#literally all I get is to tell myself that eventually I'll be able to do them all

[galehowl]

I have so many older and newer fan projects I literally have NO time to work on and it makes me really sad that most I can do is just think about them lol

I want to go back to telling my WoL's story, there's a Star Wars story I worked on an off on set in the Clone Wars era called Starfall, a Digimon fan story Aurora, and wanting to retell a story about my characters in WoW, set in the past expansions and in a more expanded world, just to name a few

[ghost-bxrd]

You know, just read that prompt about Timmy quietly accepting his own death at Jason's command...

I kinda want the opposite.

I want a furious, yelling, fighting Tim, with a major broken pedestal as far as Jason is concerned.

Okay, he can get why Jason blames him, for taking the Robin suit. And maybe Bruce deserves a bit of it too.

But what he absolutely can't and won't forgive is Jason going after Dick. Especially since Dick forgives it so readily, since Dick is the one pleading for forgiveness.

Tim was there. He saw what Jason's death did to all of them. And he can't believe Jason would ever doubt Dick, that Jason would turn up to hurt him worse.

Tim being like... "You know, all the time I was trying to keep them from killing themselves, I kept telling myself, telling them, that you wouldn't want them to hurt like that. But you wanted it, didn't you? Want it. You never wanted them to heal. You never wanted them to move on. Maybe, if you had come back then, come back when B was trying to get himself killed, when Dick was catatonic curled up on your grave and trying to starve himself to death, maybe you'd have been happy at last? Or would you have decided that isn't enough either? Not enough punishment for not making you his absolute top priority for once, just once, in his life?"

And Tim going "I hate you. But I'll pretend to love you, because everyone knows Dick will choose you anytime. And I daren't leave him at your mercy."

I want post-Red Hood Jason working to earn Tim's forgiveness and trust again.

Oh yes, that’s also an interesting take! And one that (I think) comes closer to how he would react in canon. Tim is a spitfire and we love him for it 💚

And while I definitely want to explore this version of him eventually, I think it wouldn’t tie into how the Owl Song verse is set up.

Although if Owl Song does get its continuation, I think there would be some struggling on Tim’s part. Not for himself (never for himself) but for Dick and Bruce. A struggle to make Jason understand that nobody ever wanted to replace him.

In this universe, Tim wouldn’t be able to scrounge up the anger that would result in him hating Jason. Jason did too much for him to do that. He brought Tim into the family fold. Without Jason, Dick would have never accepted him. Jason, though it wasn’t his intention and he genuinely loved Tim, built the stepping stone that resulted in Tim becoming Robin.

Because any other kid trying to be Robin after Jason? Dick wouldn’t have stopped his mad pursuit for anything. Tim having “hatchling” status (ie family) is literally what saved him.

If you look deeper than surface level, the Owl Song verse is pretty twisted in its own way. And Dick could very quickly become a real monster if nobody keeps him grounded at least somewhat. With Jason gone and Bruce being someone Dick now borderline despises— yeah, it’s very lucky that Jason met Tim in school and went “must protect” and had Dick pick up on that. 🦉

[embrosegraves]

𝔸𝕟 𝕌𝕟𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕙𝕪 𝕆𝕓𝕤𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟

Not the biggest fan of this I'll be honest. I don't think I'll do something like this very often, and if I do it won't be for a while. Anyways I hope you enjoy even just a little bit <;3

Warnings: Obsessive behaviour, Being unaware of listening devices, hidden camera, author not knowing how to put the correct warning for a fic lmao, I definitely missed something I know it.

Sebastian Vettel x Reader  Obsessed x Obsessed but Seb thinks it’s just him lowkey this was a little inspired by An Unhealthy Obsession by The Blake Robinson Synthetic Orchestra. It's a good song.

Sebastian was never one to invade the privacy of others. He was a gentleman, thank you very much! But he had gotten into the habit of finding out what room you were staying in at every hotel, just so he could… set up, before you got there. 

If anybody found out that he put walkie talkies in your room, he could always just say that it was in case you needed any help. One might argue that hotels had notoriously thin walls, but he was just being cautious. Sebastian was also convinced that no one would be able to find the microscopic camera he had stuck to the tv at the end of your hotel bed. 

Seb had been in his own room (quite literally next door) for about an hour before he heard you opening the door to your room. He listened to the walkie, and watched through the camera he had connected to his phone, as you put your luggage on your bed. He could tell you were exhausted with the flight over and he wished craved to be the one you’d turn to after a long day. 

Eventually his own exhaustion and the jetlag caught up to him and he fell asleep listening to you hum whatever song had been on your mind that day. 

— — — — 

You were exhausted. Having just gotten back from the paddock, your camera’s memory stick positively brimming, all you wanted to do was relax. Before you could spread out on the bed, you needed to change clothes. Get rid of the surprisingly uncomfortable team wear and surround yourself in something more comfortable. Paying no mind to the opened curtains of your hotel suite, you changed into a pair of cotton shorts and an oversized SV5 hoodie that made it look like you weren’t wearing pants.  

Finally able to flop down on the bed, you grabbed your laptop and your camera and started to transfer the images so you could pick out which ones to send to the media team. If you saved every photo of Sebastian, well no one but you would know. Eventually, you sent an email to the head of Media containing an array of photos that had a mix of different drivers within them. 

You spent the rest of your evening browsing the internet for anything even remotely related to the German driver that had been on your mind since you were 12.

— — — — 

He knew that you had only just changed the tyres of your car. Of course he knew. Afterall he was the one that caused you to need to change them in the first place. It had been all too easy to set up. He just needed to make sure that the road you usually took to drive home from the track had an invisible row of spikes that you would drive over. 

All he had to do afterwards was wait for you to call. He knew you would. He made sure that he spent enough time helping you so that he would be the first person you would call should you need help elsewhere. Hearing his phone ring when he was conveniently ten minutes away from you made his heart palpitate. His chest constricted so deliciously at the thought of hearing you beg him to help. He had to play this smart. 

“Yes, Leibe?” He sounded happy, something he would tell you was because of the adrenaline rush of placing on the podium. 

“Hi Seb, listen, I’m really sorry to ask this but do you think you could come and pick me up?” You asked him. “My car just suddenly got a flat tire and you were the first person I thought to call.” 

“Of course! I’ve actually just left the track not too long ago myself-” of course he had “Just send over your location and I can come get you.”

“Thank you so much Seb, I’ll quickly share my location so you know where I am.” 

“I’ll see you soon then, Liebe.” 

After he hung up, you shared your location, as you said you would. It only took him about 6 minutes to show up. No one had to know that he occasionally ignored the speed limits.

— — — — 

People would definitely call it creepy if they knew just how obsessed Sabastian Vettel was with you. He liked to think that it was romantic. To be entirely honest, you thought it was endearing how much he wanted you to be his. As much as the people around you were oblivious to Seb’s unhealthy obsession with you, you were a lot more observant than everyone realised. 

The first time it came to your attention was when you had joined Formula One as a Photographer. Having watched the sport for years now, and constantly keeping up with it throughout your studies, you knew every driver on the grid that year. Being ‘fresh meat’ in the paddock, you were easy to spot for everyone. The drivers more or less were not that interested in the new photographer that the sport had hired. If anything it just meant that they had to pose more than they already did. But there was one driver who couldn’t help but be absolutely fascinated with you. 

You thanked whatever power-that-be that Sebastian Vettel had entered into F1 the same year you entered puberty, as it allowed you to blame that on your sudden obsession with him. Being interested in him since you were 12 had given you plenty of time to become a master at hiding just how obsessed you were. So of course, when Sebastian came up to you to introduce himself, it was only too easy to see the signs of a brand new budding obsession.

— — — — 

Despite being so enamoured with you, Sebastian had never once been inside your house. His eyes were flitting around everywhere, trying to take in as much of your home as he could. You had invited him to come in for a cup of tea after he had saved you from being stranded with no transport. 

“Feel free to explore if you’d like.” You called to him as you made your way to the kitchen to fill up the kettle. You had no qualms about him snooping through your things. If anything, Sebastian snooping through your house might finally get him to understand that he wasn’t the only obsessed party. 

Sebastian was never one to turn down an opportunity that was literally being handed to him. The minute you had walked into the kitchen after telling him to explore, he went straight upstairs. The first room he entered was a bathroom. Nice and clean, spacious. Perfect for some relaxing should it be needed. He didn’t spend long in there. 

The next room he walked into happened to be your guest room. It was a bit plain, nothing too extravagant. A nice bed, a small closet space and a door that led to the relatively large balcony overlooking your backyard. Same as the bathroom, he didn’t spend too much time in the room.

The next room had him more excited than he would admit. Your bedroom. It was cosy and warm and it perfectly embodied everything he thought you were. There was a door that led to the same balcony as the guest room. He spent a bit longer in this room. He contemplated for only a split second whether or not he should look through your drawers, before he rationalised that you had given him permission to look around. Whether or not you meant looking around through your dresser was of no consequence to him. 

He was a little disappointed that he hadn’t found any raunchy toys in your bedside drawers. Nonetheless he continued on his way to the final room on the upper floor. 

Opening the door furthest from the stairs, he discovered your office. It was pretty standard for an office. A large desk with a computer, a comfy chair behind it. On one wall was a bookshelf full of literature of all kinds. He only recognised a few titles so he didn’t bother looking too intensely there. What he did look intensely at however, was a section of your office that could only be described as a shrine. Upon closer inspection he realised the subject of the shrine. 

Him. 

There were photos and photos of him at all sorts of points in his career. His first Formula 1 race, the first time he scored points, the first time he got on the podium, the first time he got pole position in qualifying, his first race win and his first WDC were among many of the countless photos of him that were proudly displayed. He had even noticed that there were newspaper clippings that had been cut out, and in every one of them he had been surrounded in a thick red heart shape. Standing right in front of it, he began leafing through everything that covered the small desk. 

“I thought I’d find you here.” 

Your voice had started Sebastian. His head shot up to look at you. How could he have been so careless as to stop paying attention to his surroundings? He had gotten caught red handed and he wasn’t sure how he could solve this. He didn’t want you to think that he was a creep (though given that you had a literal shrine dedicated to him, the chance of that was slim). 

“I usually keep this room locked when I am away.” You said, moving to place the two drinks you had brought up on your desk before sitting on the plush chair you had next to the shrine. 

“Did you know that I have cameras in every room of my house?” This was rhetorical. “I thought it was quite interesting that you looked so disappointed when you didn’t find anything interesting in my bedside drawers. I thought I might help you find what you wanted.” 

You reached over to open the drawer of the desk he was still standing in front of. His body hadn’t moved an inch, excluding his head that had followed your every movement since entering the room. Which meant that when you did get the drawer open, your hand ever so gently brushed against his thigh. The touch sent an almost violent shiver through both of you. 

Seeing you nod your head towards the now open space in front of him, Sebastian moved his gaze from your face to the contents of the drawer. This explained why he found nothing in your bedroom. Neatly organised inside the drawer was an array of lewd toys. Picking one up, he looked at them more closely. It wasn’t until then that he noticed that each and every one of your toys was customised. With his name on them. 

He fell even deeper at the thought that whenever you played with yourself, it was his name inside you. That it was his name that gave you pleasure and release. He almost didn’t notice the pair of panties you kept behind the toys in your drawers. He grabbed them and looked at the embroidery on the back of the lacy garment. 

“VDS?” The rasp in his voice had you feeling particularly wet and ready. 

“Vettel’s Dirty Slut was a little too long for such a small canvas of lace.” You elaborated. “I’d say I’m a dab hand at stitching, amongst other things.”

His eyes had darkened when you explained the acronym. He had envisioned having you in such a way since seeing you for the first time in 2014. “Show me.” 

You gave a sly smile as you grabbed his hand, leading him back to your bedroom, toys and panties still in his grasp. 

Your tea had long since gone cold by the time you had finished.

welp. there it goes. definitely not my best work, but rest assured that I will try my best to get better at writing more darkly themed fics. can't promise that I'll post my attempts all too often but I'll definitely work on it

thank you for the request Lovey!

[starbylers]

Can we talk about how Mike ‘not being able to say he loves El because he’s scared she won’t need him one day’ makes no sense when you consider that for Mike this conflict spans two whole seasons, and there needs to be a consistent character motivation throughout.

Mike struggling to tell El he loves her has been, on the surface, his main conflict since s3.

In season 3, after blurting out he loves El, Mike brings it up again at the store. He tries desperately to get his point across, to make El understand ('I've never felt like this before', 'blank makes you crazy, like the word'). But no-one can deny that in this scene Mike is doing everything he can to avoid actually saying love. Now, what is the Mlvn excuse for this again? 'He's not good at expressing his emotions’. That's their running narrative post s3. (Let's ignore how that's not even canonically true of Mike's character and continue).

We come to season 4, and Mike is still chronically unable to use the word love, even when speaking about El and not to her. (Like this is clearly a deeply ingrained thing but I digress). Pre vol. 2, the Mlvn excuses are still related to Mike basically being emotionally unintelligent (his parents, his age, blah blah). But when Mike himself finally reveals the big reason, it's...'I didn't want to tell you I loved you because I was scared you won't need me one day'? Okay. Theoretically, out of context, that could make sense. So this becomes the new Mlvn narrative.

Here's the problem: both of these things cannot be the root cause of the same issue. It's one or the other: either he can’t say he loves her because he’s bad at expressing feelings, or he’s scared El one day not needing him would hurt more. This two-season dilemma is part of one series-long character arc for Mike. Mike in s4 is the same person with the same struggles as Mike in s3. Whatever his motivation for avoiding it in s3 (which was never addressed, it’s not like we got closure for that and then they just came up with a new reason he can’t say it) must logically be consistent continuing into s4.

Can anyone seriously tell me that Mike, here in this scene, was struggling to say the word 'love' because he was 'scared one day El wouldn't need him':

No. Of course not. He was specifically avoiding the word, and the most plausible explanation for his aversion (if we're ignoring Byler) is that Mike's just a kid and love is a big scary word. Bad at emotions etc. Which is why Mlvns and GA subscribed to that narrative, it seems obvious. But it cannot be right because Mike reveals the 'true reason' in 4x09. This is the canon explanation, finally—he's been scared she eventually won't need him. Except, that cannot be right either, because that reasoning does not align with his obvious (again, ignoring Byler) s3 motivation (love being daunting for a young teen) for the exact same behaviour. Like he literally uses the exact same pattern of avoidant wording from s3 in s4 (‘I care for you so much') and like I’ve said this is all meant to be one singular, overarching conflict.

If the initial 'bad at feelings' reading of Mike was correct, you'd expect the monologue to be more along the lines of 'I find it really difficult to express myself but I do truly love you, so this is me being vulnerable and brave'. Personally, I would've somewhat bought that. As a Byler I would've been like okay, it's kind of boring cliché storytelling but I'll admit defeat. But that’s not what happens. Basically what I’m getting at is:

Neither of these explanations can account for Mike’s inability to tell El he loves her in both seasons, so then by the logic of Mike having consistent motivations, neither can be true.

Which leads to the conclusion that there must be a different, all-encompassing, underlying cause for his heavy avoidance. Something that connects all the dots. I wonder what that could possibly be.

[dropthedemiurge]

Boys Be Brave [Ep.6] // Translation notes

Balgeum was really writing down everything he spends his money on: food (which exactly), drinks, traveling expenses, rent etc.

To meet Inho, he planned for cinema ticket price (and came to the wrong cinema so ticket didn't get cancelled), popcorn and drinks (that he bought but it fell on the ground) and restaurant (that eventually ended up being a bit more pricey than he counted so Inho payed for him).

Literally, he planned everything and worked extra hard to earn enough money to go with Inho on a date, but everything went south. No wonder Balgeum got so stressed out and ashamed when he's already deeply thinking he can't provide for anything therefore doesn't deserve to be with someone %)

He even cancelled the first popcorn choice and went for a bigger one because he wanted even better for Inho :( Btw if anyone is curious: They're in a popular Korean cinema MEGABOX and Balgeum's order was Double Caramel (and then he added Garlic one as well) plus Peach Ice Tea at first and he changed it to more expensive Grapefruit Lemonade :] And then it all went to waste Т__Т

That's also why he got slightly angry that Inho didn't enter the movie because it meant the ticket Balgeum bought also was wasted and Inho payed for them again – so he insisted on buying popcorn and drinks again (but he would be able to pay for restaurant if he accepted Inho's treat. He would never though, that shame is deeply ingrained) (but Inho is just happy even walking with you on streets aaaah idiot - affectionately)

And of course, an expensive gift from Inho and him offering to pay for the rest of their evening felt like a knife in his heart too. All his thoughts revolve around his poor state and shame, even though Inho tries his best to show he doesn't mind or mock Balgeum at all. It'll be definitely hard to unlearn.

"Why are you like this today?" "It's not just today. It was impossible since the very beginning, but I tried it in vain anyway."

And then there was a translation mistake which you can kinda guess in the context: Inho pleads "You have to tell me so I would know (what was wrong). You want to leave without giving me any explanation?!"

Because Gaga doesn't translate cursing, let me do it for you :)

"I still like you. It was all a lie when I said I didn't. I still really like you, but... But I hate myself so fucking much. Fuck, I hate this version of myself so damn much. I hate myself even more when I'm with you."

Meanwhile, we have our sweet couple here! If I'm not wrong, Kiseob used the same phrase in "I'm right next to you/I'm right by your side" as when he promised Jinwoo in "I'll stay by your side always and never leave". And he said it after their short break up and going their own lives. No, he won't leave him anyway. Cue feelings!

// other Translation Notes for Boys Be Brave //

[reneethekraken]

What a Doll

Being an office rep at the Revision of Hero Society comes with costs, talking to everyone and trying to not make an enemy out of the wrong ones. Somehow this means becoming business partners/ Frenemies/Pining lovers with Backugou and Kirishima. Though, Gangsters, they know everything about their community and these people are still people, and it's your job to help them. Being so young and running for office means being bullied by the older members of the Pro Hero society and eventually being pushed to the company, laying her off and leaving her alone with her thoughts. Shutting everyone out for weeks before finally leaving to party with Mina for a bit and when she sees Bakugou in the bar she dashes leaving her purse and keys on the bar counter. And of course, seeing her he follows her taking her keys with him.

WARNINGS: Angst, emotional, Bakugou doesn't realize how mean he is because Kirishima likes it, Reader is soft asf, Bakugou is definitely still an asshole. Blank blogs and ageless blogs DNI

PAIRING: Bakugou x reader, suggestive kiribaku x reader

WORD COUNT: 1.5k 

A/n: constructive criticism is always appreciated

This is ridiculous. I couldn't think of a sillier way to go home than this one. Walking slower than my thoughts so I can keep up with myself and not throw my eyes over my left shoulder. My feet are sore from the jacked up heels, my blouse is too wet from my urgency to have a good time and my pants are too thin as the wind blows around me on this street. All while my car slowly rides to the left of me.

He's mocking me, he has to be

He mocked my choices trying to tell me that he's already won. I don't know what to say because the thought of speaking to him brings tears to my eyes and my throat gets so tight I want to die.

I’ll never be prepared.

I'll never be able to stand up to them. Even on the days, everyone thinks I have them right where I want them, a board full of pieces that I've already accounted for. They'll never understand that the two of them are the ones who drew up the board. It's greedy, to have someone who shares similar ideas as me yet degrades my every move

“That was a selfish decision. You would have done better writing up your damn think pieces and putting them in a burn book instead of slathering your name all over an unfinished piece that makes you look like a lousy piece of uptown nobility. I don't live here but you all are making a ruckus and it makes me feel bad that I get to sit in my highrise and even look at ya.”

“If I was on the board you would have been put out the commission a long time ago, fixing my city yet telling me how’re gonna take my job, drink my coffee, and fuck my wife all before noon.” 

That's a sick way to live, miss board member, good plan. Even better spokesperson. The Daughter of mass Mutiny comes from the 3rd and last gang in the U.S. and yet she sits here in the Commissioner's office thinkin’ she's better than me. That title doesn't negate that if I wanted you and your bright ideas I'd take I’d still side with the very office that's shooting down every punch you make. And when you're beaten down thinking there's nothing else you could do, I’d give you my hand and let you realize there's nothing ever you'd be able to do in my city without my okay.

“You're lucky he sees something in you otherwise we wouldn't be friends, Doll.” 

Always had that same condescending tone as he called me about whatever decision I publicly made. Most of them were good ones; he was literally just a hater. 

“Did good out there today Doll, real good. Eiji and I are real proud of the progress ya making in sectors 7-9 keep that up and maybe I won’t have to berate ya every other day. Don't get too comfortable though Yakato is speaking wi-”

On the rare days I did get a good call he always managed to put his stamp on it. And sometimes even when he talked down on me I sat there and took it with wet panties and bated breath ready to hear him be soft with me again right before he stamped it.

Friends?!? Friends, I wouldn't even bat an eye if he choked tomorrow! In fact, I would be the first in line!  Until he knew exactly what it felt like to have his entire life's work spit on and shredded because of it being work of public relations community service logs. He's greedy and he won’t have me, because that's all it’ll take for him to win. Presenting me to his partner like a Christmas present. Popping champagne while I sit there naked and waiting for orders like all the other sick fucks that follow behind them as they need them.

I don't need them. But I do need him to get the hell out of my car. Maybe that's why I put my pride aside, I tried not to let my tears show and my anger release through my words.

Teeth clenching and eyes lowered into the passenger window, “What do you want Bakugou, why the hell are you following me late at night? You know stalking is a crime, correct?”

“It is if there's proof and your life is endangered. It could be from someone else looking to have a lucky night with a lady walking on the side of the road at 2 am looking like a call girl.” He smiled, put the car in park, and opened his door slowly. Standing over the side of the vehicle like he wanted more, needed it. “Nobodies seen ya in 3 weeks. We all thought that Having to step down from the board made ya yoke. I was hoping it had not.” He said the last part softer but that boyish grin never left.

“ It’s temporary.”

“What?”

“My decision to step down from the board is temporary and if it runs till November I’ll resign and apply again.” I was closer now to the passenger side. I wanted to show him that he didn't own me and that he didn't scare me.

“Always the fighter. Did you not have time to come see us before ya left?”

“I came because Mina said I could have a good time, I left because I was ready to go.” He sucked his teeth hearing my quick retort.

“You're hurting my feelings, thought we were friends?” He slowly rounded the car, stopping in front of the hood to play with the radiator grill.

“YOU and Kirishima are not my friends, were business partners who come together to correct hero society on blue moons-

“Then I’d say we've had more blue moons than the smurfs”

“I'm trying to be serious and professional and you're making it hard for me.”He was in front of me now and I couldn't help but look past his neck. I wasn't strong. I let the media get the best of me and the hero community. I let Bakugou and Kirishima’s backhanded compliments and weird pinning throw me off my game and accept my resignation, no temporary relief of position. He was too close, his collared button down hiding the swirly black ink of his gang insignia. The ring holder chain held a ring with opal on it. I wondered what my ring would look like next to Kirishima's

 “I don't need you rubbing my failures- I lost and because of me the city and its people will be without someone advocating for them, all of them. Someone who cares about them. WHO WANT THE BEST FOR EVERYONE EVEN IF IT MEANS DISMANTLING THE VERY SAME SYSTEM THAT KEEPS THEM SAFE BECAUSE IT ALSO KEEPS OTHERS IN SITUATIONS THAT LEAVE THEM WITHOUT.

The Tears fell and I was finally looking at him. He wasn't smiling anymore. I pushed his chest, again and again, and again. “And you were nowhere to be found, NEITHER OF YOU AND I

 CALLED AND PLEADED AND CALLED AGAIN AND MY SO-CALLED FRIENDS WERE NOWHERE TO BE FOUND.”

He grabbed my arms and pinned them to my side as I cried, into his shirt, into his skin, holding onto the very fabric that held the man that I swear I hated “I know and I’m sorry. Some things were more important at that moment–”

With a croaky voice and a tighter grip, I asked what I always wanted, always needed, needed to know from him.“Am I not enough? Am I not important enough to come to the rescue? Are my problems not satisfactory on your list of important shit that needs to be tended to. What about my feelings?” He hugged me tight and sighed into my hair. “ You won ya know.”

“I didn't wanna win, I wanted to make you work hard, I promise I just wanted to prepare you for what was out there. If I coulda I woulda been on the first flight back to help but I couldn't and were sorry, Doll. Eiji is waiting for us at the house. You want me to drop you home or do you want to stay the night at ours because I swear–”

“I wanna see him too, I’m tired of this runaround. Are we friends, are we enemies, our business partners on the occasion when both sides of the coin retire us to some janky place to drink scotch? Are we pining after each other? I Don't know what we are or how we're gonna make,” I point to the space in between us, “work but I’d like to see where it goes just lessen up all that damn bark. I’m sensitive.”

He pecked the top of my head and opened the passenger door for me. Jogging over to the other side. He threw on some random radio station and put the car in drive.

 “Okay.” 

Please please reblog if you like it so I can get feedback, and find things others like to read so I produce more content! 🥰

[quinloki]

In relation to your rut hc, may I suggest,

Marco

Or the idea that he lets his animal instincts take over and goes feral and then takes care of his lover after (while saying how nice they look 👀)

-🍉

Oh believe me I definitely think about Marco having a knot because of his Zoan, and while I'll probably never write it much myself, I do like the idea of him having a rut.

Especially because I imagine he tries to fight it. Even before he ends up with a steady partner, he's just worried about hurting someone for one, but also he's certain once he gives in he'll never be able to hold back again.

He locks himself away for days when it happens, and then you come along and maybe you're both somewhere where he can't go lock himself away. Out camping, stuck on night guard duty, on a trip of some sort.

He's suffering and you can tell, and you just want to do whatever you can to help. He doesn't want you to go away, but if you could step back and give him some air he can get himself under control he's sure.

You assure him you can take it, even if he wears you out, you trust him not to let anything bad happen to you. He argues, and as politely as you've ever gone back and forth with him, he eventually caves.

Oh I'm too sleepy to do this proper justice now, but know this man finishes at least three times before he starts to prep you. He's flushed down to his shoulders, rutting into a pillow while he works you open and has you whimpering softly beneath him.

It takes three days, and you almost remember a full 24 hours of it all. He's so gentle because he knows it's going to drag on, and he doesn't want to literally rub you raw. You sleep when you can, collapsing tangled up in one another more than once. He makes sure there's plenty of water, and heavy calorie snacks, it's going to be a another day before you can sit down for a proper meal.

You're certain you're going to smell like Marco for the rest of your life by the time it's all over.

[deanwax]

Writer Interview

Cheers for the tags, @autism-purgatory and @the-golden-comet <3

no-presh tag to @dyrewrites and @winterandwords, lets gooo

About Me

When did you first start writing?

I would've cut my teeth in the Neopets roleplay forums around age 11-12, likely didn't start writing standalone fics until age 18-19.

Are the genres/themes you enjoy reading different from the ones you write?

Not really, but also: I'll read literally anything if it's presented as a graphic novel. It's been a useful way to discover new things, and historical graphic novels have been a gateway drug to documentaries and video essays.

Is there an author (or just a fellow writer!) you want to emulate, or one to whom you’re often compared?

I don't really concern myself with emulation these days, but way back I tried to style a novel heavily on the works of Poppy Z Brite. I was too green to understand how to give a gothic horror a point, and "Wailing" fizzled out with not much more than wallowing in edgy misery. I've still never been able to salvage the plot or characters to this day.

Can you tell me a little about your writing space(s)? (Room, coffee shop, desk, etc.)

In order of frequency: lying on my stomach in bed with a heat pack, at my computer desk, hunched up in the corner of a train, being weirdly intense in the bar of a local theatre. So yeah, I do a lot of writing on my phone.

What’s your most effective way to muster up some muse?

I'm actually in the middle of reckoning with my own limitations caused by a chronic pain condition, so I'm more in the camp of "let the muse come to you". I try to check in often, I'd only to smash out a few more notes or paste in some research.

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and places you write about?

No, except Sucks Down Under which is literally set in early 2000s Australiana. For the most part I'm making stuff up freestyle.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing, and if so, do they surprise you at all?

I didn't think there'd be so much symbolic cannibalism when I started out, but here we are.

My Characters

Would you please tell me about your current favorite character? (Current WIP, past WIP, never used, etc.)

Man. Adam "Flicker" Prescott from Wailing was the OG, man. He was supremely socially awkward and couldn't stick up for himself against his trans friend who was too angry about gender to see how cruel they were being. He could see ghosts. Eventually he got separated from his body entirely and became a spirit trapped in the mind of the vampire who killed him. He deserved better.

Which of your characters do you think you’d be friends with in real life?

Flicker could live in the back of my mind if he wanted. I guess he does.

Which of your characters would you dislike the most if you met them?

Setting aside outright villains, I actually would start to avoid Alistair from Impressions of Aire for long stretches of time if I knew him IRL. He's way too socially outgoing, man. That's not my speed. Small doses only.

Tell me about the process of coming up with of one, all, or any of your characters.

The speed at which I can come up with these dudes is too fast to clearly separate the process onto steps. It helps to have a prompt to get the bones down, like a genre or an event that will happen in the story. Then: nyeeeooowwww.

Do you notice any recurring themes/traits among your characters?

Autism.

What’s your reason for writing?

Also autism. Yes, yes, the joy of creation. But also: I am putting the characters through The Situations with wildly different parameters.

Is there a specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating coming from your readers?

Babe, I write original fiction. Any kind of comment at all is a joyous rarity.

How do you want to be thought of by those who read your work? (For example: as a literary genius, or as a writer who “gets” the human condition; as a talented worldbuilder, as a role model, etc.)

A trickster.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Grounding the actions of the story in some kind of reason, or at least a process that can be observed if not clearly understood.

What have you been frequently told your greatest writing strength is by others?

Knack for words.

How do you feel about your own writing? (Answer in whatever way you interpret this question.)

I have loved everything I have ever written.

If you were the last person on earth and knew your writing would never be read by another human, would you still write?

Yes, so I could read it later.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely what you enjoy? If it’s a mix of the two, which holds the most influence?

Any story where I've tried to inject content that would make it popular has hit wall until I've allowed myself to rework it to be as weird as I truly want it to be.

[periwinkla]

You know, whenever I need to lift my spirits, I like to remind myself that I actually almost lost an eye once. And there are few things worse than that for me I reckon- I mean, I guess losing both eyes would be a bit worse, but yeah. Basically: During my very first year of art school, I accidentally punched myself in the eye with an umbrella. Yeah.... right into the eye socket. I had just gotten to an event at art school (a watercolor workshop - would love to give a review, but alas I didn't end up attending), and I was sitting down and putting everything back in my bag. It had been drizzling, just a bit, so I had my umbrella to put back. And well... You know those push-the-button-to-open umbrellas? The ones who shoot up right as you push the button??? Yeah. Accidentally pushed the button as I was putting it back. It shot up. Punched me right into my left eye. And you know, I'm bizarre like that, and didn't emit a sound, I was just kinda. shocked. As I got my bearings, I just left the workshop room and went to the bathroom to assess the damage. I think literally no one noticed. Anyway, I couldn't open my eye very well... and I could only see white, like, completely white. Nothing else. Anyway, eventually I went to ask for help to the receptionist, and later a few of my coursemates eventually noticed, and also one of my professors, which seeing me bawling desperately at the idea of never being able to draw anything ever again, had the brilliance to remind me that 'there are one-eyed artists too, don't worry!' and then 'Also, for future reference, please remember to put your hand on top, like champagne bottles, ya know?' ...I'm not even joking. I mean he meant well, that earned a chuckle even - I have a weird sense of humor and he knew. I think I went through all stages of grief at that moment, although very out of order. First shock, then complete desperation, then anger at myself, and suddenly denial mixed with bargaining and I was like 'yea it's no big deal, I'll just go back home in a bit, no one has to know, my eye doesn't need to know either for that matter, it'll get better this is just a bad dream perhaps and I am being overdramatic'.

Well, the thing is, no matter how much you delude yourself, if you suddenly can't see, you can't very well exit a building and go back home like it's nothing, especially if your home is 2ish hours away... Even if it was just one eye, I wasn't able to open the other one very well, because of the pain. Also, even with the very little bit I could get open before it shot back closed on its own accord, I couldn't see well with the 'good' eye either. Anyway, at some point I realized I had to necessarily phone home, so that my mother could come and get me to my eye doctor (I had one because I had worn glasses till the year before when I got eye surgery). My doctor was miraculously in the area (he has multiple offices so thank the lord he was in that particular area). Tbh I have no idea what hour it was, on account of the fact I couldn't see and check the time, I only know it got to the evening (the event was in the afternoon). My doctor, my savior bless his soul, received us at the office at his apartment (I think it wasn't even a work day for him, but I dunno) checked the eye, gave me medicine right there on the spot, gave me other stuff for me to take at home and told me to let him know how I would be doing until a checkup we scheduled. At the checkup a few days after, he told me my eye looked greenish when he examined it the first time (tbh he didn’t appear to be worried about that fact but to be fair I couldn’t see so I can’t assess his bluffing skills to well) but he didn't tell me because he knew I would panic. Good call, he knows me too well. Anyway that very evening/night I was already doing much better. Not perfect, still had a white haze, but the pain had mostly subsided (suppose it was the medicine he gave me) and could do with at least the good eye open. It was good enough that I distinctly remember playing Pokémon UltraSun to distract myself and doing the wormhole minigame (I swear I remember the most useless facts about that day like it was yesterday). Couldn’t read a thing though. The day after, I was drawing again, my eyesight had gotten mostly alright and I just had some difficulty opening it completely on account of the black eye I got (it was. a very very black eye. goth makeup levels. A few days later, a classmate joked saying ‘you could say you got into a fist fight!’ ...I mean I kinda did. With an umbrella though. And the opponent wasn’t the umbrella really but my carelessness.) Anyway....point is… When you almost disable yourself for life of the organ you most care about because you're a careless dum-dum it puts things into perspective. I mean... I need to count my blessings, let’s be honest. If my doctor hadn't been in the area that day, I most certainly would be partially blind today/have very bad eyesight. I haven't owned any push-the-button umbrellas since then. Just to be safe, you know. As for champagne bottles, I don't drink, so there's no risk. Thanks for the warning though, teach. Moral of the story: Don't use push-the-button umbrellas.

[lemon-shortbread]

I want to see myself as this stoic dude that would not be emotional or beg for attention except I'm VERY sure that I would be sending millions of texts to my partner or the parent to my unborn nugget. I would not be able to keep myself from complaining I don't get enough attention as I'm growing a whole other being in my womb or that I need to have their hands touching my bump at all times. Not because I need their love, but the baby needs to know the touch of their other parent.

Though when they're coming up behind me for a hug I'll make sure to move their hands to my belly to rub around. Or when we're in bed and they're clearly asleep before me they'll wake up to find me buried against their chest with my belly pressed against theirs. I may act like emotions are not my thing and I'm this hard-core pregnant person I know that I'll be doing those things to show my want for affection. I'm bad at explaining myself or my needs so there will be a lot of indirect things to be done in order to get attention I want.

Omfg dude you're literally adorable wtf

I think the idea of somebody pregnant who doesnt want to admit that they want attention is so fucking cute. You moody about not getting enough belly rubs or cuddles im sure would be cute, of course its just because the lil nugget missed them is all! I think it'd be really sweet if your partner eventually caught on to all the little hints and indirect cues, and just knowingly giving you attention, rubs, or affection when they happen.

Like they're doing something, and you walk up, maybe to tell them something, and they absentmindly just default to rubbing or holding your bump while you talk since it's probably something you wanted anyway

[sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare]

A Poet Could Not But Be Gay — part 2

Part 1

Pairing: college!au Ellie Williams x f!reader

summary: You and Ellie text after you like her post and see each other in class again. You talk to each other, slowly growing closer.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: mutual pining, reader has no rizz, anxiety, English class

a/n: M (minors and men) DNI, please! Y'all I can't believe you guys gave me 34 notes on my first-ever fic!!! I'm literally on top of the world and it really motivated me to write another chapter so here it is!! 😁

-------------------------------------

Ellie Williams: Hey stalker (;

You were frozen. Your breath had caught in your throat and you felt your entire body burning up as though you'd throw up at any second. Your phone screen had gone black by then and you only had time to blink before another notification came in.

Ellie Williams added you as a friend.

Finally, you were able to breathe. What the fuck is happening!? you thought. She has to be playing some kind of prank on me 'cause no one should be this cool about a random girl like a — how old was it? 5-week-old picture!

You decided that the best thing to do was to respond. She already knew you were online and you would only look more guilty if you ignored her. Ellie had caught you red-handed, sure, but she didn't need to know why you were looking her up. You started typing, probably taking way longer than you should to write a simple text.

you: hey! sorry i was just struggling with the homework and youre the only person i knew from that class so i looked you up

you: how are you handling the last minute assignment she sent us?

Really? A double text seconds after I was caught stalking her? I'm fucking dead. Every second that passed by felt like an hour. You were biting your nails, staring at the screen impatiently. She hadn't even seen it yet and you felt like she was judging you through the phone. After one minute, she opened the chat and started typing. Looking at those three taunting dots, you couldn't help but imagine all the texts she could be writing. Nightmarish thoughts were flying through your brain when her text finally appeared.

Ellie Williams: Oh fuck I hadn't even seen that email! What kind of psychopath of a teacher sends an assignment at 6pm?

You let out a relieved sigh, thankful she hadn't asked any questions regarding your lie. Your shaking thumbs started typing but you received another text.

Ellie Williams: And who even has a favourite poem to write 500 words about

Ellie Williams: Well you definitely do

You had to read that twice. She remembers about my poem. Your small smile grew into a grin, and the little exhale from your nose grew into a fit of giggles. You rolled onto your back before remembering you had to answer her.

you: im glad i was able to tell you about the assignment! and yeah i have a favourite poem and i absolutely LOVE telling people about it but i know how scatterbrained i can be so idk if ill be able to make sense

The two of you texted back and forth for a few minutes but your shyness held you back and your conversation eventually dwindled. After several minutes of radio silence on both ends, your phone vibrated again.

Ellie Williams: Well I'm gonna start writing that paper but I'll see you on Wednesday!

you: good luck with that!

you: cant wait to see you again :)

You held your breath, frightened by your boldness.

Ellie Williams: Don't miss me too much (;

You honestly thought you could have died at that moment. And there was that winking face again. You couldn't believe your clumsy mistake had led you to have an actual conversation! Outside of school! Sure it was mainly about your shared class but now it felt more personal. She wasn't just "Ellie, the hot girl from my poetry class" anymore. She was Ellie Williams, the charming girl you'd met in class and befriended and fell in love with and moved in with and married and — ok now. I shouldn't get ahead of myself. I don't even know her favourite colour yet. I don't even know if she likes girls, let alone me!

You decided that the best thing for you to do now was to focus on your assignment. It wouldn't take very long but at least it would keep your mind occupied for a little while.

Though the poem was about the beauty of nature and all it has to offer, you couldn't help but relate every verse to Ellie.

"they / Out-did the sparkling waves in glee" Ellie outdoes everyone and everything. There was not a single thing you could think of that you would rather look at than Ellie. There was no sound you'd rather hear than her laugh and no word you'd rather read than hers. I'm so fucking gay, it's ridiculous, you thought.

Some verses you felt rather poetic about, while others felt like they were describing the slight gay panic you'd had upon first seeing her, "I gazed — and gazed — but little thought". That's exactly how you'd felt. You'd stared at her sheer beauty and focused on nothing but her. The only thing you could remember from your time staring at her was the warmth that had formed in your belly and the tingling in your face.

You had known this girl for barely 8 hours and you could already see her in everything. Fuck, this is gonna hurt.

-------------------------------------

Tuesday was somewhat uneventful. You'd been awoken by your alarm once again and had rolled over to check your phone. You were barely awake when you saw that Ellie had changed your name on messenger to "y/n🌸". Has she been thinking about me? you thought with a grin plastered to your face. Before you had time to overthink, you quickly changed her name to "Ellie 😉".

Neither of you texted the other again until Wednesday. It was a cool and cloudy day meaning everything had grey undertones and you refused to let yourself darken because of some stupid clouds. That's why you chose to wear your long sleeve, bright yellow shirt underneath short, green overalls.

The sky might be grey and sad but I'm looking like a ray of fucking sunshine! you told yourself in the mirror. The colour you wore made you feel invincible, as though you could conquer the world and make it bright again.

Eventually, after an interminable lecture, you were sat at your seat in your and Ellie's shared class, awaiting the girl herself. To busy yourself, you started taking out your books and laptop, putting your pens neatly out onto your side of the desk. While you were distracted, Ellie walked into the class.

Ellie's thoughts

Ellie's mind was racing, trying to figure out what to say to you when she saw you. She knew she would say hi; that was a given. But what then? She didn't want to just be an acquaintance to you. She wanted to be on your mind as much as you were on hers, which was constantly. Dreams of you consumed her nights which she loved until she woke up and realized you had barely talked to each other.

When she walked into the classroom, she nearly froze in the doorframe. Of course, she thought, on a gross day like this, she has to look like a ray of fucking sunshine. It was as though you were trying to make her fall head over heels for you.

When she started walking normally again, your head popped up and a genuine smile graced your lips. Ellie felt like the Earth had stopped spinning and smiled back with false confidence. She sat down next to you and told you her scripted, "Hi," in her usual, honeyed voice, adding an improvised, "how you doing?", proud she hadn't stumbled over her words.

"Hi," you answered, voice quieter than hers, "I'm doing pretty good. I actually finished the assignment on time, so the semester's off to a good start!" you said with a laugh.

Ellie laughed back, happy you had initiated a topic so she would get to keep talking with you. "Wow! Three whole days in and no late assignments yet! I'm extremely impressed." she replied, the glee evident in her tone.

You giggled and said, "You should be!"

There was a beat of silence and she was scared you had run your conversation to its course before it had even started. Then you surprised her by asking, "How have you been?"

She looked up at you, taking a few seconds to admire every line and curve in your face. "Oh, you know," she said, "I've been busier now that school started up again but I've been good." She paused for a second and continued, "I haven't been too busy to figure it out though."

A smile crept onto your face and she thanked her lucky stars that she'd kept talking. "Figure what out?" you asked.

With slightly shaking hands she hoped you wouldn't notice, she reached out to your arm and pushed up the sleeve of your shirt to reveal the tattoo you'd shown her. "This," she said looking back up, her eyes boring into yours, "It's Wordsworth right?" You nod and she goes on, "That's a sick name for a poet. I read the poem and I have to say, you've got some good taste, pretty girl." The name just slipped out of her mouth. Her eyes widened and she noticed your smile falter. She pulled away from your arm.

She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure but you spoke before she could, "I feel like with a name like that, he couldn't really go into any other profession, you know." you laughed dryly, clearly trying to ease the tension.

She laughed the same dry laugh and let out a quiet, "Yeah, he had to go into writing."

Luckily, your awkward moment only lasted a short time and Ellie was saved from any further embarrassment as your professor began her lecture.

About 30 minutes into the lecture, Ellie was flipping the pages of her textbook like crazy, trying to find the poem the class was discussing. She figured you had noticed her struggling because you tapped her on the arm and whispered the page number. She thanked you and started flipping to that page. In doing so, however, a page managed to slice through her skin, causing her to flinch and immediately suck on her cut.

She was cursing the paper when you tapped her arm again. She turned to you, finger still between her lips. You gave her a small smile and lifted something in your hand, "Do you need a bandaid?" you whispered. How could she say no when you were looking at her like that, big doe eyes full of concern.

She took her finger out of her mouth and agreed with a low, "Sure". Before she could do anything else, you grabbed her hand and wrapped the bandaid around her injured finger. Ellie could only stare at you, marveling at the care you gave to such a minor cut. "Thanks, y/n" she whispered. She thought she may have caught a glimpse of a blush on your cheeks but you had turned your head too quickly for her to tell for sure.

When she picked up her pen, she got her first good look at what you'd wrapped around her finger and laughed to herself. Of fucking course this personified beam of sunlight would carry around flower bandaids. I'm never taking this off. she thought as she admired her finger.

Back to your thoughts

You were looking up front but your mind was nowhere near whatever subject the professor was talking about. I touched Ellie! you though. Not the other way around! I touched her arm and then her hand! I'm gonna pass out. You were ecstatic, to say the least. You couldn't wait to call Taylor and tell her everything that happened during this second class with Ellie.

Soon enough, the class ended and you started packing your books. You got up, still giddy from excitement, and got ready to say goodbye to Ellie. She stood up after a few moments and spoke first, "So I was thinking," she said, her usual confidence seemingly vanished, "if you wanted to study or do assignments for this class, I'm free in the afternoon on Thursdays. We could meet in the library if you want. Or not even necessarily for this class, like, we could study for any class together if that was something you were interested in."

You gave her a quick open-mouthed smile. "Yeah!" you beamed, "Yeah that definitely sounds good. I know a secret spot in the library nobody ever goes to so we won't even need to worry about other people."

"Sounds great. I'll see you tomorrow then."

You both hesitated a little before moving to leave the classroom, and then again in the hallway, not sure of where the other was going. Seemingly amused by this, judging by the smirk on her face, Ellie put her hand on the small of your back, guided you in the direction you'd been headed in, and walked backward in the opposite direction.

"Bye, pretty girl!"

-------------------------------------

Part 3

a/n: I got a little carried away in this one... Did you see how much touching there was! Whoo, that was borderline smut! But I told you there would be more talking! Also, I am obsessed with Romantic poetry, specifically William Wordsworth so sorry if there was too much of him in this chapter but I really love his work! You guys should all read "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud". It's a really short poem that may or may not have made me shed a tear. Anyway, leave any ideas you have for this story in the comments! I can't wait to see what you think!!

ps: lemme know if you wanna get tagged in the next one!

tags: @lonelyfooryouonly

[graysonshmayson]

pairing - none

summary - basically dick has a secret reddit account where he vagues in the AITA forum about his family issues. inspired by tim's reddit chronicles by @batposts but they deleted their account :( RIP i'll love u forever, spleen guy

warnings - no warnings apply

wordcount - 6,826

a/n- very little editing but fun i promise. check out the whole thing on ao3! or read it on here. i guess.

AITA for resenting my little brother?

So first, a little background. I (M19) was taken in (not ever legally adopted, but that's another story) when I was 9 by my dad (M38) after my parents died. His parents also died when he was a kid, so he was able to help me a lot with my anger issues after it happened and find my place in the world. One of the main ways he did that was by letting me help with the family business. He initially didn’t want me involved because I was too young, but I was stubborn and made a whole position for myself that I worked really hard for. I’d like to think that eventually, he saw me not just as a son, but as a partner. But by the time I was 18, I felt like he was far too controlling and still saw me as a kid. I felt that I wasn’t respected as an equal, and it started to cause a bunch of fights until eventually I had enough and left. I moved in with some friends and we started our own business. I completely reinvented myself just to stop getting associated with him and make a name for my own. 

We didn’t talk for a long time, until I finally caved and started helping out with family stuff here and there, but it's still tense. Then, not even a YEAR after I left, I went back to the house and found a random child in the home. He adopted another kid (who literally looks like me too?) without asking or even telling me. I know it's not like I need to give him permission to adopt a child, but I wish he’d at least talked to me about it, you know? But by the time I met the kid, J (M10), the paperwork had already been finalized and I had a little brother. The real kicker is that he had taken my position in the family business. The one that I made myself to help mourn the loss of my murdered parents? Anyway, so my dad, who has the emotional intelligence of packing peanuts, barely said anything about my new brother. No apologies for replacing him in my position or anything. He just explained J’s background which is, admittedly, rough. And I really feel bad for not liking him because he’s a good kid and he really does look up to me and wants to spend time with me as brothers, but every time I see him I can’t help but be reminded by how my dad replaced me in business and in his life. I was even told that my dad almost gave him my old room (we’re very well off and have plenty of extra rooms). I’m not exactly mad at the kid, but so many of his little comments about what my dad does with him that he didn’t want to do with me hurts. Am I the asshole?

[hyenahunt]

Rouge & Ruby: Eventual Affection - 4

Writer: Umeda Chitose

Season: Winter

Characters: Hiyori, Jun, Ibara, Nagisa

Proofreading: royalquintet (JP) & Skyress (ENG)

Translation: Mirei (Adam) & hyenahunt (Eve)

Jun: L-O-V-E, love! You couldn't have achieved everything you've done without it... that's what I think.

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Hiyori: Oh, I know what it is! It looks just like that thing on our Chocolat Fes stage...!

Jun: Right, that's it!

Actually, the more I look at it, the more it seems exactly the same... Didja do that on purpose?

Ibara: … Do you think it turned out this way by coincidence?

Hiyori: Dear me~ I was so looking forward to trying them, but now that I see the four of them sitting together like this, I can't quite bear to!

Nagisa: …Then, how about we eat one box together instead of having one box each?

Hiyori: A splendid idea as always, Nagisa-kun! Well then, I'll have this one for myself… ♪

Nagisa: … How does it taste? Is it the same as the one I ate before?

Ibara: Yes. Given that one has already been approved by Your Excellency, I believed it would be fine to proceed as-is.

Jun: Just when did you get to try a sample, Nagi-senpai? C'mon, Ibara, you gotta invite us for that kinda thing too.

Ibara: Our schedules just didn’t line up …

Hiyori: Some excuse that is! In case you forgot, you literally called me in the middle of the night the other time...

Jun: What for?

Hiyori: Oh, did I not tell you how Ibara was already hard at work?

He called me to ask if I knew any jewellers on good terms with my family, and if I could introduce him to them. As you know, a request for help from Ibara is just so astronomically rare!

Hiyori: And that's why I introduced him to people experienced both in the jewel trade as well as jewellery design...

But to think that even the box looks like something right out of a jewellery shop... That was thanks to them, was it?

Ibara: There were quite a lot of difficulties since my request was a bit sudden…

However, their expertise helped us produce both a chocolate and a container that are up to our standards… ♪

Jun: Whoa, how did you find the time for all that?

Ibara: It was quite hard work, you know. I had to make use of nearly every connection I have, including His Highness himself, all while doing everything I could to keep costs down…

I thought of how it would appeal to our fans, or even those who would only catch a single glimpse of us at Chocolat Fes.

It truly was hard work creating a product that will give people a strong urge to make a purchase.

Nagisa: … He said hard work twice.

Ibara: It was definitely hard work, but I didn't think of it as labour. There's no other way I can describe it.

The chocolate's quality turned out very high, so I ended up wanting to create a new unit visual to match the design…

I had to squeeze the photoshoot into everyone’s schedules too, so the hard work also extended towards all of you.

Jun: You went as far as to ask Ohii-san's help, and even wanted to do so much extra for it...

You seriously put your whole heart into this...

Hiyori: Right. Even for someone like Ibara, it must have been unbelievably hard work preparing everything to this extent.

I did find myself wondering if we'd actually manage to pull all this off.

It seems that this time around you were able to completely avoid it, but were you ever tempted to use COMP's budget for this?

Ibara: I made the decision to take total ownership of this project; it will be planned and implemented by me, for Eden.

There is significance to doing it with my own power. Plus, I couldn't accept it if I didn't. I also wished to convince you all by doing it this way.

Jun: …

Ibara: This is the sort of the victory that I seek.

Bringing Eden—and myself—to the top with my own two hands… was both my desire and ambition. I had already forgotten about that budget long ago.

Of course, I have every intention to make full use of the remaining COMP budget in the future! Ahahaha ⁠☆

Hiyori: Ah, what a shame. It would've sounded so good without that last part.

Nagisa: … But, you do agree that Ibara was a good kid right?

Jun: …Come to think of it, you take on so much by yourself all for the sake of Eden and our fans.

But even then, you say you don't consider it "labour".

Wouldn't you say that's your way of showing love, Ibara?

Ibara: …What was that?

Jun: L-O-V-E, love! You couldn't have achieved everything you've done without it... that's what I think.

Ibara: …

… No, no, no. It can't be love.

Nagisa: … Quiz time. Could this be Ibara being a little embarrassed? Press O for Yes or X for No.

Hiyori: Yes is the only possible answer, of course! Just look at how flustered he is!

Ibara: Both of you! I'm not your fun little quiz topic!

Jun: Haha. The more worked up you get, the more you'll get teased for it, y'know?

So why don't you just call it "love", and leave it at that?

Valentine's Day is the victory that you've been aiming for, and no matter how you look at it, it's the Day of Love itself... ♪

[ ☆ ]

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[mooifyourecows]

What typically gives you inspiration to write your stories? How do they become fully developed concepts after you gat hit with inspiration?

I'll get inspiration from anything tbh. Dreams, videogames, movies, tv shows, books, other fics, songs, something i saw at the grocery store, etc. Sometimes I just have a character or relationship dynamic that i want to write and build around that.

I'll think up a new story idea almost every other week. Not all of them become something though lol some of them are just a flash in a pan idea that i quickly forget about/abandon because i just can't really sink my teeth into it, you know?

When i do have an idea that i want to pursue, it slowly grows into fully developed concepts over the course of weeks or months. I keep notes in my phone and add to them when ideas come to me. Eventually, when the story is starting to hold water, I'll make a playlist for it because having that musical connection really helps me develop even more of the story/character/mood. I've changed whole story ideas because the playlist i put together had a different vibe from my original plan haha it's VERY vital to my creation process. which is why everyone should listen to my story playlists because THEY'RE IMPORTANT AND REALLY DRIVE HOME THE VIBE! (ehhh some of them are more important than others. some are mostly for my own benefit, having certain music playing while i'm writing to keep the mood/voice)(but still)(pls like my playlists, i put a lot of effort into them)

I'm not the type of writer who can get an idea and then just write it. (if those types of writers even exist. do they exist?) I really take my time planning stuff out. I have several stories/story ideas that I've been consistently thinking up and jotting down notes on for literal years. I think of a lot of really great stuff when i give myself the time to do it. And I'd miss out on absolute gold if I just sat down and wrote them the instant I had enough to make a story.

Some stories do grab me immediately though. Like recently I got an idea for a new DaiSuga fic and I've very excitedly spat out 12k words in the past two-ish weeks. In cases like this, the story just fleshes itself out so perfectly that I can't help but get it out of my head. I might hit a block on it soon and have to put it on the backburner until I figure out a way around it, but for now, I'm just putting whatever I can onto the page, regardless of how good it is.

And a lot of the time, it's garbage, you know? I just write total trash. Boring dialogue, zero description, scenes that cut off in the middle because I don't know how to progress to the next one, etc. Most of my stories are in this horrible Pre-Frankenstein state where it's just pieces and parts I have to figure out how to sew together and shoot some life into them so they move the way I want them to. And sometimes that takes a long time to accomplish, so they just kinda sit in my wip folder, waiting for me to get the sudden motivation to dust them off and fix them up. (or on occasion, restart from page one)

I'm really not super organized or professional or anything. I just think things and I write them down so I don't forget. Somehow they manage to fit together into something people want to read. It helps that I'm constantly watching movies/TV or reading. Once you get a really good feel of how stories of all different genres work, you can make your own. And I can't really say for sure how good of a writer I am, I definitely don't think I'm on the same level as a lot of writers that I've read, both in fandom and in original fiction. I can see how my vocabulary, grammar, description, etc doesn't hold up to those people. But if there's one thing I know I can do, and feel confident in my ability to do, it's telling a story.

I may not be able to describe a setting but boy howdy can I tell a story 🫵

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for wanting to keep my best friend safe?

Okay so this is a long story, so I'll summarize the beginning of it. Basically me (M, 10) and my best friend F (F, 5) were in a dangerous place so we had to run away to somewhere where neither of us would be in danger. That place didn't end up working out, so we ended up moving to an asylum instead. Only problem is, F didn't actually have anything "wrong" with her, so I had her do something to look insane so they'd be convinced. That ended up working, so we've been able to stay there for quite some time now. Eventually, the object I was tied to (oh yeah, I'm a ghost by the way, forgot to mention that) found its way back to us, so now everything was perfect.

Or at least, I THOUGHT it was, but something was kind of off. Every time F would show someone the object I was tied to (it was a handheld game system, if that matters), they would be able to see me. My real form is pretty terrifying to say the least, so they'd get freaked out and something bad would happen to them because of it. It didn't really matter to me, though, because F was all I needed, but she seemed kinda down about that whole thing despite still having me.

Anyway, things are kind of up and down until N (F, 23) shows up. N doesn't even work here, she's just some reporter getting all up in our business. She gets assigned by one of the higher-ups to look after F, and in exchange, she gets to interview her about stuff. Sounds harmless, right? Well, they end up getting along really well, almost too much so. Maybe to the point where she almost feels like a mother to her. The worst part is, she REFUSES to be shown the game system, so she's convinced for a full 4 days that I'm just some imaginary friend of hers. F seems really happy ever since she came around, though, so I can't bring myself to tell her how I really feel about N.

I spend that time trying my hardest to convince N I exist, but she's just so fucking DENSE. She won't believe in me, no matter how many signs I give her. So I decided to MAKE her believe in me.

That night, one of the kids dies in his sleep, so the next morning I make a little show of destroying his corpse in front of N. I know that sounds bad, but I literally had no other choice, and TECHNICALLY I never killed anyone. I just made N think I did for an important reason that will come later. Anyway, it works, and she with everyone else runs away, leaving me and F in our new home together. The problem is, the very next day, N COMES BACK and practically DRAGS F out of the building. I try to stop her, but I can’t. She smashes my game system against the side of the building and drives off with her. (Somehow I'm still here, and that might be because my friendship with F became stronger than my ties with the game.)

I manage to hang onto the car long enough to follow the two of them back to her place. At this point, I've had enough of people like N getting into our business thinking they can "save" F from her situation. That's what she has me for. We don't need anyone else. So I make N write it all down: her experiences there, and with me. This is why I had her think I killed people, so she'd warn everyone about the "monster" I am, and they'd know to stay away from me and F.

It's really bittersweet, because on one hand, the time I spent with F was the best time I'd ever spent. With the little I know about myself when I was alive, I know I never felt this fulfilled until I met her. We had so much fun together. But as the time passed, F became so sad. When N showed up, it was like she WANTED her to drag her away from that place. With all the stuff I did for the sake of keeping her out of harm's way, I can't help but feel like an asshole. Was what I did in the end worth it, or am I too far gone?

[bada-bang-bada-bastarrd]

Life update / vent under the cut

Trigger warnings for depression, period mentions, etc

Hey everyone. Lately I have not been doing so hot. I just up and quit my job today and my life is a shit show. I'm planning on moving in with my boyfriend soon and it's not going to be easy. He lives an hour away from me, which means I'll be an hour away from everything I once knew. Yes I know I can visit or call my family, but it will still be hard to adjust.

Why I quit my job today was a matter of me not being able to tolerate the way they treat me. I was overwhelmed and overworked today and they basically told me to deal with it. I needed help bringing carts in but they refused to get anyone to help. I bust my ass every single day I'm there and they don't recognize me for it at all.

They'll give shout-out cards to people who do mediocre things, like help a customer with a sale or help lift a pallet. I don't get any of that for any of my hard work, and it does a number on my self esteem. It makes me feel worthless in my own workplace, despite the fact that I used to love working there.

Luckily I have found other means of employment, and I'll hopefully start soon, but it's up where my boyfriend lives and there's no guarantee I'll get the job. Next, I just entered a new counseling facility and need refills on my medication. My one med, clonidine, is what I use to sleep. Without it, I literally cannot sleep.

However, since I'm new, i have to wait for a referral to the doctor there from my therapist. The front desk said they'd call me once they got the all-clear, but it still worries me because I don't want to run out of pills. Believe me when I say I turn into quite the bitch when I don't get any sleep.

Then my antidepressants aren't doing anything for me either. Hell, today has been enough of an emotional rollercoaster --- I had a sudden wave of depression wash over me before I clocked in that lasted for about two hours. I couldn't find the effort to smile, act friendly towards customers, or even talk today. It was that bad.

It cleared up eventually, but it was replaced by frustration from my stressful workload. I was the only lot attendant at the store today, and I had to be a thousand places at once. After my frustration cleared up, it was replaced with depression again. I'm even depressed as I write this.

I tried playing my bass to hopefully cheer myself up, but that did very little to help. In fact I didn't get very much joy out of it at all, which usually never ever happens. Not only do I have to worry about my pills, but I'm out of overnight pads as well, and I had cramps so bad yesterday they made me feel nauseous.

My birth control patches are honestly doing more harm than help. They do prevent me from getting pregnant, yes, but they also increase the frequency and severity of my mood swings and the frequency and severity of my cramps. This is because they're a hormone based treatment. I almost cried from the pain I was in yesterday because I thought I was dying.

Right now I'm on Lexapro for my depression. It does not help. The thing that frustrates me is that I don't want to go through medication after medication, only for it to not work. It truly makes me feel hopeless when it doesn't work, because I worry that my depression cannot be treated.

My depression makes me feel like I'm trapped in a shell, inside my own head, with no clear way to get out. With all the stress in my life right now, it only gets worse. I almost didn't eat dinner tonight it was so bad. It's heartbreaking to experience, because I give my brain life, a body --- and it tells me to kill myself.

In fact, today at work, my brain told me to hang myself. That no one would miss me if I killed myself right now. But my boyfriend, whom I love and care about very much, would. It's very heartbreaking to have a brain that doesn't love you back.

A brain that wants you to do horrible horrible things to yourself. Cut yourself. Scratch yourself. Stab yourself. Drink yourself to death. Die of an overdose. Run into oncoming traffic. Starve yourself. It doesn't want you to accomplish anything by doing any of this, it just wants you to ruin yourself more so it can find new ways to torture and belittle you.

Honestly if I make it past next week at this rate I will be surprised. I feel like nothing will help me and that I will, inevitably, off myself one day. Don't get me wrong, I have family and friends who love me so. But it's just so hard to stay alive when your life is falling apart.