#nothing will please everyone but isn't it easier not to hate so much?

[jonnywaistcoat]

Hey, Horrormaster Sims. I have a wildly different question that barely relates to TMA (Sorry about that) but its about your own process. Please, if you could, can you tell me how your first drafts made you feel? I'm on the fence about writing my own thing (not a podcast, and again, not Magnus related, though I have a million little aus for that delightful tragedy you wrote, thank you for that!) But I'm discouraged by the collective notion that first drafts are always terrible, because there's no ... examples I can solidly use to help the dumb anxiety beast in my brain that tells me everyone who is in any way popular popped out a golden turd and not, well, you know. One of my friends said 'Oh I bet Jonathan Sims's first draft was nothing like what he wanted' and I got the bright idea to just. Send you an ask, since you're trapped on this hellsite like I am. Anyway, thanks for reading this (if you do) and if you'd rather ask it privately, I am cool with that. Alternatively, you're a hella busy man with Protocol (you and Alex are making me rabid, i hope you know) and you can just ignore this! Cheers, man, and good words.

To my mind all writing advice, especially stuff that's dispensed as truisms (like "first drafts are always garbage") are only useful inasmuch as such advice prompts you to pay attention to how you write best: what helps your workflow, what inspires you, what keeps you going through the rough bits. There are as many different ways to write (and write well) as there are people who write and so always consider this sort of thing a jumping off point to try out or keep in mind as you gradually figure out your own ways of writing.

On first drafts specifically, I think the wisdom "all first drafts are bad" is a bit of unhelpful oversimplification of the fact that, deadlines notwithstanding, no piece of writing goes out until you decide its ready, so don't get too hung up on your first draft of a thing, because a lot of writers find it much easier to edit a complete work than to try and redraft as they go. It's also important to not let perfectionism or the fact your initial draft isn't coming out exactly how you want stop you from actually finishing the thing, as it's always better to have something decent and done than to have something perfect and abandoned.

But the idea of a "first draft" is also kind of a fluid one. The "first draft" you submit to someone who's commissioned you will probably be one you've already done a bunch of tweaks and edits to, as opposed to the "first draft" you pump out in a frenzy in an over-caffeinated weekend. For my part, my first drafts tend to end up a bit more polished than most, because I'm in the habit of reading my sentences out loud as I write them (a habit picked up from years of audio writing) so I'll often write and re-write a particular sentence or paragraph a few times to get the rhythm right before moving to the next one. This means my first drafts tend to take longer, but are a bit less messy. I'm also a big-time planner and pretty good at sticking to the structures I lay out so, again, tend to front load a lot of stuff so I get a better but slower first draft.

At the end of the day, though, the important thing is to get in your head about it in a good way (How do I write best? what helps me make writing I enjoy and value? What keeps me motivated?) and not in a bad way (What if it's not good enough? What if everyone hates it? What if it doesn't make sense?) so that you actually get it done.

As for how my first drafts made me feel? Terrible, every one of 'em No idea if that's reflective of their quality, though, tbh - I hate reading my own writing until I've had a chance to forget it's mine (I can only ever see the flaws). I suppose there's theoretically a none-zero chance they were pure fragments of True Art and creative perfection, but Alex's editing notes make that seem unlikely.

[thetriumphantpanda]

sharing is caring | joel & tommy miller

Summary | If there was one thing no-one really prepared you for when you got pregnant, it was the increase in your sex drive. Six months in and you're more frustrated than ever that something just isn't scratching the itch. You know exactly how to fix it, turns out Tommy does too - if only you'd asked about this three months ago.

Warnings | Pregnancy sex, descriptions of a pregnant body, oral sex (f receiving), masterbation (m), Unprotected PiV sex (Even if you're pregnant, STDs exist folks), creampie, Tommy getting cucked because he loves it more than anything, Joel just being.... Joel.

Word Count | 2.9k

Authors Note | You didn't think Joel was just going to disappear did you? Of course he wasn't. I know that pregnancy sex and this whole trope isn't for everyone, but I hope that I've managed to do it in a way that is still sexy and hot and has you all still loving our little threesome! Big disclaimer that I've never been pregnant, so the accuracy of this might be.... off, please forgive me. We've got one more part after this and I still cannot believe how many of you are still here for this little story. I appreciate all the love you've given me on this so far and I just hope you love the way this ends (When I share it with you), as much as I do! As always, if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or popping into my ask with some love. If you'd like to support me by leaving a tip, you can do so here on my Ko-Fi (But as I always say, no pressure!)

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“Fuck, Tommy, holy shit.” 

Your head is thrown back on the pillow as your hips rock to meet his, your hand working hard to try and bring yourself as close to the edge as Tommy is right now. It’s been six months of a sex drive that’s been through the roof and six months of nothing working to satisfy that. Tommy had always been diligent lover, right from the very beginning, you’d always been satisfied, but there was something that just wasn’t working, and it had all begun when your stomach had started to swell. 

It had nothing to do with hating your body – if anything, seeing what it was doing, carrying a creating an entire other human, made you love it even more – you could spend hours running your hands over the swell of your stomach, even when your child would kick or move about and your skin would contort in ways you didn’t know possible, all you could do was watch in awe. No, it had nothing to do with that, and everything to do with the fact you were craving something, someone, you probably shouldn’t. 

In the past month, though it killed you to admit it, you’d started faking your orgasms. Something you’d never had to do in your time with Tommy, but that was probably easier than coming clean about the fact that you wanted Joel. No. You needed him. The combination of these two men, in your mind, was the only thing you could think that would help – the eyes of your love on you as his brother fucked you into another dimension. But how the fuck do you even ask for that?

When all is said and done that evening, and Tommy is softly snoring behind you with his hands resting on your belly, you run through every possible way that you might ask him if he’ll let Joel join you again. It had been incredibly normal between the three of you – you’d fallen back into the relationships you’d had before this whole thing started – Joel seemingly nothing but the loving brother-in-law he’d always been, and two brothers who certainly hadn’t been sharing you between themselves. It was a relief, that you could all go back to your old roles, but you knew Joel wanted more. Every time you’d see him, you’d watch his eyes on your swelling stomach, eyes that would darken when they met your own, with nothing but wanting for you. You knew he would do anything for you, you just had to ask. 

“Can I ask you something?” You pluck up the courage one evening when Tommy is massaging your ankles to try and get the swelling to subside. 

“Course you can.” He comments, his eyes never leaving the sports coverage on the TV in front of him. 

“Promise you won’t get mad?” You’re biting at the corner of one of your nails, worried that you might just be about to ruin everything good you’ve ever had. 

You watch, puzzled, as a smirk appears on Tommy’s face, his hands still working to relieve the aches at your ankles, “What the hell are you smirking for?” You ask. 

“Just think I know what you’re gonna ask for, is all.” 

“Go on then, smartass,” You offer, “What am I going to ask for?” 

“You want Joel, right?” 

What the fuck? How the fuck did he know? Your shock and surprise that he knew exactly what was on your mind must show on your face because he’s chuckling. 

“You’re not mad?” You ask. 

“No sugar, I am not mad,” He smiles, “He did a big thing for us,” He pauses to put a hand on your belly, “I’d be dumb as rocks to think that after all this there wasn’t some kind of connection between you both and that’s okay,” He leans over and presses a soft kiss to your lips, “I know you love me, but if you need him to help then all you had to do was ask.” 

"I just feel guilty," You admit, "That we're doing this together," You rest a hand on your tummy where a foot has just kicked, "And I can't stop thinking about how good it feels when you're both there."

"You don't have to feel guilty," He reassures, "He's as much involved as you or I sugar, and it's okay to ask for what you want, I promise."

“I still want you to be there,” You speak softly, taking hold of his hand, “And you’re sure you’re okay with this?” 

“Don’t worry your pretty head about it, sweetheart,” He smiles, and you can tell it’s genuine, “Leave it with me and I’ll make sure you get what you want.” 

It doesn’t take long for Tommy to make good on his promise. Within the week, you’re led on your bed, trying to relieve the ache in your back for a little bit, when that familiar of knocks at the door rings through the house. You stay horizontal for a while, mind thinking back to all the times you’d done this before. This time you know it has nothing to do with being a means to an end, and everything about you being able to enjoy yourself, and that’s thrilling more than anything else. 

You push yourself up on your hands, leaning back on them slightly, when you can hear Tommy and Joel coming up the stairs. You’re dressed in your usual silk robe. The burgeoning bump in front of you means even if you tie it, it doesn’t fit properly anymore, so you’ve got the most unsexy pair of underwear on, the only stuff that fits right now, but when Joel makes his way through your bedroom door, left open this time, it doesn’t matter, he’s looking at you like you’re the loveliest thing he’s ever seen. 

Tommy is behind him, walking over to take his place on the chair in the corner, leaving you and Joel to have a moment to yourself, for now. Joel leans down and presses his usual chaste kiss to your cheek, pulling back to look down at you, looming over you as he traces your bottom lip with his thumb, just like he had the first night you’d been together. 

“You frustrated, darlin’ girl?” He asks, letting a smirk fall across his lips, “Thought you didn’t need me anymore, didn’t you?” You vehemently shake your head, no, you knew you needed him, and if you’d known Tommy would let you, you’d have asked months ago, “Don’t worry, pretty girl, I think together we can make you feel good.” He tilts his head to Tommy, sat behind you, but for once, your eyes are only on Joel. 

You reach your own hand up to cup his face, letting your fingers trace along the rough hair on his jaw, you want to tell him you’ve missed him, because you have, but instead you just settle for trying to finally get what you want. 

“You gonna spend all night looking at me?” You ask coyly, “Or are you going to eat my pussy?” 

“You drive a hard bargain.” He smirks, dropping to his knees, pulling at your ankles so you’re siting over the end of the bed, his hands coming to undo the tie of your robe, slipping it off to reveal your naked upper half to him. 

“Look what we did, pretty girl,” Joel whispers, big palms running over the swell of your stomach, “Look what we made together.” 

You’re overcome with emotion, tears pricking at your eyes, as his gentle hands trace the bump, mouth trailing just behind his hands as he worships his work, worships what he’s made you. As his fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear and pull them down, you feel the bed dip behind you. Tommy settles himself against your back, letting his legs rest on either side of your own, his lips starting to trail down your neck and across your shoulder as Joel spreads your legs. 

You can feel the breath from Joel’s mouth across the skin of your pussy, your hips bucking to try and meet his mouth. He brings your legs to rest over his broad shoulders, widening your spread legs before his mouth is on you. He’s doing what he always does, using his tongue to lap up at your slick hole first, and he’s groaning whilst he does it. He hasn’t had the taste of you on his mouth for six months, and even he’s surprised with how much he’s missed it. You lean yourself fully back into Tommy’s chest, as his hands come to cup the weight of your tits. They’re sensitive and sore, and he knows to be gentle, but he’s running his thumbs over your peaked nipples just enough that the pleasure outweighs the slight pain you feel. 

It's all inconsequential anyway once Joel trails his tongue up through your folds and over your clit. It’s like the trail of his tongue sets you on fire, lighting every single part of you alight as he touches you. You’re squirming against the pleasure of Tommy’s fingers at your chest, so much so that Joel has to grip the meat of your thighs to keep you steady as he trails the tip of his tongue over your clit in slow, languid movements, working you up slowly this time. 

With Tommy’s lips at your neck and his hands on your tits, and the slow but firm work of Joel’s tongue on your clit, you’re reaching your peak before you really know it’s happening. You can feel your thighs begin to shake and the way you’re grinding yourself into Joel’s face to chase the feeling of his mouth, you know you’re not going to last much longer. You reach down and run your fingers through his hair, anchoring his face to your aching cunt. 

“You gonna come for us baby?” Tommy breathes into your ear, “Go on, let go for us, I know you’ve been waiting.” 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” You breathe out with every breath you exhale, “I’m- oh my god-”

It hits you like a fucking freight train. Six months of pent-up tension released all at once as you actually scream Joel’s name out into the room. You can feel Tommy’s erection behind you, pressing into your lower back as you arch up into Joel’s mouth, his tongue working you through the aftershocks. 

He pulls his face away from your pussy, rubbing the slick onto your thigh as he presses soft kisses to the delicate skin there whilst you try and fill your lungs with air, trying not to cry at the relief you finally feel after all this time. 

“Wasn’t so hard, was it, pretty girl?” He speaks from between your thighs, finally pulling back enough that you can see those big, brown eyes, “Just needed a little extra help, didn’t you?” You’re too blissed out to care much right now at his teasing tone because he’s right. You did just need a little extra help. 

“You want him to fuck you, sugar?” Tommy asks into your ear. 

Joel stands, hands poised at his shirt buttons, waiting for your permission. You look him straight in the eye, legs spread, your wet cunt on full display for him, “I’d be disappointed if he didn’t.” 

Joel is slipping of his shirt in seconds, belt and jeans soon following. You can already see the bulge in the front of his underwear as Tommy moves from behind you. You move to grip his arm to get him to stay. 

“I’ll be right over here,” He soothes, pointing to the chair, “Just enjoy yourself, okay?” 

You turn your attention back to Joel, who is palming his cock through the thin material of his boxers, watching you as you shuffle back onto the bed. 

“What works for you, pretty girl?” He asks, letting his underwear drop to the floor as he crawls onto the mattress with you, “What makes you feel good?” 

He looms over you, settled between your thighs as he kisses at your neck. He wants you to be comfortable. He knows the positions you both favoured before are a dream now – there’s no way he would want to fold you in half, your legs on his shoulders, like he used to. You bring a hand to his chest, letting your fingers spread through the patchy hair that sits there. 

“Let me ride you?” You ask, almost shyly. 

“Whatever you want, babygirl.” 

Joel stretches out on the mattress and helps you to straddle his waist, holding your hands as you flounder a little to mount his body. He keeps you steady as you reach between the two of you to grab his cock, lining yourself up ready to sink down onto him. 

“I knew you’d be fuckin’ beautiful like this,” He groans as you slide down onto his cock, wet heat enveloping him as his hands rest on your stomach as you start grinding onto him, “Look at you,” He coos, “Puttin’ on a show for your man over there.” 

When you turn your head Tommy is exactly how he usually is, filthy grin plastered on his face, fisting his cock as he watches you take your pleasure from his brother. It makes you feel powerful as you rock your hips, feeling Joel’s cock work inside your pussy as he watches you. 

“It’s a fuckin’ great show too.” Tommy groans as he works himself in his hand. 

You bring your attention back to Joel, palms placed on his chest as you start fucking yourself on him. His hands are on your hips, but instead of the bruising grip they used to hold you in, now he’s softer, gentler with you as he guides your hips in movements that have you both moaning each other’s names. 

“Feels so good Joel,” You choke out, leaning as far forward as you can with your pregnant belly, trailing kisses along his jaw, “Missed this.” 

When you finally lean back, hands on Joel’s knee’s which he’s brought up to rest behind you, feet planted on the bed so he can finally start thrusting up into your aching cunt, you know it won’t be long until you’re seeing stars again. Joel brings his hand to your pussy, thumb rubbing tight circles across your clit. 

“Missed you too, pretty girl,” He groans, hips faltering as he thrusts up into you, he’s close too, “Missed feeling this pretty pussy clench around me when you’re gonna come for me.” 

“Don’t stop,” You breathe, “I’m so fucking close Joel.” 

He does exactly what you ask, keeps a steady rhythm of thrusts into your pussy, his hand working at your clit. You take a moment to look at Tommy, who gives you a wink as you watch him, eyes on him as he comes, covering his lower belly and his hand with his spend as he continues to watch you. 

“Come on, pretty girl,” Joel growls, bringing your attention back down to him, “Come for me.” 

You can feel the walls of your tight heat fluttering around his cock as you start to come around him. You hold yourself up with your hands on his knees as your vision blurs and pleasure spools its way across your body. You’re crying out his name as you feel him still inside you, the warmth of his spend seeping into you as he groans your name. Filling you right to the brim like he’d always done before, gripping your hips to keep you in place as your walls continued to flutter around him through your aftershocks. 

Once he’s sure you’re both finished, Joel helps you to lie down on the bed, pulling you off him and settling you on your back. You can hear Tommy at the other side of the room, doing his jeans up before he’s padding out of the room and down the stairs. 

“Are you alright?” Joel asks, lips close to your ear as he lets himself take a moment alone with you, hand resting on your stomach as the baby inside you wriggles around. 

“I’m fine,” You sigh, turning to look at him, he’s so close, his hand warm and protective on your swollen belly, “Thank you.” 

“None of that, pretty girl,” He can see the tears forming in your eyes, he takes your chin in his fingers, tilting your face just enough to press the softest kiss to your lips, “No more tears.” 

You bring your hand to his face, pulling him back down for another kiss, soft and over far too quickly, pulling away just as Tommy starts back up the stairs. By the time he’s in the room with a glass of water and the tablets you were taking to keep your heartburn at bay, Joel is already pulling on his clothes. You’re standing up, aiming to pick your robe up from the floor, but Joel beats you to it – handing you the silk material before bending to pick up his shirt. 

When he’s dressed, it’s the same as always, you both press kisses to each other’s cheeks and say goodbye. Tommy walks him downstairs, and you can hear them talking a little as you head to the bathroom. If there’s one thing you weren’t risking, it was a UTI whilst pregnant. As you’re washing your hands you can hear the front door close, and the sound of Tommy’s footsteps back on the stairs. 

You meet him outside the bedroom door, shedding his clothes as you do the same. It takes you a while to find a position you’re comfortable enough in to consider sleeping – led on your back with Tommy’s hand firmly on your stomach as is had been since the very beginning, his head on the pillow next to yours. 

“Thank you,” You say into the darkness, “For trusting us.” 

Tommy takes a moment before he replies, “I know he makes you happy,” He kisses your cheek, “All I ever want is for you to be happy.” 

[mbappeward]

kylian mbappe imagine - when the waitress disrespects you

pairing: kylian mbappe x female reader

word count: 1192

[ in which mbappe and his teammates go to a restaurant along with y/n to celebrate a trophy, just for y/n to be disrespected by a waitress working there. how will mbappe react? ]

enjoy!!

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

maintaining a relationship was not easy, and the fact that your boyfriend was the kylian mbappe did not make it any easier. the both of you did decide to go public, it's been nearly 8 months now and the hate did come on strong, but you expected it before the news was announced so it didn't bother you much. or, it could have been the fact that kylian had gone onto your phone to check any hate dms just so you wouldn't willingly scroll through them to put yourself down over degrading dms from jealous girls. it was now 7pm, and you were at a restaurant with the french national team, all of them wanting to celebrate after have winning an important trophy. you were invited and you didn't hesitate to say yes to show your support towards your boyfriend. the night started just fine, giggling at varane who had one too many drinks of wine that resulted in blabbering about random stuff.

the giggles around your table was endearing. the voice of hard working players finally being able to enjoy themselves without having to worry about fans stalking and taking pictures of them, there was nobody to bother them at this specific time. and so everyone was relaxed, eating up their meals as they talked away with each other, you felt kylians hand dip down the table, fingers wiggling to find his way over to your hand without having any sight. once he found them, he didn't hesitate to grasp your hands with his own, rubbing your hand with his thumb and giving you a reassuring squeeze as you smiled at him, feeling at peace. that was until, you saw a waitress walk by, holding a pad between her fingers as she was ready to take your order. "anything else?" she gave a sweet smile towards the players, ignoring you completely as she finished off as she gazed at kylian to finish off her stare.

you didn't miss the way she bat her eyebrows at him, as if she was trying to get noticed but only coming off as uncomforting. you let it slide, you knew that she was doing nothing because kylian wouldn't respond to her doings. "can I have the steak please-?" you started, interrupting the silence as she kept staring at kylian. her head shot to the right, looking down at you with a displeased face. "don't you think you've had too much to eat already? that dress is starting to look a little too tight on you," the words left her mouth like butter, but pierced through your chest like knifes, you gaped you're lips at her response, now catching the attention of the whole table as they looked towards you. kylian let go of your hand from the table, his eyes widening as he looked up at her. "excuse me? what did you just tell her?" kylian started, but you squeezed his wrist in hopes that he wouldn't make a scene.

she looked at kylian again, giving him a smile that he winced at before she spoke again. "i mean, im just trying to defend you. a man like you, don't you think you deserve better than...that? you looked at with disbelief, now letting your head hang low as you tried to avoid the stares of other people from the restaurant. you could feel the way kylian tensed, the other players now having worried expressions as they shot you looks that you avoided. "excuse me? isn't that none of your business? I can choose whoever I want and you have no rights to tell me what I do and don't deserve. y/n is beautiful, and it's obvious that's why your causing a scene about her." kylian stood up from his chair as you lookup up him to meet your stare halfway. "get up, we're leaving," you looked towards him with timid eyes, not wanting to be the center of attention as you pulled on his hand. "it's okay..." "no it's not, get up," he remained stern, holding your hand so carefully between his own.

"yeah, we're never ever coming here back after her words. I'm sorry I recommended this place, I didn't know the staff was going to be this bad," you smiled a little griezmanns words, as you saw giroud walking towards the front check to write them a check as dembele was mumbling to the manager about the disrespect. you started covering yourself with your hands, trying to squeeze in your belly when kylian noticed. "no, stop that," he warned, holding your hands in his as he walked out of the restaurant, letting his teammates deal with the rest. when you made your way towards the car parked a street away, kylian had you lean against his car, his figure giving over you. his hand made its way to your cheeks, dipping his head low to press his lips tenderly against your own. "you know what she said wasn't true. you're so fucking beautiful I can't even began to explain how untrue everything that she said was."

the tears that you had been holding on finally let go as a single tear managed to slips out your eye. kylian was quick to kiss it away before it even rolled down half of your face. "she's just jealous, baby. I know how hard it is but if I think you're the most beautiful woman in the world then you are, right? you're going to believe some stupid waitress over me?" he asked, you looked up at him and sniffed. "they're all right, they're mad because I took you away from them, they think you deserve better and you-" "don't finish that sentence. you and I both know that your looks isn't the only thing i love you for. I do think you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on but your personality too. your habit of twitching your nose when you sleep, playing with your ring when you're nervous, the way you bite your lips when your shy, how you're so caring, and so so understanding, what more do I need? you're like everyone's dream girl get I have you all to myself!"

you ended up smiling at his little comment, earning a content smile from kylian as well. "I love you, so much," he cooked softly, kissing the spot right under your ear as you blushed deeply, trying to keep yourself sane at his touch. "you know, when we get home, im going to take this dress off and show you how beautiful you are and what you deserve," you felt goosebumps shoot through your arm, the little bumps already appearing as kylian laughed at the sight. it seemed like he would have devoured you right there if it weren't for his teammates slipping towards the car, giving you reassurance as you simply nodded and thanked them for being supportive of you. the whole ride home, kylian had his hands on yours, reminding you just how much you meant to him, wanting you to know that nobody loves you more then he does, because he really did adore you.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Hi, can I request break up to make up (angst to fluff) story with Jake Kim? It was when Jake running an illegal toto, that time Jake was super busy that he neglected his s/o & his s/o hated that he running an illegal bussiness, then they broke up. After he got out from juvenile, he looked after his s/o to say sorry and try to win his s/o's heart back. Sorry for my bad english & thank you in advance 💙

Anon, your english is pretty fantastic. And even if it isn't, don't apologise for it!

Thanks for the ask and so sorry for the delay!

Jake Kim x Reader: To the end

Gambling arc to juvie release

"I have to do this for Big Deal."

"But this isn't what Big Deal stands for!"

"It's what I need to do for us to survive."

You hate that Jake never looks at you. Not once. Like he's already made up his mind. You were meant to stand with him to the end. He promised.

"You know how much Sinu would hate this!"

"Sinu isn't here anymore." Jake's words hit you like a gut punch.

He catches your lower lip trembling. Those lips he's kissed a thousand times before, and wants to kiss forevermore. Your touch, your taste. It's seared into his memory.

"You're going to ruin other people's lives including your own. I can't watch you do this," you whisper. He's going down a path you cannot and will not follow.

Countless shows and movies and books have misled you. You thought a break up would be screaming, tears, anger. All you feel is empty. Helpless.

Like the Jake Kim you know is slipping between your fingers and there is nothing you can do to stop it.

"I don't want you to neither," Jake holds your hands, thumbs brushing your knuckles. He memorises the feel of your hand in his.

I'm protecting you, he reasons. It's for the best.

He forces the words out, "I think this is the end of the road for us."

How odd to think only a couple days ago you woke up in each other's arms. You thought your love for one another was so obvious, that everyone could practically see a love heart pulsating overhead.

Yet now, so suddenly, you've reached a dead end.

"...If that's what you want," You can't bring yourself to remove your hands from his, to sever the last of your connection.

Big Deal is too dangerous. Your safety is a risk Jake cannot take. The gambling racket is a burden he needs to shoulder. Alone.

"It is," he lies, and lets you go.

He never meets your gaze even as you leave.

It's easier this way.

.

.

"Please Jerry, just write down what I say and deliver it to Y/N."

Even with the visitor's barrier between them, Jake could feel the displeasure radiating off Jerry.

(When Big Deal initially found out about the break up, no-one said a word. They didn't need to. The disagreement with how their leader has handled his own personal relationship was written all over their faces.)

And maybe Jake should let sleeping dogs lie, Jerry certainly thought so. But after ending up in Juvie, he feels like he owes you an explanation. Or at least an apology.

Shame that you are right to the bitter end. The lives he's dragged down with him weigh heavy on his conscience. That young kid - Jiho. Members of Big Deal including Brad, Jason.

What a mess.

.

.

Juvie gives Jake a lot of time to think.

That the quicker you forget about him, the better.

But the thought of forgetting you. Of referring to you as in the past, history, done. Of your face and smile and voice fading from memory. It hurts him more than he can bear.

Every night, drifting off to sleep in a room full of other delinquents, he would allow his thoughts to wander.

What are you doing with your life now? Are you still fretting over your grades? Have you been spending your spare time with friends? Did you go to that new cafe in the end? See that film you were excited for? Have you found someone that could actually make you happy? Do you still think about me? Do you remember the times we had? Do you miss me like I miss you-

Jake imagines the lilt of your voice as you respond, eyes bright and full of life, smile beautiful and beaming.

Other times, the masochism takes hold and under the cloak of darkness, Jake gives into the fantasy of you both living a normal life. An alternate universe where there are no complications, and you are both two kids that simply fell in love.

Eventually, dawn breaks and in the cold light of day, there is no escaping reality.

.

.

"Hi Jake,"

"Y/N?"

It's you. Really you. Is this a nightmare or the most perfect dream? Jerry had delivered the letter and this was the last thing Jake expected. Did he not make it clear enough how dangerous this is for you?

"Yeah... Jerry pulled some strings so I could visit you."

Oh. Well Jerry kept this quiet.

Awkwardness and tension lingers in the air. Neither one of you had spoken or seen each other since that night nearly a year ago.

"Y/N..." Strange that your name feels rusty on Jake's tongue when you are constantly in his thoughts.

"Fuck you," Your vitriol catches him off-guard. Eyes full of fury, lips turned down, "You promised we're a team. You promised you wouldn't leave me out."

You slam the letter against the screen, "This is bullshit, Jake Kim. And you know it."

"How do you not understand this?" Jake's voice starts to rise in frustration, "The danger with Gun and the crews? This is for the best-"

You cut him off with the one and only question that matters to you. That frayed the edge of your sanity for months on end-

"Do you still love me?"

The question stuns him. He considers saying otherwise but he can't refute this. After everything, denying it feels like one lie too far.

Jake doesn't offer anything but a lack of answer is enough for you. For your spark of hope.

"I'll wait for you. I'll see you when you get out."

Your intentions are laid clear. Jake doesn't say no.

.

.

You don't visit again.

However, you give snippets of your life faithfully delivered by Jerry.

It starts as a few sentences, then develops into paragraphs, and finally into pages.

Snapshots of you. Your life, your thoughts. A little like how it used to be.

Jake hears your voice each time he reads your words. Thinks about your furrowed brows or dimpled smile that accompanies. He reads each letter over and over again, until they're dog-earred and turning brittle at the creases.

Even the ones full of anger and hurt.

He responds whenever he can. Treasuring the stationery rewarded for good behaviour, greedily hoarding it all to write back.

Over the weeks and months, the ice starts to thaw.

.

.

On the day Jake is released, the rest of the crew greet him with smiles and signage and "Good to have you back, Sir!"

You're also there. Standing next to Jerry and Big Deal, like you have always belonged.

"Welcome back, Sir," you tease, easily slipping back into old habits.

"You actually waited for me?"

"I said I would."

Of course you did. But Jake couldn't blame you if you changed your mind.

.

.

The conversation continues in his bedroom. Away from prying but well-meaning ears.

Jake has missed this. Being around his things, his crew, his street, you.

"I love you, you idiot. For better or worse."

The underlying tension still remains though you see no point in withholding the depth of your affection.

Jake takes a moment, running your words through his mind. He still needs to ensure you truly understand what being with him means.

"You know how dangerous getting mixed up with Big Deal is, right?" he attempts. You cut him off with a sharp look.

Seriously. If he starts this shit up again. Who does he take you for? Some innocent little girl?

"Fine, fine." Jake holds up both hands as a sign of surrender, before he finally says those words you have been dreaming of:

"I love you too."

(He wonders if he would ever regret this moment of weakness and selfishness, but he sees your smile and knows he could never regret making you happy.)

The tension breaks.

Jake slips easily back into his old habits too, snaking his arms around your waist and capturing your mouth in a kiss.

He has missed this - being yours, most of all.

When you break apart, Jake doesn't shy away from your gaze this time. He intends to keep his promise to you. You're his partner. His equal.

With him to the end.

[theunaestheticstudyblr]

We talk a lot about productivity on studyblr. And seeing what some people accomplish in a single day is absolutely stunning. Like damn you cooked 3 meals, cleaned, studied for 3 hours, worked for 8 hours, took a walk, made espresso, read 3 chapters, AND made a whole painting? Seeing these lists can make you feel lazy or underachieving. I promise you're not. A lot of times you just don't have small "habits" (I can't form habits for some reason so they're more like small, structured items I make a conscious effort to complete daily) that structure your day and mindset. But even if you do, remember that not everyone is 100% every day and some days, you don't do anything and that's ok! Listen to your body!

Firstly, realize that lists like the one I listed are probably exaggerated. I doubt someone can cook themselves a meal while at work and unless they're getting up at 5am, they probably don't have time to get all of that done. This is the first thing you gotta realize. Social media is full of exaggerations and lies. This includes the studyblr community. So don't fall for the expectations that you see here.

Secondly, get a schedule for yourself. Get up at a certain time, make your bed after you get up, go and wash your face. This gets your mind to transition from being asleep to doing things. Wash dishes after you use them. Hang your laundry after you finish it. Put things away after use them. Keep your shoes in the same spot and get a shower schedule going. These small things are hard at first, but get easier as they become more routine.

By doing things immediately, you don't create much clutter and your cleaning time is cut down drastically. It helps so much. Trust me.

Have relax time. I've posted this before because it's IMPORTANT. SCHEDULE YOUR BREAK AND RELAX TIME AND TREAT IT LIKE ANYTHING ELSE. IT'S NOT LESS IMPORTANT.

Find easy snacks and meals! Look at pinterest or Instagram for ideas! Egg and cheese wraps, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, salmon and mashed potatoes, etc. Especially if you work a lot like I do. The majority of my diet is "easy meals" at this point.

Make time for healthy habits. Meditation, yoga, a jog, the gym, running, swimming, reading by the creek, dancing to weird music, just get up and move and give your mind a break. You charge your phone. You need to charge yourself too.

Sleep. Please. Get a full 6-8 hours of sleep. Don't glorify sleeping small amounts. It's not a competition. I hate seeing people compare how little sleep they got, like bro that's like bragging about eating nothing but bacon and potato chips or something. Get sleep. Have a night time routine. Make sleep a sacred night time ritual even. Please. It's good for your body, your mind, your immune system, your skin, your future brain, etc. It can reduce your chances of getting in a car crash even.

Realize that life isn't a race or a competition. Life is something so short and it's meant to be enjoyed and savored. Please do something every day that makes you smile. Do something every day that makes you laugh. Do something every day that makes someone else smile. Live each day like it's the one you'll be remembered for. Spread love and kindness, especially to yourself and make sure you remind those you love that you do every chance you get. At the end of the day, you're living life, not racing in a societal race to be the most accomplished and you need a reminder about that.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

request for you to write anything sad and comforting about Helen please, just let your thoughts flow

I went with some varied headcanons :) I hope you enjoy them. I really miss writing for Helen.

Hates the way he's set up his life to go socially. When Helen first joined the mansion he didn't want to be friends with anyone. He was so used to isolation that he didn't want to try and forge bonds with anyone, so he became the quiet loner that just sits quietly in the back of the room. In a world where he has you, it's more tolerable, and much easier, as you give him the socialness that he craves, and you make it so much easier for him to cross the boundary with others as well. But, in a world without you, in a world that's just my lore, he doesn't have that. I mean, sure, he has Pup and Natalie, but even then, they don't talk nearly as often as he would like, but he's too scared and timid to try and ask them to hang out more, to ask them to help him get to know the others. Helen feels constantly trapped in the isolation that he's built for himself.

On rainy or snowy days, that's when Helen craves you the most. He feels so much colder and so much lonelier, especially because he can't really escape outside as much as he would like on these days, and so he always searches you out. These are the few times when Helen will be openly clingy with you, grabbing onto your arm and your hand gently as he quietly asks you to go somewhere more private, assuming that's okay, but if it's not, he'll just settle himself beside you, refusing to release your arm as he buries into your shoulder. Helen isn't sure why these days are so difficult for him, as nothing involving his trauma had to do with rain or snow and clouds hanging above, but he just feels so lost and cold and alone, and your company is the best solution he's found to cope with it. On the days you're happy to indulge him and go somewhere private, he'll curl up in bed with you, your back against his chest, a warm blanket around both of you and warm hot chocolate to drink close by. Sometimes he'll turn on something to quietly play in the background like a show or music, but for the most part, he just wants to indulge in the comfort of your warmth.

Draws people's faces when he misses them. Something he's done for a while now is that when he really misses someone, even someone he's not necessarily close to, he'll draw their face to soothe the ache in his chest. When Natalie or Pup have been gone on a long mission, he'll devote whole pages to sketching their most shown emotions. When he hasn't gotten to see you for some extended period of time, he'll spend hours drawing you in such wonderful detail, making sure every line is perfect. When Toby hasn't stopped by the art room in a while to hang out and draw, Helen sits in Toby's favorite spot and draws the bright smiles Toby always has on his face when he stops by, or the sad frustration when his drawings begin to represent Toby's inner sadness. When Jeff hasn't been around the mansion in a while, Helen draws his louder expressions, when he's yelling, laughing, or just being annoying. Helen remembers so many details from everyone's faces, and the drawings are always so accurate and well done, and yet, nobody knows. He feels too... Nervous? He's not used to feeling nervous, but he tells himself that nervousness is what he feels about it, maybe even shy, and so he keeps these drawings to himself, to leaf through and add to when that longing for companionship rises back up again.

[dovalore]

i bought a pair for stock the pond recently and decided i’d make a badge for them and their kids

lore under the cut

aruktai, the 'fae'

he's actually a guardian! he ended up turning into a fae after he was slain in battle while protecting ransetsu

it's pretty weird for him to be in such a small body now, but at least he's still alive...

the reason he's a fae right now is that he's the descendant of a guardian who's charge is a phoenix and their bloodline's been blessed (or cursed) so that a guardian can't die unless their charge does

normally they'd stay as guardians, but he was wounded badly enough that only a scrap of him remained

aru's still very much a guardian in spirit, ransetsu is still his charge even if he no longer has his old body

well, he tells everyone that, but his true charge is actually ransetsu's freedom, his ability to live his life as he pleases, which naturally comes with the man himself

it's easier to tell those unfamiliar with the concept that his charge is another dragon instead of something so... theoretical?

ransetsu, the ridgeback

he's from a filthy rich family of merchants that deal in goods produced in the ashfall waste

he's not interested in inheriting this 'empire' at all, the thought of it stressed him out to the point of him running away, which is exactly how he met aruktai

which was a massive boon for him because he's absolutely awful at trying to take care of himself, he's the kind of guy who's walk directly onto a rake and introduce his forehead to its handle. it's bad

he's always liked aru from the start because y'know he's quite literally the only person who listened to his reservations about being in the family business and went, "okay, let's go far away from this place then." instead of immediately trying to return him for well, a dragon's ransom

their relationship

ransetsu's without a doubt head over heels for the mysterious man that literally appeared out of the blue and whisked him away from his old home. he's... not experienced when it comes to romance, but his efforts to impress aruktai are nothing if not from the heart. he still clumsy as ever

aruktai... is flattered. he's not playing 'hard to get', he just genuinely doesn't know what to do in this situation because he's never thought about being in a relationship with anyone. the search for his charge all but consumed his every waking moment and now that he's found it, he's free to pursue one

lucky for ransetsu, aruktai does find his attempts to court him incredibly endearing. unfortunately for both of them, he also feels like he doesn't really deserve to be the center of his attention, not after he failed to protect ransetsu from getting captured to be used as a bartering chip

aruktai did manage to free him again, but the incident left him way more shaken than he'd liked to admit. if it wasn't for his blessing, he wouldn't be alive at all and would've died a failure

this isn't something that has escaped ransetsu's notice and while he can never know the depths to which aruktai feels the way he does about what happened, it's plainly obvious to him that this is something that's constantly weighing him down

the whole ordeal was incredibly unpleasant for both of them and aruktai doesn't know that he's not the only one who feels personally responsible for it. ransetsu doesn't know how to fight, why would he? he's never had the cause to do so since he's been pampered his entire life

their offspring

they aren't canon lol i just wanted to make cool lore for a pair of dragons

if you do happen to receive one of their offspring you don't have to follow anything i say here or even keep them connected at all, do whatever

-----

SURPRISE BONUS LORE

you thought i was done? wrong! i have ffxiv lore for them too because i love lizards, mild spoilers for stormblood?

aruktai buduga

he's from the steppe

and he would've happily spent the rest of his days there if he didn't absolutely hate magnai's guts, he vehemently opposed his brothers' decision to join hands with the oronir, but alas his voice fell on deaf ears

he fought daidukul about it and lost, so he packed up his bags and left entirely

from then on, he became a travelling mercenary around the far east

ransetsu final fantasy

sorry i don't have a surname for him yet LMAOO

he comes from a family of blacksmiths and armourers who are obscenely wealthy

his family quickly found out that while he was absolutely awful when it came to metalwork (clumsy), he had a gift for selling their wares to customers simply by talking about what they could do

so he basically became their ambassador

one day he got jumped in a backalley after leaving a restaurant, aruktai happened to be there so he sent ransetsu's assailants packing

ransetsu immediatey decided to buy his services permanently by hiring him as his persona guard

their relationship

ransetsu absolutely decks aruktai out in the finest armour he can get his hands on, to him a warrior such as him absolutely deserves the best of the best

aruktai's honestly a little starstruck by how this all played out, all because a guy was grating to the point of him leaving the steppe...

anyway ransetsu's basically aruktai's glucose guardian now (they're roughly around the same age) and he gets whatever he wants because he's so good at fighting

spending money on aruktai brings ransetsu immense joy

[2af-afterdark]

What are your opinions on Beelzebub and Amon's relationship?

Please note that, no matter how often I talk shit about Bell, I find him a deeply fascinating character and his dynamics to every single person we see him interacting with in need of serious analysis.

Short Answer: Messy

Long Answer: Holy shit. Amon, sir, please get a different obsession. It would be so much healthier for you. You and Bell will only break each other's hearts.

Spoilers ahead for the "Where is Beelzebub" event, Beelzebub (Bloodshed), and Amon's comic.

Amon's obsession (and it is an obsession) with Beelzebub seems to derive from the fact that Bell appeared at the exact right moment. Amon's family had just been killed, he was in danger, and he wailed so primally that Bell came to save him. It's at that exact moment that Bell himself revels that Amon is one of the 72 who is destined to someday serve him. That most certainly created a core memory in Amon. He lost his family, was saved, and learned that he has this massive destiny... all centered around Bell. It makes sense that he would develop a complex around Bell. And, well, devils have complexes in interesting ways. In Amon's case, he started being able to sniff out Bell like a bloodhound and collects fragments of him that linger.

However, Amon is not the only one in this dynamic. There is also Bell, who has an interesting relationship with ALL of the other devils in hell he meets. However, we are only talking and him and Amon right now, so...

Bell is like an absentee father. He doesn't spend time in his own kingdom, needing to be dragged back every now and again. However, as we can see in Amon's character comic (or, at least how I interpret the final panel), that he will come back to his kingdom if he is truly needed.

Also, sometimes he just stops by because he misses the place. His reasons for leaving aren't as simple as him hating work, but because he can't stay there for some reason. His cheerful expression as he leaves others behind seems to be a ruse, but I do genuinely think it hurts him to leave everyone behind. I also think, if he had to say goodbye for real, it would probably disturb him. He puts Amon and the others to sleep because it's easier than saying goodbye. He visits a sleeping Bael because it's easier to come and go without a word.

He's avoiding the real ramifications of his actions because, in the end, there is nothing he can truly do about it. He can't stay with them, so he makes his departures easier on himself by keeping some emotional distance.

Whether he thinks this is easier for the people he leaves behind or if he doesn't care what their side is... that I have yet to determine.

I want to show you part of Beelzebub (Bloodshed) because I think it helps explain the dynamic between the two even better. (Note: I yoinked these from a Discord server I am in so... Not mine, but I need them to show you this messy dynamic).

From Bell's part, we can certainly see his lackadaisical attitude in saying goodbye to others, but also the mature reasoning with which he justifies his actions. He's leaving because being with him isn't safe. He is making this choice to protect others, just as he protected Amon when he needed him most. Leaving is a form of love and caring in his mind.

But that isn't necessarily how others see it...

Amon, -- who is quite literally obsessed with Bell and will wait for him forever, who probably thinks the most like Bell (hence why he can easily locate Bell if needed), and who knows exactly why Bell cannot stay in Avisos -- cannot be the one waiting around because it hurts. Being left behind, especially by the person you most revere, has to be deeply painful. However, there is nothing he can do about it other than not be the one getting hurt. In a way, I think it may also be him reading what Bell needs. Bell leaving is one thing, but it's another if Bell is saying goodbye to the people he loves and, instead of standing in place and crying, he sees them taking off. Amon is absolving Bell of some guilt when he walks away because the departure is mutual rather than abandonment. I think, in Amon's obsession, he has developed a sort of emotional intelligence in regards to Bell in specific.

So, long story short, their relationship is messy. It is incredibly painful and unhealthy for everyone, but not because of anything they can control. It's the fault of a war in which even their ties to one another are victims. They are doing what they can with it, but that doesn't mean they are managing it well. Amon developed a complex around the person who was there when he needed someone most and Bell is unable to be present for the people who love him most.

ISN'T THIS GAME SO HORNY AND FUN!!??!??!?!!?

[iblisterbottoms]

I suppose this is going to bring up some controversy. But I would like to know everyone's opinions on safewords. Now what I'm going to talk about is spanking and safewords specifically and nothing else.

I assume people invented and keep using safe words to make a play safer and easier.

I'm not really surprised it makes neither safer nor easier for me. Don't shout I'm mental and dangerous though, until you will finish reading the post.

I hate safewords, they never increase the amount of trust or the safety feeling.

The simplest explanation is that if a top insist on choosing a safeword my mind translates it as 'It's your responsibility to stop the play if you need, I'm not going to bother and try to understand your reaction or try to assess how much pain you are in, I'm just going to whack you'.

I KNOW it's not what any descent top would meant by wanting to play with chosen safeword, but that's just the first thought that pops straight into my mind. Can't help it.

Of course I can't imagine playing without a way to stop the play if I feel like. I just never left a need for one chosen, awkward word.

Some people like colours like green, yellow and red.

Or something more unusual like 'butterfly'.

So let me ask a question - why?

Isn't it easier (when someones in headspace thinking 'butterfly' doesn't seem to be easy), more natural and scene preserving to just say what I think?

Like 'strap wraps', 'please, don't hit me so high', 'I can't take it' etc.? I know myself and my mind and I know I would never enjoyed the feeling of a strap wrapping or my tail bone being hit so that seems to be a reasonable request any top should/will respect.

I don't need to go out of character, safeword, explain what's the problem and then try to go back into play-mood.

As far as 'I can't take it' goes... That's probably the closest thing to a safeword anyone can get. And again, that's impossible they would use that phrase in a roleplay to protest it just doesn't work.

There is also a lot word-less reactions that point pretty clearly that they're struggling for real (of course that needs number of previous roleplays for the top to get to know someone a bit). Though I like to think play-wise your partner would be easy to read. They touch their bum if the stroke was too much (I mean why would they try to steal from themselves the lovely feeling if it was indeed lovely? LOL).

Maybe the whole safeword aversion is just because they're rather a simple person? Plausibility and authenticity over acting? Instinct over planned reactions?

Anyway, I wonder whether someone would share their idea on safewords and happy they are to use them or do you feel like I do about them when spanking someone or being spanked?

[killroadz]

𝑨 𝑪𝒍𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑶𝒇 𝑯𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒂𝒍 𝑳𝒊𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑺𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

"𝐀 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤 ,𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤. 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐈 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞! 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞!!"

⊗∙⊗∙⊗∙⊗∙⊗∙⊗∙⊗∙⊗∙⊗∙⊗∙⊗∙⊗

Trigger Warnings: Mentioned Cults, implied grooming and very brief mentioned child abuse

Ｌｉｕ

Liu's full name is Lucius Vicki Woods, however he heavily prefers to just be called Liu. It's shorter and easier to say.

He's 27 years old(7 years older than Jeff) and he managed to graduate College before he started serial killing.

Liu uses He/Him pronouns. However he doesn’t care what pronouns you give him. If you were to use She/her pronouns for him, he won’t correct you, cuz he low key does not care.

Liu is 6'4 and really likes teasing anybody and everybody shorter than him.

He's kinda skinny. Like, he isn't unhealthy skinny or nothing, just...Skinny ish. He’s fine. He eats.

His hair is not brown, it’s actually a really dark shade of red, he never brushes it either. He’s dirty and he stinks. He takes one shower every few weeks.

Liu’s White-Asian, however he takes more after his dad (a privileged white man) than his mother (An Asian woman who Liu quite disliked) he got his height from his mother though.

Many people say Liu acts like his father, and he curses out anyone who dares compare to that bastard.

Liu tries to act like he cares about people, he’ll give you presents, love, his credit card and he’ll still won’t give a fuck about you. He only really cares about Jeff and Sully. Those are his little brothers and he’ll get crucified for them.

Speaking of crucified…that actually almost happened to Liu when he was around twelve. What he thought were adult aged people who cared about him were only cult members who wanted Liu to be their sacrifice.

He got away though, but those same cult members found EJ a couple years later.

Throughout Liu’s teenage years he often hung around the wrong group of people. People who told him that they cared about and loved him, people who used Liu to get what they wanted and forget about him for a month, only contacting him when they need him. (It was nothing sexual)

Liu also was extremely distant to his younger brother, so distant that the two brothers kinda hated each other. (Until Liu’s aunt forced Liu to use his first paycheck to buy ten-year-old Jeff chicken nuggets and a day in the park)

During Liu’s life his parents expected a lot from him, he was so busy trying to please his parents with good grades that he never noticed the abuse his parents put Jeff through. He suspected it but the thought of that never stuck around for along.

Current Liu feels like a piece of shit for not helping his brother when he was having a hard time, and he’ll help Jeff even when he doesn’t want his help.

He’s clingy and he knows too much about people. He knows everyone’s schedule, routine and etc. He knows your phone password, credit card number and IP address.

Protect your wives, husbands and spouses. Liu’s coming for all of them.

S U L L Y

Sully’s full name is Sully Harper Lauren’s. His name is not Sullivan, it’s just Sully.

Sully is seven years old, however he acts much older than his age. Sully uses He/Him pronouns. If you were to ask him what his pronouns were he’d tilt his head and shrug. He doesn’t know the answer to that question either.

He’s african american but his skin is very cold and uncomfortable to touch. He just needs lotion and a bath dw.

He has really fucking long purplish-black hair, if he is slouching, his hair will drag on the ground, which makes it really fucking dirty, similar to Liu, he never brushes it. Some of his hair covers the right part of his entire face. Sully literally cannot cut his hair, it grows back within several seconds, the only thing he can do it just tie it up.

Like said before, Sully does not act his age at all.

He acts more like adult-humored high schoolers that you’d see bullying a kid on the side of the road.

Sully is spiteful, arrogant, cruel and hard-headed. He’s a naturally very angry person, and hates everyone that tries to get close to him. Dispite that, Sully is actually pretty shy.

He prefers to be alone most the time, and when you are disrupting his alone time (which is all the time) he will curse and scream at you.

Leave Sully alone, that’s basically the only way to become his friend. Just leave him the fuck alone.

Even though Sully doesn’t act his age, he’s still a child. He watches kid shows that’ll easily keep him entertained and oh my god please push him on the swings and say “Woooosh” while doing it.

He really enjoys things like Transformers and Warrior Cats.

Compares every orange cat to Firestar. Every brown tabby cat is Tigerclaw, every fluffy white cat is Cloudtail. Oh? A brown tabby cat who hangs around plants a lot? Yeah that’s Leafpool. A very mean Calico cat? Mapleshade.

Has read every Warrior Cats book. Definitely Sparkpelt’s biggest fan. /j

Oh, by the way. Sully isn’t an alter or anything related with DID. He’s a vengeful ghost child who used to work for Zalgo. He can willingly possess Liu’s body when he pleases and he does most his murdering with Liu. Because Sully’s seven year old body cannot hold a knife. He can pick up things 60x his weight, he just cannot hold a knife with his own body for some reason.

He’s like- a really sad person and he expects too much of himself.

Don’t touch his bare skin!!! He’ll have a panic attack and start attacking you!

Poor baby just needs a hug, a blanket and a brother who actually likes him and cares about him.

Brotherly issues am I right?

On a wholesome note, he has a stuffed crocodile toy that he calls Snoodle. Plus a Iguana named Godzilla

⊗∙⊗∙⊗∙⊗∙⊗∙⊗∙⊗∙⊗∙⊗∙⊗∙⊗∙⊗

All right I’m done now. This really shouldn’t have take 2 months to finish. But whatever. Stay tuned for some more headcanons to come!

Have a great day

Reblogs > Likes

[promptling]

STAR TREK ( 2009 ) change pronouns as needed.

we have visual.

are you seeing this?

there is no help for us out here.

get off this ship.

do you know the location of ________?

where are you from?

do exactly as i say.

just keep breathing, you'll be fine.

i can't do this without you.

hey, are you out of your mind?

is there a problem, officer?

i presume you've prepared new insults for today.

they called you a traitor.

logic offers a serenity humans seldom experience.

come here, let me see you.

there's no need to be anxious.

fine has various applications, fine is unacceptable.

you have surpassed the expectations of your instructors.

it was logical to cultivate multiple options.

it's truly remarkable that you have achieved so much despite your disadvantage.

that's a lot of drinks for one woman.

don't you at least want to know my name before you completely reject one?

this townie isn't bothering you, right?

relax, cupcake.

it was a joke.

you all right?

you can whistle really loud.

i don't need a doctor, damn it, i am a doctor!

i may throw up on you.

one tiny crack in the hull and our blood will boil in 13 seconds.

i got nowhere else to go.

you've been requested on the bridge.

why are you so happy?

i think i love you.

that is so weird.

i'm doing you a favor.

i couldn't just leave you there looking all pathetic.

a little suffering's good for the soul.

i wish i didn't know you.

don't be such an infant.

may i have your attention, please?

how do you feel?

we're flying into a trap!

i think you've had enough attention for today.

i do not believe that you and i are acquainted.

your survival is unlikely.

the complexities of human pranks escape me.

i guess you have to come and get me.

how long do they have?

are you nuts?

we must evacuate.

what do you need?

tell me.

i need everyone to continue performing admirably.

you must have a lot of questions for me.

we have nothing left to discuss.

are you actually suggesting they're from the future?

the logical thing is to be unpredictable.

don't do that.

you gotta be kidding me.

how did you find me?

how do you know my name?

you hate me.

you are not the captain?

it will be easier.

so you do feel.

you could at least act like it was a hard decision.

you realize how unacceptable this is?

you don't eat anything!

how do you think i wound up here?

i do feel guilty about that.

do they still have sandwiches there?

you're coming with us, right?

under no circumstances can he be made aware of my existence.

i am emotionally compromised.

let's get this over with.

a trick i learned from an old friend.

i'm not telling.

i'd rather not take sides.

i will not allow you to lecture me about the merits of emotion.

you feel nothing!

you never loved her.

i am no longer fit for duty.

i like this ship!

thanks for the support.

i sure hope you know what you're doing.

either we're going down, or they are.

what is necessary is never unwise.

i am as conflicted as i once was as a child.

i would cite regulation, but i know you will simply ignore it.

i'll be monitoring your frequency.

i have no comment on the matter.

i'lll cover you.

do you know where it is?

wow, that's weird.

it appears that you have been keeping important information from me.

i knew i should have killed you when i had the chance.

your species is even weaker than i expected.

you can't even speak.

i got your gun.

what are you doing here?

just following orders.

i would rather die in agony than accept assistance from you.

we cannot afford to ignore each other.

do yourself a favor.

put aside logic, do what feels right.

it is my honor to award you with this commendation.

your father would be proud.

i can provide character references.

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

HNNNM HI IF YOURE STILL DOING THE AU THING I NEED MORE FROM THE AU WHERE ONE FOR ALL MAKES IZUKU AND ALL MIGHT HEAR EACH LTHERS THOUGHTS PLEASE AND THANK YOU

reference to this post: This is a test designed to provoke an emotional response. — I saw an idea and wanted to share it with you.... (tumblr.com)

The hardest part at first is turning the thought sharing off. They figure out how pretty quick, but they always seem to have just one more question or comment. Izuku spends much of the long bus ride to the training camp 'talking' to All Might, often trying to trick him into thinking info about it. Particularly, if he's going to show up. All Might finally tells him that the trip is supposed to be a fun time with his friends, and he should spend time with them.

Communication stays quiet for most of the camp. Standard good mornings and goodnights, what's the plan for today, how was it? Izuku doesn't notice much while training, but in the calm moments of meals and getting ready for bed, he realizes he misses the second voice in his head. He starts mentioning more inconsequential things, like a weird insult Kacchan yelled or when Aoyama freaked out about dirt on his nice shirt, just so he has an excuse to hear All Might again. He only gets a substantial answer when he tells All might about Kouta, the kid who hates heroes. What should I say to convince him otherwise, he asks. You don't have to say anything, his mentor tells him. Not everyone is going to feel the same way you do about things. But he seems so lonely. So do you, the way you'd rather think at me than talk to your friends in front of you. Izuku is the one who cuts communications short that night.

The attack on the training camp is both better and worse. Izuku is able to communicate they're in trouble faster so heroes arrive to help faster, but in the meantime, All Might's panic comes through so strong, Izuku can feel it himself, which causes him to stumble fighting Muscular. Miles away, All Might collapses to the ground screaming as he feels the echo of his successor's spine snap.

There is something bad about the mind of someone in a coma. Nothing particularly nauseating or disturbing, but thoughts mesh and flow over top of one another like mixed up paint in a way that All Might immediately registers as wrong every time he tries. But he does try. To be comforting. Encouraging. Recovery will be long, but they'll get through it together. He repeats the words he overhears Mrs. Midoriya whisper to her son, thinking maybe he will get through easier. Bried moments of lucidity always come when All Might isn't in the room, and every time, he feels a painful tug towards he boy he can never move fast enough to rectify. The last time, before All Might heads out to rescue the kidnapped students, he leaves Izuku with the promise that he loves him, and he'll always be proud of him, before he shuts down his mind.

On the battlefield against One for All, true form revealed, All Might feels something touch the inside of his mind, like a cat scratching at the door to be let in. He makes the mistake of opening up a little. Izuku is horrified, asking him what happened and where he is. All Might tries to push him back out, if only to spare him the agony All for One is putting him through. Distracted, he takes another big hit, which echoes back and forth between him and Izuku. He tells his boy point blank that he doesn't want him to feel him die. Izuku counters that he shouldn't die at all, and the statement comes with enough anguish to draw out tears of his own. He's done for anyway, so he shifts gears to trying to comfort Izuku through the ordeal. He whispers softly, picturing himself at Izuku's bedside brushing his hair with his hands. And there's the tug again. The distance that needs to be closed. And suddenly, All Might remembers that distance. The gouged-out part of his soul where Nana used to dwell. He doesn't fear death because he's felt it before. But Izuku hasn't. And he won't any time soon. With the last of his strength, All Might punches All for One into the dirt, until fragments of his skull stab his fist.

[akilice]

Rin gasped as the ribbon -the last remains of Ariadne- disappeared from her hand. It was gone. Just like Sakura. Just like Shirou, when he walked out of her life, only for her to find out years later that he was executed. Just like Setanta, whose blood was now dry on her shirt. Rin let out a shaky breath. This lostbelt's king is dead, and it's time for everything to fall apart. "Tohsaka! What are you doing? We need to get out of here!" Chaldea's master called out. Yeah, this place is falling apart. Soon, one of these rocks will come down to crush her. "Tohsak-" Rin shot Hakuno's shoulder with a Gandr. The shot only grazed her skin, leaving Hakuno and Mash confused and on alert. "I'm not going with you." Rin glared at them. "Leave, or I'll kill you." "Are you kidding me?! This is not the time for-" "Face me! Chaldea!" Rin shot again, but Mash blocked it, and looked at her with somber eyes. "Either face me, or leave me!" "Tohsaka-senpai…" Mash's eyes begged her to stop. "Is this really how you deal with an enemy?" Rin smirked. "You just beg them to come with you? You really think you can do anything with that soft attitude? You think being 'good' and 'helpful' will turn everything around? Well, it doesn't!" Rin's smirk faded, and her expression was just tired. She was too tired to even feel angry anymore. "Good people never get the rewards they deserve. That's the kind of world you're protecting." Hakuno's expression hardened. Was she upset? Good. This will make things a lot easier. Hakuno walked towards her, and Rin continued to point her finger, ready to shoot. "Do you get it, now? You just have to get rid of anyone who stands in your way." Kill me. Rin's eyes quietly begged. Please let me die. Life has been nothing but hell. Hakuno suddenly punched her, making Rin stumbled backwards. Now that's a pleasant surprise. "Senpai?!" Mash was surprised. "I guess you're not all soft…" Rin spit out some blood, and laughed. "You can pack a punch, who would have thought?" "I jusr figured that you might need a wake up call." Hakuno then pulled Rin by her coat's collar. "So you're just going to let Setanta's death go in vain?! Did everything Orpheus say to you mean nothing? You've tricked Ariadne all this time, and you think you can just get away and not deal with the consequences?" "Yeah. Pretty much." Rin shrugged. "Would be better for us both if you let me just die." "Well if you want to kill yourself so badly, do it when I'm not around!" Hakuno tightened her grip. "I can't let you die." Rin hated this woman. Hakuno's expression looked pained, as if she was trying not to cry. What's with her? Why couldn't she let her die in peace? Everyone Rin has ever loved is dead. "Fine. Let's die together, then." Rin pulled out her gems. "I can make all of these explode right now. I can just take you with me." "Sure you can. You can't even die properly." Hakuno glared at her. "You couldn't even kill me." "What?" "I was barely conscious when we both fell. You had your knife against my throat, and yet you threw the knife away." Rin sighed. "Right… The knife." Before Hakuno could process what she was saying, Rin pushed away and grabbed her knife. "Idiot!" Rin dug the knife into her chest, much to Hakuno and Mash's horror. "You idiot!" Hakuno was quick to catch her. "Mash! Quick let's carry her out of here!" "Didn't think… The last person I'd see was you, but oh well." Rin's chuckle was cut off with a cough. "A lame face to be sure, but at least it's not a Matou. That's a special brand of ugly." "Tohsaka-senpai! Please save your strength!" Mash carefully carried her. "We'll heal you once we get back!" "Idiot… The point is that I don't…" Rin sighed. The sharp pain in her chest made it hard to talk. Oh well. "You won't die!" Hakuno said as they ran. So stubborn. But… So kind as well. Rin smiled, and closed her eyes. She was hoping to see Sakura again, but realistically speaking, she was probably going to hell. Still, it's a nice tought, isn't it? Gathering around with the people she loved under the cherry blossoms? What a nice dream… That would be…

[buckyhad]

On the road

wc: 1674

pairing: Soft!Dark!Billy Hargrove x fem!reader, mentions of Steve Harrington

tw: dub-con, non-con (just for safety), voyeurism (Steve Harrington), public sex, breeding kink, toxic relationship (I think that’s it).

I had like the principal idea for this but while writing it turned totally different, so I hope yall like it, also english it's not my first language so any correction it’s welcome.

Billy met Y/N when he was 18; she was 15 and Max's friend.

He immediately feels in love with her, or what he thinks its love, in his weird ass concept of loving someone who isn't him.

He made sure that everyone in the town knew that she was his, so of course no boy came near her.

When Y/N was 16 Billy started to give her flowers, he was 19 so of course he wasn't going to take her on a date, he still wanted to hook up with other girls, again, weird ass concept of loving.

Y/N turned 17 and Billy decided that it was time to win her mother's heart, so he brought flowers to her mom, and a little car to her brother, her dad wasn't around so it was even easier.

Her mom was fascinated with him, who wouldn't? I mean, he was tall, and charming and has the prettiest hair in the town.

When Y/N turned 18 Billy went crazy, it wasnt even her birthday when he was knocking the door to finally kiss her and took her on their first real date to a restaurant in the center of the town.

Of course everyone was shocked, Billy Hargrove finally setting with a girl? It's not something you see every day.

Their first year went amazing and filled with love.

She has her first time with him, of course he made sure no lame boy touched her, she was his, and he was going to make sure she was his in every aspect.

And thats when everything started to go down the hill.

Billy was angry or drunk almost every day.

He was mad when she talked to another boy, it didn't matter that it was because she was working, he would get angry at her and scream how much of a whore she was. And after that he always hate fucked her. So of course she loved to make him angry.

She decided to quit her job after a while.

And Y/N wasn't that behind him either, while he works at the pool, she sits beside him to make sure neither of those old bitches, as she liked to call them while fighting with him, looked at her boyfriend.

He has been angry with her, but nothing like that day.

He fucking humillated her.

And she loved it.

Its was a hot day and Y/N wanted an ice cream, so she went to the best ice cream shop in Hawkins, first mistake, Steve worked there.

Billy hated Steve, he said it was his worst enemy.

Actually, Steve didn't do shit to him, but anyways, after a few punches, Billy hated him even more.

Y/N entered the shop to order an ice cream, and there was Steve, in his blue uniform, Y/N sighed, praying that Billy didn't see her. She wasn't in the mood to fight with him today.

Billy liked to fuck Y/N in every single place, so she always wore the prettiest little skirts, just like she was doing while shopping.

— Hey Steve!.— she cheered. Steve looked around looking for her crazy boyfriend, sighing happily when he wasn't there.

— Good evening, Y/N.— Y/N and Steve where friends before Billy, he was always with her friend group, almost babysitting them as he says, (actually he loves them a lot) so for him it was really sad seeing one of her kids being in such a toxic relationship.

— I would like a cone please, strawberry ice cream.— she smiled.

— Right away.— He said.

And she never got to eat her ice cream, because there was Billy, driving his blue camaro, stoping when he saw her. Cursing God when her prayer didn't work.

She knew what was coming next, so she smiled at Steve with an apologetic smile.

Billy entered the shop stomping towards her and Steve frowned watching the scene in front of him, and got closer to her just in case, with her cone in hand.

— Here you go, than... —

— I told you to dont fucking speak to him, are you dumb or just too horny to care?.— Billy talked throught his teeth.

— Dont talk to her like that.— Steve tried to interfere

— Its none of your damn bussines.— Billy responded without looking at him.

— I'm just buying something to eat, fuck off.— she stated rolling her eyes.

— Wait in the car.— Billy said to her while looking at Steve.

Y/N handed Steve the money while grabbing her cone and skippin towards the car.

Billy entered the car, not even looking at her.

— Do you want some?.— she said liking her candy.

— Are you dumb? Im serious, I FUCKING TOLD YOU DON'T TALK TO HIM!.— he smacked the steering wheel in between his last four words —Don't roll your eyes at me.— he whispered the last part while grabbing her ice cream and throwing it out the window.

— WHAT THE FUCK IT'S WRONG WITH YOU?.— She screamed and looked at him gasping.

— With me? What it's wrong with me? WHAT ITS WRONG WITH YOU, being a fucking slut all the damn time with every single boy you see.— Billy was driving like a mad man at this point.

— I was literally just buying something to eat, you are crazy, really crazy.—

— You want to be a whore?.— Billy stopped abruptly the car at one side of the road — All right, i'm gonna treat you like one, get out of the car.—

— What? I'm no... —

— It sounded like I was fucking asking? Get out of the car.—

Y/N did as he said, expecting to be left there, but Billy also got out of the camaro and that's when she felt real panic.

— What are you doing?.— she asked shaking a little bit.

— Hands on the hood, and i'm not going to ask you twice.—

Y/N placed both of her hands on the hood and felt her boyfriend standing behind her.

— You know who drives through this road to go to his home? That's right, your little friend Steve. — he said while placing his hand on the back of her neck and pushing her so all her upper body was on top of the car, and leanded to keep talking to her.

— Stop, you're really scaring me.—

— There is no reason to feel scared sugar, you're really going to enjoy while I fuck your brain out in here.— Y/N felt a cold run through her spine, already ashamed of the wet feeling in between her legs.

— No, let go of me, i'm deadass serious.— she wiggle trying to scape him when she started to feel Billy pulling down her underwear.

—Watch your mouth.— he hissed —You know which it's the best part? Steve's shift is over in 5 minutes, so he is probably going to see you get fucked.— he let out a mocking laugh.

— Billy, please, you can fuck me all you want when we get home, please.— she heard the sound of his jean opening.

— I love when you beg me like that, just get me even more horny.—.

Billy let his dick spring out of his boxers, already fully hard with the idea of fucking her girlfriend raw in the middle of the road, and he was even more excited to show Steve that Y/N only belongs to him.

He spitted on his free hand and fisted his cock, tucking at it a little bit preparing himself.

Y/N was still shaking, with shame and anticipation.

He lifted her skirt a little bit, and prodded his tip on her pussy, spreading her wetness and his spit.

— God, always so tight for me.— he said after fully pushing inside her.

He thrusted his hips at a slow pace, and lifted his head when he heard another car, smirking when he recognized it.

— Look who it is sweetcheeks, your friend, say hi to him.— he grabbed her hair making Y/N arch her back and look at Steve, who stopped when he saw Billy. Y/N was just moaning really low while her eyes rolled in her skull.

— What the fuck are you doing? This is fucking illegal Hargrove.— Steve shouted.

— Yeah? Well, too bad, I just couldn't resist my girl you know. Yes, you probably know, because you love to flirt with her.— he powered up his pace making Y/N moan louder.

— You are really sick man, you really are.—

— Im not the one watching his friend get fucked and getting a fucking boner.— he chuckled.

— He is right Stevie, you are real... fuck, really enjoying this.— Y/N talked for the first time in a while. — Fuck i'm going to cum, Billy, please.—. Her boyfriend reached his hand to her front, rubbing her clit.

Steve was just mesmerized with the sight in front of him, frozen in place watching his friend cum.

— Oh dear God, fuck, Billy so good.— he fucked her throuhg her high, overstimulating her — No more, too much, stop.—

— You wanna see me cum too Steve?.— Billy was really getting off in showing power over his girl. — Wanna see me breed her? Cum inside her? Because i'm gonna put a fucking baby inside her, because she is fucking mine.—. Y/N almost screamed while her second orgasm of the evening hit her after Billy talked about putting a baby in her.

— Oh man you really are crazy.— Steve whispered loud enough for them to hear.

Billy came inside her after a few more thrusts, gasping while grabbing Y/N face to give her a depp kiss. Steve was still standing there, horny and shocked, not knowing what to do.

— You can already leave to go touch yourself Steve. Don't talk about this with anyone.— Y/N laughed a little to ease the tension.

— Yeah, yeah, of course.— he rushed inside his car and left as fast as he could.

— Put your underwear back on, and don't stain my car.— Billy tucked himself back in his jeans. — You did really well sugar, I love you so much.— he hugged and kissed his girl.

— I love you too.—.

[sorcerous-caress]

My writing used to be really descriptive and environmental, but I've abandoned that for more a narrative heavy storytelling where a narrator is your window for the world.

And honestly idk, the narrative comes naturally to me, and the descriptive has to be actively put in, I have to train myself to write it each time and squeeze my brain.

It also gets dull with time. there are only so many ways and times I could describe the sun shining in the morning before it gets redundant. but the same can be said for how much I love narrating longing and end up resusing the same phrases.

So far I only describe what I think is important to the environmental telling, unless it has a purpose then I leave it up to the reader to imagine what colour the couch was or what sheets the bed had.

But I didn't realise that readers' default response is just... to keep it blank. if I don't tell them there are curtians then they'll never imagine it, If I don't spell the way the food smelled then they'll never find it delicious, if I don't describe the ways the tree swayed then they'll never get a meter of how windy it is.

I never got criticism or hate comments for it, the opposite, I got compliments on my descriptive works saying how much they could imagine the world clearly, praising how well I've painted it. And those compliments motivate me to try more and put in more effort than a wall of criticism ever could.

I guess I need to hit a balance. "a beautiful webbing" was one of my works where I hit that perfect spot of balance between narration and environmental telling, but also that fic was a special case, a project I held immense passion for and it seems exhausting to have to do that to each fic especially with how i need to post at least once every three days.

ik quality over quantity and all but let's be realistic, this is fanfiction and not every story is a one I want to be top tier quality. not everyone wants to read an S tier fic, sometimes the B and C tier are absolutely preferable and easier on the mind. like a snack, there are many of them and they get to the poin faster.

I hate people who claim they're hard to please in fanfiction and only read completed works with 20+ chapters and 60k words. Who demand perfection for free and are proud of it whilst being willfully ignorant of how each type of fic shines differently. Not everyone wants to tell a story the same way, one shots are not less superior than multie chaptered works.

Your preference isn't superior to everyone else's, that one shot you glossed over could've been the most in character thing every written in the history of the fandom. Could've told a complex story through a couple lines. I've always admired people who can say so much in so little, who can summerise long paragraphs in multiple words.

It could also just be an average normal one shot, and that's fine and okay and is absolutely someone's preference. A lot of people like comfort snacks to enjoy.

Anyway the point is. I will try to get more descriptive, i try to avoid watching writing guides or reading about writing tips and tricks. The advice they give is really generic and I find that it boxes you in this regressive view of how writing should be. No matter how good the advice is, If it gets too overwhelming and it feels like you're doing nothing right then please take a step back and ignore everything everyone else has ever said.

Art is you, it's expression and communication. You want to feel it so you make it, you want to tell it so you share it. That's all, that's the end.

Be it erotica, crack fics, alternative universe or whatever. No one in this world can make it like you, it's fully personalised to your own mind and no one in this life could tell that story but you.

Oh I also have a clear lack of dialogue, I feel like it's one of the trickiest things to write because how easily it could break characters. How I have to keep spreadsheets analysing the way each character speaks.

Which, there are no spreadsheets, btw. I keep it in my mind.

Take Minthara for example, she is direct, forward and orders things. She never says "I think" or "maybe" she never asks either, she demands.

She wouldn't say "I hope we don't lose" instead she'd phrase it as "We will emerge victorious."

She likes using complex or flourishy words but never like Gale or Wyll, their type of flourish is entirely different and means to honey the words, whilst Minthara's mean to make the sentence more regal, aristocratic rather than noble. She uses them deliberately to show off statues while Gale uses them to show off intelligence, and Wyll does it for charm and theatrical poetry.

She doesn't take shortcuts either. She doesn't say "don't." Instead she separates it to "Do not." And forces you to listen to her long phrases, a small form of power play where she never makes herself or words smaller, she always uses them fully as they are.

And I have to do this for each character, you see how exhausting this easily can be. How every character also speaks as if they're from a different time. Karlach speaks more modernly but it's never like the common people talk in bg3, so she just...has access to modern dialogue and phrases for some reason?

Astarion never speaks like he is 200 years old either, not like an elf either. Halsin speaks like an elf, Cazador speaks like an elf, but not Astarion for some reason, and I have to keep that in mind.

Wyll is the easiest to write because his way of speech flows so well with my own writing, they compliment each other. Unlike how jarring Karlach dialogue in one of my fics.

Shadowheart is a character who uses filler words a lot, stalling or just uncertainty? She uses "I think, Maybe, is that so, I don't know but, I guess." Inbetween her sentences.

Maybe it's bc of the gaps in her memory? But it works in her favourite because I just need to remove the filler words whenever I want her to appear serious or whenever I want to flush out an important moment, it brings attention subtly to how reassured she is of her self.

Lae'zel speaks her heart in a way, she vocalises her observations to others and they take it as either criticism or praise when it's most likely that she meant neither and is just observing. Honestly to make it simpler, Lae'zel speaks autisticly which I relate to a lot, and which is why so many misunderstandings happen around her character when people assume she is mean or making fun of them when in reality she is indifferent and saying her thoughts loud and clear as they are.

People don't usually do that, they don't express their feelings as directly as Lae'zel. They hint it at, subtly or they play it down or exaggerate it. Lae'zel does neither, she speaks directly from the source and every word is deliberately chose and is exactly what she meant it.

But people aren't used to that, taking words at face value. And because they're used to people exaggerating or down playing their words, they assume Lae'zel is doing the same and filter her words through the same social protocol which ends up making her look too horny or too mean when she is neither. They needlessly attach meanings to her words that weren't there and complain about the results that they themselves made up when she already delivered the final results herself.

Astarion speaks like a 13-year-old who just learned what irony and sarcasm are. But put it through a modern dracula adaptation Snapchat filter, and you get the final results. He thinks he comes off as smooth, and sometimes he does, but it mostly falls flat and he comes off as johhny bravo.

His looks are what's important here, since they more than make up for his failure in words. Much like most of Edward Cullens lines were absolutely wild but because a sexy vampire was saying it then suddenly it becomes palatable.

But Astarion has his moments in relatablity. He is by far the most relatable character in dialogue. He says what we all wanted to say, but we didn't just to save face. He makes the crude jokes, he makes the sex innuendos andpenis dagger lame puns.

He also screams at the word and calls out. He also curses back at the gods who dammned him. He embraces his rage and resentment and expresses it without any shame. He lets the smooth facade fall and claws at the other performers on the stage of life as his own masks start to crack down. The only thing Astarion has ever been fully honest about is his own wrath, it's the single unpolished spot on his perfect surface, the single crack in his procline mask.

And there is something about how a one can't describe Astarion without resorting to poetry, how it writes itself at certain points because just like the sea, he is as beautiful as he is ruthless, as tender as the crashing waves against the jagged rocks, as fleeting as the dissipating sea foam receading back from the shore.

He can never be broken much like the fluid water can never snap. And it's this burning flame behind his failed flirting that pulls you in, the sparks of his passion that slip through that make his lame lines actually work, that make him so enticing.

[betweenthings2]

love love love your writing! the first thing of yours I read was Second Letter From St Julien and I’ve reread it multiple times. sending you colossal amounts of love, appreciation, applause, gratitude, warmth, flowers, confetti hearts… and a request for prompt 19 (for luck) please? <3

Thank you!! I'm so glad you liked St. Julien! I wrote it at the beginning of my semester abroad (also when I saw The 1975 for the first time) and I was lonely and super anxious and listening to a lot of Sorority Noise which is partly why it's so sad, but it was inspired in part by a piece of writing I found on Pinterest of all places rather along with the Sorority Noise song I took the title from.

Anyway, here's A Kiss...for luck.

Matty isn't entirely sure what to do with himself. They're about to be back on stage for the first time in almost a year, for the first time since he fucked it all up, and he is painfully, upsettingly sober. There's no weed, no wine, no nothing, just nicotine, but nicotine feels a whole lot like oxygen for him a this point, and his hands are shaking, and he's going to make a fool of himself, again, he's going to make fools out of all of them, again, if he can't get it together, because shaking hands fumble chords and oh, god, this is about to be a disaster.

Matty is aware that he's spiraling. He's been spiraling a lot more lately, forced to always be in his own head. Just one, he thinks. Just one hit, one drink, one pill and he'd be fine. He doesn't want to relapse--he's done that and the guilt and misery is just about more than he can handle--he just wants, needs, something to make this easier. He hasn't been on stage in almost a year, but prior to that, he hadn't been on stage sober in years. He knows everyone around him knows that, but he knows it too much now and why had he told everyone he needed a few minutes on his own? He doesn't know how to dig himself out of these spirals on his own.

It would be easy to ask for someone to come be with him. It would be easy because he knows that someone, everyone, is on the other side of the dressing room door, because everyone had taken one look at his restless pacing and shaking hands and decided that if he really needed his alone time, he could have it in a dressing room with someone on the other side of the door in case. In case. Matty hates that phrase, hates that it gets applied to him, hates that everyone thinks he needs a fucking babysitter in case.

Finally, finally, finally, when Matty thinks he's actually about to go crazy, George knocks on the door and come in. Thank god for George. His gaze lands on Matty, in his frantic, spiraling, pacing and he softens and closes the door softly behind him.

Gently, he says, "Matty."

"I'm ok," Matty chokes out. "I'm fine, I'm sober, we're gonna play a show. I'm ok."

"C'mere," George says.

Matty does as George asks, practically collapsing against his chest and letting out a very long breath when George hugs him.

"There ya go," George murmurs. "Everything's ok."

"It's not ok. I'm not ok. We haven't been on stage in, like, a year and I haven't been on stage sober in actual years and my hands won't stop shaking and you had someone standing outside the door in case I decide to take off and I don't need a fucking babysitter, except that maybe I kind of do, and-"

"Matty," George cuts in shifting so he can look Matty in the eye, "you're spiraling."

"I know that," Matty mutters, gaze falling to the floor. Still, someone else having said it takes some of the wind from his sails and he manages another deep breath. "I can't help it."

"How can I help?" George asks.

Matty shrugs and repeats, "I haven't been on stage sober in years."

George nods, leaving space for Matty to continue.

"What if I'm shit? What if everything falls apart?"

"We kept things together when you were high out of your mind. I've got faith in you. Have some faith in me, too. Have some faith in Ross and Hann."

Matty takes a hitched breath, like he might start crying, and says, "I don't know how to do it like this."

"You know the songs. You wrote those songs. We made those songs, you and me. You know them."

"That's not what I mean. I mean that I don't know how to be on stage sober. I don't know how to have all those people looking at me." Matty pauses, then continues, "When I was using, they were looking at me, but they weren't looking at me, they were looking at a fucking mess. Now it's just me and if I fuck it up it's because I'm a fuck up."

"You're not a fuck up, Matty. How many times have I made mistakes on stage? Ross? Hann?"

Matty shrugs, petulant. Part of him wants to hide here, feeling sorry for himself.

"We all make mistakes all the time," George continues. "No one notices. I promise you no one notices."

Matty doesn't say anything. George is right.

"It's gonna be ok. You're gonna be great. You are great."

"'s just," Matty pauses. "I'm supposed to be better now. I'm supposed to be all better and just fine, but I don't really feel all better." There's another pause, then, "I'm afraid I can't do this anymore."

"You're the only person who doesn't believe you can do this," George tries. "I know you can do this, but if it turns out you need more time or something needs to change, then we'll make it happen, but you don't know until you try, right?"

Matty nods and echoes, "Right."

And George smiles, brilliant, and asks, "You ready then?"

Matty nods, so George guides him towards the door of the dressing room, pausing just before he opens it to lean down and kiss Matty hard.

"You're gonna be great," George promises when they separate slightly.

Matty nods slightly again, so they head out of the dressing room and towards the stage. Just before they go on, Matty pulls George in for one more kiss, and explains, "For luck," when they separate.

It's a good show.