

Evil morty (from the fanfic) x male reader

Note: If you read the fanfic, I do call back to their times, and I mention this one before, but I will turn them into oneshots >:)

(Posted before the fanfic is published—needed to be proofread, arc 1 needs to be rewritten/improved— for context, evil morty is just morty prime but before he decided to go solo. Pre-rick event)

17+ DNI, 16 and under blogs only!!

IMPORTANT NOTE: if there's weird cuts that skips paragraphs that doesn't complete the last one please tell me cuz my clipboards weird and won't copy paste the whole thing so I have to cut it into sections and I post through phone and it's so fucking awkward to work around

Desc: snow angels, hot chocolate, ice skating, and a burning heart to warm themselves for the winter... and even a furball to surprise them♡

Type: love/fluff

"YAYAYAYA WAKE UP MORTY!!" The brunette was passed out on his bed as a drool went down his face."MORTY WAKE UPPPPPP ITS SNOWING!!" yelled the boy who was clinging unto his life as he's outside his window. groaning, he started clawing unto the window with his hands.

"I don't want to bother your parents by going through the front door!!" Trying to claw the window open, he then saw morty stir up. The exact moment he opened his eyes, he saw Y/n covered in snow. The only thing keeping him warm was the ear muffs and the sweater he wore, "what the? Y/n what are you doing??"

He yawned as he got up to open the window. Without thinking, he let Y/n in forgetting he was covered in snow "jesus! It's cold!!!" He shivered when Y/n shook his body spraying the snow towards him as well. As y/n picked up the ear muffs he shook off "Wanna go outside and make a snow man? It's snowing right now"

pointing his thumb behind him to the window morty looked at his clock "it's 6 in the morning.. let's go downstairs even mom won't be awake during this hour. It's holidays, " he rubbed his eyes as Y/n followed behind only problem was it was snowing a bit too hard, they had to wait for a few hours to calm down.

Morty went to the bathroom while Y/n went downstairs to the living room passing by the front door to take off his shoes. Sitting on the couch, he looked out the window it really was snowing hard...did he lock his windows??

He thought to himself before deciding to deal with that later. He heared footsteps behind and it was morty in a ugly Christmas sweater "yeesh goodmorning" Y/n tilted his head backwards to see morty, his view was upside down.

“anyways you ate breakfast?” Y/n sat back up to turn around “nah, got hot coco?” morty went away to the kitchen while Y/n followed by “not nesquick, like actual hot coco” Y/n stood beside him in the counter

“that will take a whole 20 minutes to do Y/n..” “it’s not that bad, We got the time it’s christmas! C’mon get the cups i’ll get the stove ready” Y/n opened the cupboard before morty got the mugs from the drying rack

Y/n placed a pot on the stove along with milk, “can you get the sugar and cocoa powder for me real quick” Y/n opened his palm while morty searched through the kitchen and placed it on his hand

Placing in cocoa and sugar he stirred the pot, “vanilla extract, i think summer placed it in the left cupboard the last time i remember” morty checked but it wasnt there, checking the other cupboard he finally got it

Handing over to Y/n. Placing a few drops of extract he handed it back to morty, stirring it morty handed over the mugs opening the fridge to search for the whipped cream “oh my god wait, we need chocolate chips morty do you still have some??”

“oh shit, no sorry dad used it all last night for his ginger bread house” morty rolled his eyes before walking towards him with whipped cream “dang it, it’s fine we still got the creamy version of it

Pouring the hot coca unto the mugs morty helped Y/n with placing whipped cream on it “there’s still some more, let’s just keep it here. They can heat it later if they want some” morty told before bringing the mug to his lips

Sipping unto the hot coca, he cringed and retracted “hot!” Y/n laughed “dumbass i JUST made it” morty and Y/n stood leaning unto the kitchen counter, morty looked at Y/n blowing unto his mug. Y/n looked at morty looking at him before he akwardly laughed “what? Got something on my face?” morty shook hid head no before sipping his hot coca

“well seems like you’re the one that does now” Y/n laughed before his hand reached to morty’s lips, wiping away the whip cream on the corner of his mouth “o-oh, thanks” he felt something

But he couldn’t exactly pin point what he did feel at that moment, “c’mon let’s get back to the living room i think there’s a new episode of south park out” “jesus, how many season’s do they have already?” “dunno, it’s fun watching though”

As the morning passes by, Beth and Summer woke up to see morty and Y/n under a blanket watching the tv.

“seriously? I still don’t understand how you’re a dog person morty” watching dogs surround Tom holland in his puppy interview “dogs are cool! They’re just really fun to be around”

“you wanna get a dog?” morty looked at Y/n crossing his hands with a happy grin “yeah?! Who doesn’t” “what are you gonna name it when you actually do get one?” morty rested his head on Y/n shoulder thinking to himself

“dunno...probably snuffles” Y/n snickered trying his best to cover it “Hey! I can feel you laughing!” morty called Y/n out “of course! But why snuffles? Not like i can stop you from naming your dog” Y/n wheezed at the thought

“they’ll have good fur! And we can cuddle too!”

“what if they don’t wanna?”

“...”

“what if they have short hair?”

“... I’ll still love him”

“what if it’s a girl?”

“Y/n!”

“PFFT- okay okay i’ll stop”

Hearing a pair of key’s chime both boys looked behind him “excuse me boys, can you both please wake up jerry upstairs. We’re going to be late for the towns christmas show, if you both want to go to the skating ring early then you better wake him up. And morty go get ready last time you forgot your scarf and gotten sick”

Both Y/n and morty complied before Y/n simply followed morty, “wanna go to some stores after ice skating?” Y/n brought up “im broke, used my last pocket money to get gta 5” “aw boo, okay then”

///

The towns center was crowded with people, Y/n and the smiths watched the stage as acrobats sang and danced together. Morty once more looked over to Y/n’s face seeing his eyes light up im amazment

Even though the snow is pouring in, and he’s barely keeping himself warm he couldn’t help but feel warm inside. Y/n looked back at morty snapping him back to reality as Y/n shook morty “MORTY LOOK AT THEM!! IT’S SO COOL!!” Y/n excitedly cheered

Instinctively holding unto morty’s hand to not get lost in the crowd, time passed by as now the show finally ended. Both Y/n and the smith family were now in a more cleared up crowd as they dispersed to the different food stalls and venders selling ugly christmas sweaters

“ok you both boys be safe alright?? If you need anything me and jerry are gonna be near the food stalls ok?” both nodded before Y/n dragged morty to the ice ring, morty slipped on the snow but Y/n still pulled him up with joyful laughter as the two boys laughed it out

Standing in front of a guy giving out skates “10 bucks each” Y/n gladly paid for morty before they went over to check which skates would fit them “you still don’t know how to skate Y/n you sure you can do this?”

“you doubting me pokemon collecter?” “you collect pokemon card too!?” Y/n laughed before standing both held hands before entering the ice ring, once they did Y/n instead gripped unto the railings

“okay! Okay! This could be the biggest regret ever!” Y/n held the ring like a scared kitty morty simply stood there perfectly fine “just try walking towards me, v shape remember?” Y/n looked at morty reaching his hand out while the other rest on his hips

Breathing out Y/n made small steps to him, a small smile appeared on his face after morty finally gotten to hold unto him “wow, im suprised you didn’t slip yet” “shut up” Y/n grinned looking down unto the ice

“now follow me, and don’t drag me down when you do fall” morty warned Y/n lightly “pfft, i definitely will” morty rolled his eyes before letting go of Y/n leaving him in the middle of the skating ring

“m-morty!! Asshole don’t leave me here!!” “well, just do the same thing you did before. Just without me holding you” Y/n wanted to panic but he’ll fall on his ass if he did “no! I WILL fall if i try going towards you”

Morty slowly backed up “quickly before the gap starts increasing” Y/n’s eyes twitched before his skate dug unto the ice skidding towards him, morty was actually shocked that Y/n managed to get himself to move faster than what he’s personally comfortable with

“w-wait i don’t know how to stop!?” Y/n yelled, morty moved a bit to the left before grabbing y/n. But he underestimated how fast the momentum went and got dragged along with Y/n

His eyes widened before he dug his skate to the ice preventing them both to fall,

the warm breaths of both boys breezed to their faces, as their faces were so close to one another. Both of their face’s turned bright red, either from the cold or their proximity, Y/n felt warm

His chest filled him with a warm shiver. Before he went to quickly kiss morty, before morty could reciprocate Y/n managed to stand up by himself “a-anyways, wanna go skate else where?”

Y/n grinned while morty looked at his eyes “y-yeah”

///

“that was fun” morty looked at y/n “you fell 16 times that whole 30 minutes we were in there” “still fun” looking around morty looked at a wishing station, “Y/n, you wanna go wish?”

Looking at Y/n “oh, sure-sure yeah!” he smiled “wait go ahead i’ll just tie my shoes” Y/n raised his eyebrows before slowly walking away “yeah but you need to hurry up m-”

SMACK!

A snow ball was thrown at the back of his head, turning around he saw morty holding a few more snow balls “betrayal!! C’mere you little shit!” he smirked before cupping snow on his hands throwing it at morty

Chasing after him both boys laughed “can’t catch me shorty!” “morty im literally taller than you!?” morty tried throwing a snow ball at him but Y/n dodged “nuh uh” Y/n looked at morty getting the reference

“the fuck you mean nuh uh!?” he quotted back, before throwing a snow ball at his back, morty threw his last snow ball but missed and hit another persons back. Both boy’s eyes widened before Y/n rushed to the closest stall to pretend to check out it’s contents while morty turned around seeming a bit lost looking around

The man looked around in shock and anger, but morty looked at Y/n and walked towards him “best fucking save ever” “best counter attack ever” morty looked at Y/n confused but his face was stuffed with snow

“BLEGH! It came in my mouth!” “mia khalifa’s sex tape” Y/n laughed proud of the reference he made, he helped clean his hair from the snow. And shockingly enough they were already at the wishing stall

Both boys were greeted by the stall worker “and how about you two? Care to give a wish stick a try?” Y/n smiled before pulling out 2 dollars “oh no need for cash, it’s free for couples” She smiled

Both boys looked at her with a blush, but played in for free wishes. The lady shook the box before presenting it to the boys “first think about your wish, then pick out one popsicle stick”

Both of the boys glances at each other before picking out a stick

[your embodied love, they aren’t far from your reach. Maybe they’re in plain sight]

Y/n hummed to himself with a smile

[everything you love, will be there for you. It will never find itself away from you]

Morty’s eyes clicked realizing something before looking at Y/n

“now, kiss the popsicle and burn the tip. It’s a sign of promise that whatever your wish was will come true”

Both boys kissed the popsicle and burnt the tip on the red candle.

“now keep that popsicle and never show anyone, you can only reveal it once it’s been granted to you” she smiled before the two boys thanked her and walked away

“i already got mine granted” “same here” “so what’s yours?” morty looked away before showing his popsicle stick Y/n “aww that’s so sweet! Mine’s cute” Y/n showed him his popsicle

Morty smiled at it “yeah, c’mon let’s go eat”

///

“morty try these crepes!! They’re really good!” Y/n offered some of his crepes to morty, morty took a bite off it before humming “it’s actually pretty good, want to try this shawarma?”

Y/n nodded before morty offered some as Y/n bit into it, “oh, it’s spicy” Y/n’s taste buds shifted from sweet to spicy “yeah, i just wanted to try some since they’re about to be out” both boys walked by each other before

Morty’s ears perked up and heared something, stopping and looking around Y/n stopped with him, confused. “you ‘aight?” “wait..” morty handed over his shawarma before shoveling his hands throught he snow

Y/n peeked to see morty holding a small dog “w-what!? Holy shit morty!? Is it still breathing, we need to get it near warm fire or something!??” Y/n panicked before morty took off his orange scarf and covered the dog for warmth

“c’mon let’s go to my parents there might be a warm fire around” Y/n followed morty before taking a sneaky small bite into his shawarma

“morty! Dear god where did you get a dog??!” jerry looked at morty in shock, they were sitting at a table Y/n placed their food down “let’s go to that stall they have barbecue maybe we can stand near it for heat!” Y/n pointed out before morty and Y/n quickly rushed over

Standing near the barbecue Y/n apologized for having the dog near the food but the one who ran the stall understood and allowed them to use the heat, even once the food cooked they placed it else where just so that morty can help the dog get warm

“who would leave a dog out here like that??” morty checked that it’s fur was quite dirty, probably a stray. morty slowly patted the dog to try pumping it’s blood flow, Y/n scratched the dogs ear

“poor little guy...” “he probably was abandoned, the snow unfortunately came around these times so he had to survive on his own” morty frowned Beth and jerry came over “okay boy’s let’s go home, Summer’s heading over to her friends house for a sleepover. And then maybe we’d find a way to take care of the poor dog. Where did you guys even find it?”

Beth passed their food to Y/n “we were walking after getting food and morty probably heared a whine under the snow” Y/n looked at morty holding the dog “yeah were going back home, now that morty can’t use his scarf he’s definetly going to catch a cold and the dog needs warmth and probably food”

“so you’re gonna keep the dog?” “of course i will!” “it’s funny, didn’t we talk about dogs this morning? It’s like some christmas miracle you just got him” Y/n held beth’s hair blower and had it to low heat

The dog was conscious but very weak, morty still kept it laying on his scarf a small plastic bowl with left over food from yesterday “what are you gonna name him? It’s a boy right?” morty nodded

“hmm, snuffles.” “you’ve got to be kidding me” “what? It’s the best i can come up with! And he also has nice fur!” morty patted the dogs belly “you could’ve gone with snow balls, his fur is white as snow. And either way he even looks like a snow ball when he curls up to sleep!”

Y/n explained before morty gave in “ok fine, snowballs...” the dog looked around before sniffing the bowl. Y/n brought it closer to it before it started eating slowly. Y/n sighed and leaned near morty since the heater was closer to him

Morty looked at Y/n with a smile before cupping his face to kiss him

“merry christmas Y/n”

A smirked laid upon Y/n face looking at morty

“merry christmas morty”

Note: ... I still wonder how i still written them as friends during this. It’s called a psuedo relationship, situationship is more sexual and negative i think? which is not what im looking for. So a psuedo fit’s more better since it’s more on acting like a commited relationship even though both never really talked about it. And i thought about homoerottic relationship but google lables it to be more of a sexual desire thing too which i don’t think is what im trying to find so idk how to lable these two.

BUT ANYWAYS they’re friends with benefits i think? Google went and said “people who fear to really confess to each other” but i don’t think that’s the case between those two, they’re more like. Like. Losers that doesn’t know what to when it comes to love so they just literally “go with the flow”

ANYWAYS AGAIN, MERRY CHRISTMAS TO EVERYONE.

I will post the actual full fanfic instead of making one shots like these about them without much context and ig ‘canon’ plot explained so probably around january i’ll be posting it

[stopthatfool]

3, 77 :333

YAAAAA FENTOMY ILYYY

77. Do you have a favourite scene you've written from Your jeep. Your teeth. The coffee that you bought me.?

omg ummmmmm... i think it's this scene from chapter 3 about Mav's mom (whom I made up, she is not 'canon') idk i was just really proud of like.. the imagery? i think that's the word. I was also proud of how much this short scene tells you about Flo Mitchell as a character and as Mav's mom.

Pete had watched as his mother parked haphazardly, crooked, and partially on the dead grass on their front lawn. He watched her fling open the car door and slam it shut, clearly on some mission toward the front door. The flag next to the door hung static and still, like a dead animal strung up on a line waiting to be slashed and skinned, waiting to be picked apart and eaten, waiting for its entire life to come full circle and rot in some hunters stomach, waiting for its own bones to be thrown out and picked apart by the maggots. The flag hung dead, unsentient, while Pete’s mother– she was anything but. She walked up to the flag, shoes clacking on the cracked pavement, her arms swaying at her sides. She unhooked the flag from its stand, her hair billowing in the sudden wind. It turned alive as soon as she touched it, flowy and slippery, squirming and wriggling through her fingers. Flo balled up her fists in the fabric to stop the movement, the life that erupted from it transferring from her to the flag. As she walked back to the car, the flag slithered and moved with the waves created by Flo Mitchell. Then Pete watched as she opened the back door and threw the flag into the back seat. It lay there, dead and unmoving once again, sprawled out against the leather, the stripes overlapping and the stars crumpled and muddled. Flo picked up Pete from the passenger seat and cradled him against her side as they walked up to their new house. Pete yawned, “Why did you do that–? To the flag?” His mother only steered her head forward, eyes serious and focused, “That flag keeps your daddy away from me– from us–” She looked up to the setting sun, the sky all orange and yellow, “Why should I fly the thing that keeps him away– that puts him in danger?”

Flo Mitchell supremacy!! Anti-war queen and Tammy Wynette fan! She's just like me....

3. Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic.

i thought you'd never ask (this is going to be long sorry (im saying this as if it's not already long))!!

i cannot, for the life of me, work directly from the computer. I am a "traditional artist" (whatever that even means) at heart, meaning that I have to do everything on paper </3. So for the first idea of Your jeep. Your teeth. The coffee that you bought me. i mapped it out very loosely in my silly little notebook.

(i blocked out spoilers (maybe) for future chapters...) check out my terrible handwriting! and check out how different the plot was! What was i thinking? "Mav bumps into Ice with Bradley after visiting Carole" yeah... sure. But once i had that loose idea i started writing in that same notebook and things kind of went from there.

And then i realized that i should probably plan out the chapters on paper so there's some consistency. so that leads to the little list-like mind maps that i make--

This is from before i learned TOP GUN moved to Nevada (sigh). In these list-like mind maps is where i come up with some of the important dialogue that needs to happen between characters ("I don't need to see a fucking shrink, Kazansky") and it was in these that the plot really began to change from that first mind map. I've made these mind maps for every chapter that needs to happen for the story.

Then after the mind map, I actually begin to write all the scenes out. after i physically write them out, i type it all up in google docs (sigh). AND THEN i copy and paste it all paragraph by paragraph into Grammarly (free edition i am not paying for that) and edit it all. And then i do it again. and then one more time. and then i post it. im crazy.

Thank u for putting in the ask!!! ily fentomy!!! i love talking about my fanfic (as you have so kindly suffered through these past weeks, thank you.) <333

[sumbreon]

ive barely been here recently cause ive been consumed with reading again and im currently being haunted by worms (fictional)

yay i remembered how to do a readmore on mobile! you would think that being consumed by a piece of media would make me constantly blog about it but thats not how i work. i have to sit staring off into the distance just processing things

so my pc died! (and now lives again <3) and inbetween figuring that out i managed to entice myself to read again and finally read said the black horse by sanctus-ingenium (their tumblr handle. i would link to buy the book but their kofi shops down atm) and i devoured that fucking book im not okay about félix spent the past week thinking about this book and about félix. this is a book i wish i could have a physical copy of it cause i so badly want to be flicking back through to things that twig in my brain (the entire conceit of this post is those fucking worms making me go wait! fuck!) (im at work so i keep getting distracted so this probably wont be coherent but i need to get the worms out of my head at least a little) but augh... félix...

anyway theres a second book which im now 70%(?) through and the fucking worms... islin and the worms... woke up this morning and was led there half awake thinking about baby françois in the ruad and laughing about his mixture or formal speech and swearing and then that went to thinking about his being trans and he and félix threatening to go back into the woods in clarion wasnt cool with that and had a wait wheres inslin in this scene again? oh yeah he got worms in his arm

worms in his arm...

here we are in book 2 with a little flashback for islin

'You should try that, the worms call to him. Think of how impressed Félix will be'

the worms were already there... wasnt sure when exactly islin acquired his patron. thought it would be around when that flashback takes place maybe, learning blood magic from maxwell which in a way i suppose he learnt of the possibilities of it. already having the patron perhaps? (know its realistically gonna be moth based from the books being moth viper foal so silk worms maybe? [do all moths do worms or caterpillars or is there a specification for moth larvae? ill look that up if i remember later] theres at least one art i need to go stare at and sear into my brain) was islin picked by his patron long before it started asking things like félix? how long have the worms been whispering to him? how often do they speak?? i need to go back through the first book and find all the little thought italics and think on them... what is the price the worms want? the fuck did islin do to that captain??

something else weirds also going on with islins arms other than all the scars i think? i dont remember right now i need to go back and check that paragraph again... im also just fascinated by islin and the way he is for all his blasphemy still religious howd he end up like that? why is he still loyal to that god?

im also haunted by a lesser degree to félix's nun disguise does he keep choosing the nun disguise because islin called him beautiful dressed like a nun? okay he said it was becoming but thought beautiful. félix is this why you went with the nun disguise again???

if you read that jumble hiii i love you! :] i will continue to think about worms... read these books!

[libertyreads]

Book Review #88 of 2023--

Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros. Rating: 5 stars.

Read from July 8th to 10th.

Am I really giving a Fantasy Romance a 5 star rating right now?? Well, hopefully you’ve seen me live blogging my reactions to this one over the past few days so you know how this book was making me feel. Do I realize this is probably not the next great American novel? Of course. Was I a giddy school girl the entire time I was reading this one? Yes. This was so fast paced (and done well) and I just wanted to keep reading. Yesterday, I read 290 pages in one day (and I would have read more if I had the time) because I had to keep reading. It’s such a compelling story. Let me back up and give you a quick synopsis: We follow Violet who is entering the war college at the age of 20, but instead of going to the scribes like she always thought she would, this disabled young woman is forced to enter the quadrant for the dragon riders. The most physically and mentally demanding quadrant at the school. But when your mother is the general of the war college you do what she demands. While in her first year, Violet must overcome the physical challenges her disability and the school put in front of her. She uses her daily pain as a beacon to light her way and uses every advantage she has to survive.

I don’t know where to start. I loved the world building and felt like it was done in a way that made sense. I could see not only the setting that this was taking place in, but also the magic and the way it worked. I could picture all the different magic types and how their magic worked with the connection between dragon and rider. I could also picture all of the dragons and the way they moved in flight and in battle. I absolutely LOVE Tairn and Andarna. I cannot tell you how quickly these two dragons wormed their way into my heart. A magical companion will always, always become a favorite character. Another character I basically adopted as one of my children immediately is Xaden. Look, morally grey is my favorite color and I have to adopt all of the morally grey characters. It’s practically a law at this point. He is such the dark and brooding villain hero, but at the same time, when you hold him up in comparison to Dain (Violet’s best friend at the start of the novel), he is just the better person when it comes to how he treats Violet. Well, as long as we ignore the first part where he’s threatening to kill her. But you can’t have an excellent enemies to lovers without the enemies first. And that is what this novel has as the Romance part of Fantasy Romance. There were some solid romantic moments in this novel for me. It starts with Knife Flirting--the sharpest and most elegant of flirting styles in Fantasy. There’s also Hand-to-Hand Combat Flirting which I didn’t know was a thing but now want in every. single. Fantasy I read that has even a moment of a romance. Two of the other big, non-sexual, moments for me were when he had daggers made for her and when he had a saddle made for her dragon (and then just approached the most deadly dragon in the quadrant to ask if it wouldn’t mind acting like a fucking horse). But speaking of sex scenes, there are a few which would normally bother me as someone who is asexual and has a lot of trouble with how specific sex scenes get with what the characters like and how uncomfortable that makes me. But these were some good, and still spicy, sex scenes that I actually enjoyed reading. And if you can make me like a sex scene then that alone almost deserves 5 stars.

And that was a long paragraph. Okay, I also could note how the book had a few moments of not 100% great writing, but I had such a good time with this one. I really enjoyed it and I hate that I don’t have a copy. And I also hate that I can’t read this for the first time again. Overall, this is great for someone who likes Fantasy, likes Romance, likes the combo of the two. If you’re looking for something that just hits all the right beats in a magical world with dragons, a deadly war college, and political machinations, pick this one up and thank me later.

[safe-ship]

Heads up about the safeship creator everyone, they refuse to provide accessibility to screen readers despite being asked to multiple times & is generally ableist. Below are some screenshots + a transcript of a really long paragraph rant went on.

Context: An anon asked her to stop using ! and 0s to censor proship related things. This was her response:

Context: The same anon sends another ask that the OP screenshotted. (I cannot find the post as it seems she either deleted it or Tumblr's search feature is funky)

Their response is copied + pasted below. Content warning for NSFW mentions, sexual harassment (of the anon), and guilt tripping.

Listen dude i do know better you fucking insufferable misinformed prick. I myself need readability accessibility with ny fucking aphasia that is only getting worse. I already know firsthand how little people give a shit about this stuff becuz i need it. I already have difficulty writing legibly okay. And i get a lot of shit over this disability that i dont deserve. I made this fucking tag to help others to the point that i dont even block the few people weve had problems with so that even if i have to sed it at least the tag will work well for others. So if i have to put a 0 and ! In the forbidden word to decrease how much extra stress is gonna be on me from putting it straight up on their dinner plates then im fucking going to. Why dont you get off your high horse and grow the fuck up and stop making fucking assumptions. Cause im doing a hell of a lot more of kindness and effort for accessibility than you are for saying its immoral for someone WHO NEEDS screendreaders and is ashamed about it to choose a fucking single exclammation point over getting the regular bullshit i put up with from people who wanna be pedos x100 so that you can feel good abt yourself becuz u would choose the latter. Whether ur also a screenreader needer or not what you are is a fuvking asshole becuz i literally have two spine surgeries voming up with a huge threat of bevoming a paraplegic or dead before then and i have a shortened lifespan from all my disabilities. I come into this community to cope with how shit my life is and i try to make it better for others no matter if its a little harder on me and i get nothin but disrespect from invasive and presumptuous assholes like u behind anon who dont wanna have a real vonversation with me or actually think abt anyone but yourself and how good it feels to stroke ur moral dick over the dying woman and i have had it up to here!

U guys wanna keep coming in my inbox being assholes to me? No nuance in life im a bitch? So little thanks nothing but pussies on anon talking shit or invading my privacy? Maybe someone the fuck else should try and run this ship then becuz im fed the hell up and abt to deactivate.

And even despite being told twice to provide accessibility, they continues to be inaccessible even excluding shipcourse.

And in regards to more of their ableism, they told someone to "develop a frontal lobe" which is harmful towards those with intellectual disabilities. For context: calicofemme was their old main.

Anyway, do what you will with this information. If anyone wants to add more things to this regarding her behavior, go ahead & I'll reblog it. I made this post to raise awareness of how the creator is harmful and shouldn't even be in this community because of how they go entirely against their motive for making it.

[teaveetamer]

That guy is like "I don't want to see any harassment towards the person, anyway here's links to all their fics and socials"

Who could have ever foreseen this consequence. “I could have never encouraged any harassment campaigns!!!” as he literally encourages a harassment campaign.

I already left a comment to let the author know what was going on. I’m guessing he thinks this is some kind of “revenge” for BWIIDT critiquing Cap’s fic, but uhhhhhhh I’ve never read that fic he’s trying to criticize. I don’t think any of the “edelcrits” have. Not really into the ship and its fucking long too so I probably won’t either. I don’t really care if he critiques it, as long as he does it without literally sending harassment to the author?

You’d think the author having to delete dozens of harassing comments from his friendos would be a wake up call. Like maybe he needs to change strategy to help stem the harassment, because clearly he’s causing it since people are LITERALLY copy pasting paragraphs from his posts in the comments of the fic, but apparently he’s still linking to the fic on every post and made a master post so everyone could easily find his critiques and links to the fics without searching so like? Okay. So either you don’t actually care about the author getting harassed, or you want the author to get harassed you just want to pretend like you don’t. I can’t think of any other reason you would KEEP DOING THE THING LEADING TO HARASSMENT even after you clearly noticed you were causing harassment to happen.

I think everyone should go read the story, send the author some love, and tell her you’re sorry she has to put up with such childish tit-for-tat behavior over a situation she had literally nothing to do with.

[sorcerous-caress]

I feel you on writing descriptions of things in your work. I don’t know what it is I can know exactly what I want to do with a story and perfectly visualize it but when I write it I feel like it falls flat and dull. Like when I do describe something I feel like I’m describing things that don’t need to be. I feel like I have a problem with pacing as well getting to places in story too fast and cutting too many things short. I think it’s because I don’t read as much as I watch movies or shows or play video games so I imagine my work as visual media rather than a book. I think Baldur’s Gate has helped me a little though because of how the Narrator describes things. Sorry for venting about my writing I just wish copy & paste existed for brains.

Oh no dude no worries I am always open to talk about writing!

And yes, you've described it correctly. But for me, I do read more than I consume any other media. I watch 3 or 4 movies per year tops, I literally have never watched a show in years. I prefer listening to audio books or youtube essays. I like consuming words-only media.

But I still struggle with the same thing. I get bored too easily when describing things and I feel like if I'm bored then my readers would be bored too. I don't want to write something just for my work to appear more appealing or balanced or whatever.

That's why I prefer the fast pacing, condensing everything and jumping from one event to the other. I'm not describing how someone is walking from their bedroom to the hallway then bathroom then opening the door then closing the door then getting downstairs then going to the kitchen no fuck that.

They woke up, bed warm soft, now they're in the kitchen, keep tf up reader! Now we're driving to work and now we're in a meeting in our boss's office. And oh the work day just ended, we're in bed browsing our phone.

That's why I adore "I have no mouth and I must scream" it's narrtive but descriptive and yet the narrator jumps from one plot and setting to another, they never described how or what, they just change it and expect the readers to keep up.

And if that's whats works for you, then I say embrace it. Sure aim for a balance or to work on the areas you struggle with, but don't change your writing style just to appear like someone else or to fit what a story is usually supposed to be like.

I like using short paragraphs, i like making lines bite sized and always seperating things. I write that way because it's what I like as a reader, it grabs my attention and I get annoyed when I see long paragraphs and lose attention.

I had a friend who hates reading, absolutely gets bored and can't stand it. I sent them a short story I made once for a different fandom about a guy dealing with the loss of his parents and missing his mom, my friend told me that it was the first time they've ever read a story to the end without getting bored or feeling overwhelmed.

There will be people who like your fast pace and there will be people who hate it, write for what you like to read. And if it's bg3 writing then hell yeah go for it! I enjoy it at times but at others I find myself skipping it just to get to the point.

[bi-bats]

ok so. long list, you can pick and choose, yknow the drill. im a curious person. anyways!!! for the ask game: 7, 10, 25, 26, 35, 43, 48, 65, and Get It Together, Boys for 76, please! <3 <3 <3

Bean, you are such a gift 💖 We all know I'm going to answer all of these, both for you and because they're fun!!!

7. How do you choose which POV to write from?

The POV chooses me actually 😂 it's never really something I consciously decide? There's usually just someone whose inner dialogue I think we need to be hearing the most and that's usually the POV I slide to (which has also backfired on me before, because when I wrote the first chapter of the chokehold damitim fic it wasn't supposed to be damitim at all but being in Damian's perspective made me realize it had to be adkjfadsjkfl I'm gonna have to stay out of Damian's perspective in the jaytim version tbh)

10. Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up

The damitim fic is actually literally the only fic with unposted content that has the word blinks in it?? This is from the next chapter:

Tim looks up at him, rolls his eyes in a flash of green, and sighs, “Jesus, Damian. I’m an adult, I can cross the street without you holding my fucking hand.”  Damian blinks at him once, twice, and then he moves. He walks around Tim, leaving him in front of the bed, and feels Tim’s eyes on him as he makes his way to the microwave and pulls out his dinner.

25. What fic do you wish you got more of a response on?

What Are You Waiting For? Honestly I just love the way it flows and the writing, but also it isn't finished and I haven't updated it in like two months so I'm not really surprised lmao

26. Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

probably Non-Refundable Plans because the way it keeps bouncing from funny to serious and also all of the unhinged behavior from everyone all around 😂 I would make an argument for Rooftops and Bookshops because of the before and after, but I also hate the writing in that fic now. Seriously, it's one of my least favorite works now.

What I can tell you is that the fic that will be the wildest ride is Know Yourself. No doubt in my mind.

35. What is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain? 

The villain HAS TO HAVE A GOOD REASON FOR DOING WHAT THEY'RE DOING!!!! This is SO important to me. "Every villain is the hero of their own story" NO. NO THEY AREN'T. THEY DON'T NEED TO BE! SOME VILLAINS ARE TOTALLY FINE BEING THE VILLAIN AND I LOVE THAT FOR THEM!! IT'S ACTUALLY ONE OF MY FAVORITE TROPES "YOU WANT ME TO BE THE BAD GUY? FINE." LIKE YESDSSSDDFSDFAJFJK AS LONG AS THEY CAN JUSTIFY THEIR ACTIONS TO THEMSELVES THAT IS A GOOD VILLAIN. WE JUST NEED TO UNDERSTAND WHY THEY'RE DOING WHAT THEY'RE DOING.

43. Do you take a sadistic joy in whumping your characters, or are you more the "If you hurt them I would kill everyone and then myself" kind of person?

Oh, I saw this question and was like "there's no way anyone doesn't know the answer to this." 😂 I whump them to death daily. I whump them for breakfast, I whump them at work, I whump them while I'm sleeping. I'm actually whumping them rn in my head tbh 💖 Sadistic joy. It's like a stim toy to me.

48. What do you look for in a beta?

Someone who's going to be honest! Point out my typos, tell me if phrasing is clunky or doesn't work, tell me if a CHUNK of writing isn't necessary and needs to go. I want to make it better. But it is also lovely to hear the things that work! I basically love a beta who points out the things they like just as much as the things they don't (which doesn't necessarily mean it has to be an even mix instead of one more than the other, I just think of it like an art critique)

65. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

I'm looking forward to GETTING MY SHIT TOGETHER ON THE KONBART FIC I REALLY WANT TO FINISH IT AJKSDFALSK I LOVE WRITING BART AND I LOVE WRITING KON AND I LOVE WRITING THEM BEING IN LOVE

76. Did you have any ideas that didn’t make the final cut of Get It Together, Boys? 

I wrote that fic in like three days aksdjflaks honestly not really? But looking back at it, I would've really liked to dig into their book club a little! It would've been fun to show some of their conversations about books.

Thank you thank you thank you Bean 💖 I hope you enjoyed the responses!!

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

So my old laptop which was so fucked up it was difficult to get into apps and things, was giving me problems. Libra Office was either bugged or broken or maybe there was a virus, IDK. I experienced many times in 2020-2022 where I had no internet access for days at a time and would use the Libra Office Writer thing to keep up with my work and fanfics.

I started MANY fics. Worked on multiple chapters of current fics. Outlines of fics I want to finish. I can't access any of them now.

I have a Harry Potter/Orochimaru oneshot that was 6K words, that I cannot access anymore. I was able to somewhat access a Harry Potter reincarnates as Rin and is adopted by Sesshomaru fic after hours of effort, but I copy & pasted it into a Tumblr Draft because my internet wasn't good enough to pull up FFN or Google Drive in time. That draft saved weird so there are like triple spaces between each word and like a dozen spaces between each new paragraph and it'll be hell to edit or even copy from Tumblr to FFN.

I want to keep these works I did in all that free time and I can't even open the rest of them. There's always some terrible thing that makes it so I can't or makes them inaccessible and I'm so emotionally wrung out because of this.