#spelling his name is a struggle every single time i do it

[mekonfoy]

wip wednesday!

I believe I was tagged by @unknownhomosapien a while ago and now I finally have a wip to show!

here's our beloved son and his college boyfriend on a verge of discovery that will change the world forever (they're about to invent energy drinks)

on a side note, did anyone figure out what his shirt is supposed to look like? I genuinely don't understand its collar

tagging @unknownhomosapien back, @lycansoffspring and @aaronizio <3

[retroactivebakeries]

It is almost five centuries ago, and the girl who will one day be a swordswoman is lying in the red-tinged mud. She can't get up—broken bone? severed tendon? She can't tell. She's yet to cultivate her palate for pain. Her enemy towers over her, a cataphract mailed in screaming steel and poisoned light. His warhammer falls, and it is death, forever death, death unconquered and unconquerable.

"No," says a part of her. She is not even seventeen years old. Her body is mangled and broken, wound piled upon wound piled upon wound. A dull kitchen knife is her only weapon, though she lost that in the mud the second her grip faltered. Her enemy is no thing of this earth. And yet—

"No. It is not death, forever death, death unconquered and unconquerable. It is only a hammer, falling. It is only 'an attack.'"

And the girl understood.

~~~

It is the better part of three centuries ago, as best the swordswoman can reckon, and she is beset on all sides by foes. They are not monsters—just mountain bandits, or highland rebels, as one cares to see it. But they outnumber her by dozens, and even an exceptional swordswoman might struggle against but two opponents of lesser skill.

From in front of her, beside her, behind her they advance, striking from every angle with spears and blades and axes. Others fill the air with arrows, sling stones, firepots. It would be effortless, to parry any single blow. It would be impossible, physically impossible, to defend against them all.

"No," says a part of her.

"You are not outnumbered. You do not face 'multiple' foes. It would be impossible to defend against every attack — but there is no 'every' attack. Only one."

"Oh," the swordswoman said. And it was, in fact, effortless.

~~~

It is eighty years ago, or thereabouts. A coiling spire of stony flesh and verdigrised copper throbs like a tumor on the horizon, coaxed from the earth by spell and sacrifice. It is the tower of a sorcerer-prince, and a birthing place of abominations.

Seven locks of rune-etched metal are opened with her single key. Wretched shapeling beasts, grown by sorcery in vitreous nodules, flee wailing from her, absconding before she even draws her blade. Demons sworn to thousand-year pacts of service find the binding provisions of their agreements unexpectedly severed.

These things dissatisfy the sorcerer-prince. He waxes wroth. He makes signs of power and chants incantations. With a flask of godling's blood, he draws the binding sigil inscribed upon the moon's dark face. With cold fire burning in his eyes, he speaks the secret name of Death. It is a king among curses, all-corrupting, all-consuming, and it falls from his lips upon the swordswoman.

"No," she says, and she turns it aside with her blade.

The sorcerer-prince's brow furrows. How did she even do that?

"Parried it."

But—

"With my sword."

No—

"See, like this."

Stop—

"Well," the swordswoman finally says, "I figured that if I just...looked at it right, and thought about it, and construed your curse as a kind of attack...then I could block it."

That's not how it works at all!

"If you insist," says the swordswoman, shrugging, and decapitates him.

~~~

It is now. It is the end. Death couldn't take the swordswoman, not when she'd spent all her life cutting it up. At times, Death might sidle up to one of her friends, or peer down into a grandchild's crib, and she'd just give it a look. That's all it took, by then.

Heartache couldn't take her, either. Bad things happened to her, and they hurt, and she lived in that hurt, but if it was ever more than she could take...she'd just, move her sword in a way that's difficult to describe. And she'd keep going.

Kingdoms fell, and she kept going. Continents crumbled and sank into the sea. Her planet's star faded and froze. She started carrying a lantern. Universes were torn apart and scattered, until all that had been matter was redistributed in thermodynamic equilibrium. With one exception.

But now it is the end. There is no time left; time is already dead. The swordswoman has outlived reality, but there is simply no further she can go. This is not a thing that can be blocked. This is the absence of anything further to block.

"No," says the girl who will one day be a swordswoman. "This isn't the ending. And even if it was, it's not the ending that matters."

The swordswoman looks back at who she was, at the countless selves she's been between them. She looks forward, at the rapidly contracting point that remains of the future. She grasps the all of linear time in her mind, and sees that it is shaped like a spear.

[theliteraryarchitect]

Hi! I wanted to say, I read that you are a professional editor, and think it's amazing! You also give very logical and well explained advice. I was wondering; would you say being an editor is a job you can support yourself with? I actually aspire to become one someday, but I'm not exactly sure if it's a good plan.

Thank you for your time, and I hope you have a good day/night

Hey there. Great question. It's totally possible to support yourself as an editor. I've done it, and so have other editors I know. However there are a few important things to consider before choosing editing as a career path.

Your chances of being a self-employed freelancer are extremely high. The number of in-house editing jobs in publishing are low and getting lower. While being self employed can give you a certain amount of flexibility, it also comes along with a lot of hustle and hassle, namely fluctuating income, a stupid amount of confusing tax paperwork, and the need to constantly promote yourself to clients in order to maintain steady work.

You probably won't make as much money as you'd think. Editing is one of the many skilled jobs that suffers from market saturation, which has sadly driven down the price the average client is willing to pay for editing services. I can't tell you the number of overqualified editors I know charging barely more than minimum wage for their work. Personally I've stuck to my guns about charging what I'm worth, but I've sometimes suffered by not having as much work as my colleagues who charge less.

Robots have already chipped away at the future of editing as a human occupation, and will continue to do so at exponential speed in the years ahead. They will never obliterate the job completely, as there will always be humans who prefer to work with humans instead of machines. But the outlook will become ever bleaker as more humans compete for fewer gigs, which in turn will drive down prices even further.

If you are also a writer, editing may adversely affect your writing. I don't mean that you'll become a worse writer, quite the opposite. My editing work has brought new depths to my writing, and I'm grateful for all I've learned by working with my clients. However, editing takes time, uses creative energy, and requires staring at a screen (or paper), and personally the more I edit, the less time/creativity/screen-staring capabilities I have left for my own writing.

If you mention you're an editor, someone will troll your post for a typo, grammatical error, or misused word, and then triumphantly point it out to you in the comments. This is mostly a joke. But it does happen every single time.

I hope this hasn't been too discouraging. If you feel a true passion for editing and really enjoy the work, none of the above should dissuade you. However, if you think you might be happy in any number of occupations, I'd honestly advise you to explore other options. Choosing a career path at this point in history is a gamble no matter what, but the outlook for editors is especially grim.

If you'd like to work with writers and aren't attached to being an editor, there are a few jobs (still freelance) that I believe will survive the coming robot apocalypse. Do a little Google research about "book coaches," "writing coaches," or "book doulas." These are people who act primarily as emotional supporters and logistical helpers for writers who are trying to get their book published or self published. Some of them do actual editing, but many do not, and due to the therapeutic nature of their work I believe they will flourish longer than editors in the coming robot apocalypse.

If you do explore editing as a path, the further away you can lean from spelling and grammar (e.g. proofreader or copyeditor), the longer your skills will be useful when competing with robots. AI still struggles to offer the same kind of nuanced, story-level feedback that a human can give. (Speaking from experience here--I'm a developmental editor and have yet to see a dent in my workload because of robots.) They'll catch up eventually, but it could be a while, and as long as there are human readers, there will always be humans who are willing to pay for a human perspective on their writing. Human spell checkers maybe not so much.

Hope this helps!

[thetxtdevil]

Royal Guard pt. 1

Taehyun x Reader

Inspired by the author @page-matcha

Royal!fem!reader touching herself late at night in her personal chambers while guard!taehyun stands outside her door at his post hearing every single noise you let out. But he's forced to stay outside and stay in his spot.

this was just so good that i had to write something.

content: smutty, royal!fem!reader, guard!taehyun, female masturbation, slight perv tae, my grammar and spelling has left the building a long time ago…

word count: 1.5k

you were the most exquisite maiden of the palace. effortlessly wearing the tightest corset with the most intricate embroidery and gowns that swayed with every move you made. you had people's heads turning, girls wanted to be you, men wanted you. being the kingdom's only princess was the cherry on top. however, with the outmost beauty you had, it left people astonished with your lack of husband even lack of courting.

spending time with your friends in the garden next to the palace. they were chatty and you found it entertaining.

"ooo he's cute." one of your friends points out a gentlemen.

the others giggle and agree while you smile at him but ignore the opportunity.

"ugh come on y/n you have to be interested in someone"

"you cannot force love it just has to happen" you say calmly as your eye up a batch of tulips.

your friends roll their eyes and they continue to look at bachelors. you were pretty but you were also smart. you are not going to settle with a simple man you had to find the perfect one. as a princess you were also a romantic and needed some romance in your life.

having enough of the hot sun and your loud friends you retire to the castle. a few maids surround you, one giving you water to drink, the other patting down a cool towel on you. your eye then catches a familiar face, a guard that the queen, your mother, tends to trust the most. he looked like he had a mission to get somewhere and wanting to know where your mother is you rushed to him after thanking the maids. you pick up your floor length gown so you could speed walk to the guard.

"excuse me"

the guard instantly stops and turns to you.

"yes you majesty"

surprised by his quickness and his great features you struggle to remember what you were about to ask.

"if you're wondering about the queen's whereabouts she is in the library, please don't mind my assumptions"

you smile lightly to him "i was wondering that"

"i was about to go there, would you like me to escort you?" the guard says while sticking his arm out for you to hold onto

"yes, i would like that very much" you smile at him again "and remind me your name"

"i am lieutenant general taehyun your majesty"

as you both arrive the library taehyun opens the door for you. you thank him before you were greeted by your queen mother's presence. you walk towards her.

"nice to see my beautiful tulip, grab a book a read with me"

you gladly do as she says and start looking for a novel. the cathedral windows light up the tall shelves of books, twirling around you settle on one area. looking closely at the titles of the books, you set your eye on one. reaching up to grab it you find your height betrays you. next thing you know a hand reaches high than yours to grab the spine of the book.

you look over at your hero which turns out to be taehyun. "thank you"

"you're welcome princess, my i say you picked a good book"

"that's good to hear, it look interesting"

you look up at the man who's looking at you with such warmth. you can't help but get lost in his big brown eyes. butterflies start to flutter in your stomach. you mother glances from her book to see you and her trusted guard. she smirks to herself keeping her thoughts to self and continues reading.

taehyun's puppy eyes suddenly turn into a stone-cold gaze as he realizes he was staring at the princess for an inappropriate amount of time.

"enjoy your book my princess" he says bowing to you

you head towards the lounge chairs you mother was laying on. every now and then you would glance at the guard feeling those butterflies again.

"i have an event in the palace tonight, would you like to join?"

you look over at your mother sighing. you go to so many events as your duty being a princess it can get tiring.

"I would like to politely decline"

besides your mind had other things to do tonight. you mother softly pinches your cheek as she smiles at you accepting your decline.

---

the sun was setting from your library day with your queen mother. you have parted ways a long time ago to do your own things. your mother was looking over what has already been prepared for the event of the night. as she straighten out the fabrics upon the table an idea pops into her head.

raising her hand for a guard to come she says "can you bring lieutenant general taehyun to me"

taehyun was outside the palace yard looking over the horses, testing their fitness and skills. he notices a fellow guard rushing to him.

"the queen summons thee"

guard taehyun rushes through the dimly lit castle halls. he finally gets to the ballroom being used tonight. the queen was talking to the maids and butler as she gets a glimpse of the guard.

"your highness"

"hello taehyun, I have an assignment for you tonight"

"yes your highness, anything I will do for you"

"can you be princess y/n's chamber guard tonight?"

taehyun gulps, he was about to question his presense on the event but decides to settle the conversation.

"will do, your highness" he bows and starts towards your chamer.

---

as he arrives the current guard informs him that you had just finished your bath. taehyun then tells the guard that their duty is now to look over the ballroom. your chamber doors are open wide revealing to taehyun the beautiful architecture of your room. wide windows that look over the kingdom one side and a big lake on the other side. your bed was in the middle with purple silk sheets and pastel color drapes encapsulating it.

you walk out with a towel in your hand drying your hair. you gasp as you see a man in your room but relax when you see it was the very handsome guard taehyun.

"sorry to scare you, your majesty, i am your guard tonight"

"oh" you say shyly

"is there something wrong?"

"no, i was just hoping to have alone time tonight"

"do not worry about me your majesty i will be just outside your chamber doors

you nod at him with a small smile. taehyun stares at you, admiring the silk slip you're wearing that matched your bedding. he straighten his posture when he caught himself glancing at the curves of your breasts. he bows to you and walks outside the chamber hiding from your sight but still within range.

you blush at the guards lingering gazes. once he was out of sight you threw your towel and fall down on your bed. you felt relaxed not having to worry about being a proper princess at the moment. fully getting into bed you open your book and start reading it, but as you're reading the feeling of butterflies keep filling your stomach. you can't help but imagine guard taehyun's handsome features being close to you again. letting those big veiny hands roam your pristine body.

you let your hand caress your breast you lean your head back on your plush pillows. your book forgotten, you let your hand fill up your sore breast from the very tight corset making a few soft sighs leave your lips. your legs were rubbing together trying to create friction on your soaking heat. you slide your dominate hand down to your already bare cunt. middle finger slipping against your folds making you sigh once more.

taehyun was a vigilant guard watching over every atom outside your personal chamber, but then he hears a small noise. he dismisses the fact until he hears it again, he walks across the rooms door trying to see if anyone is around the corner, but there was no one. as he gets back to his post he glances into your room. there he sees the most unholy sight of your pretty thighs spread apart showing off your fucked out face, your breasts bouncing from you fucking yourself with your fingers.

it takes a lot out of tae to stop himself from going into your chambers and replacing your small digits with his. with his greatest strength he goes back to his guarding spot.

there he stands there listening to every moan, whine, and whimper coming out of your pretty lips.

there he stands getting uncomfortably hard against his suit. forced to stay outside, forced to stay loyal and protective.

read -> pt. 2

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil + @page-matcha

[frankoceanluvrr]

𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 — 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑

pairing : fem!reader x peter parker

warnings : arguing, angst, swearing, insults, being harsh, english isn’t my first language, urdu is! so please tell me about grammatical errors like spelling and punctuation as those i struggle with! plz lmk if u feel as if there are anymore i should list :)

summary : first argument as a couple, heavily inspired by the infamous amy march line, “you’re being mean.”

a/n : you can imagine any peter for this btw! it’s not specifically mcu peter, im just using this gif for reference !

“Peter, are you okay?” Your voice quiet, looking at the boy.

Peter was sat on the end of your bed, fingers pinching the top of his nose in annoyance. It was one of those months where everything felt as if it were going wrong. It was overwhelming. He felt trapped. Scared. He attempted to slow his breathing pattern down as he thought of what to say to you. You had invited him in, and he barely said a word. You could tell something had been wrong this month, so you had been trying your best to cheer him up, but nothing seemed to work.

“Do I look okay to you? God, use your fucking brain for once [Name].” He eventually huffed out, still looking down and not really processing what he said.

You took a deep breath, you didn’t want to fight him. In an attempt to be mature, you disregarded the whole comment as a whole.

“Will you just tell me what happened?” You sighed, trying your hardest to stay calm.

“I just- you wouldn’t understand. You don’t have responsibilities like me, don’t act like you have any idea of what it’s like either.” He spat, eventually looking up to see your whole body tense up, “you’ve been nothing but a burden, [Name]. All these ‘attempts’ to help me wont do anything except waste your time.”

“What is wrong with you?” You quickly replied, throwing all attempts to be mature out the window, “A burden? A burden who’s opened her door for you every single time you’ve been like this? Or how about the multiple occasions ‘the burden’ dropped everything to help you everytime you asked? I’m so so sorry I cared, Peter. Would you have rathered to suffer alone?”

You were fighting back tears, you began to look up and fold your lips ever so slightly.

“Oh? You’re the one who comes to my rescue? You have got to be kidding me [Name], you seriously did not just say that,” He chuckled, but it was purely bitter, “I have to look out for you constantly because you don’t know any better. You always need reassurance. It’s such an inconvenience for me. At least my problems when I come to you are actually worth something, yours are always something so minor you stress about like crazy. Don’t get me started—”

“Stop it, you’re being mean.” You breathed, meeting his hard gaze with your tearful one, “I never knew you saw me as an inconvenience.”

“No, no- I’m sorry—”

“Please leave.” You wiped a tear coming from your eye, passing him his bag.

“[Name], I got carried away, I’m so sorry. I was just, frustrated I didn’t mean anything I said” He pleaded, sincerity riddled through his tone.

“I know, but please leave.”

And with that, he left.

[neuroticbookworm]

FRIENDS. FRIENDS.

Cooking Crush is undoubtedly one of the best shows airing at the moment.

Today's episode gave me so much life that I don't even know where to begin, but I'm gonna try my best to pull two (2) coherent thoughts out of my melting brain.

1. The Three Must-Eat-eers Conflict and Resolution:

Last episode had set up such a perfect conflict that's rarely handled well in any media: the bruised feelings of the single friend when the rest of the gang gets into committed romantic relationships. Most of the time this scenario shows up in media, one party will be framed as selfish and/or jealous. None of that nonsense here; Cooking Crush has always taken the friendship of its characters very seriously, especially Prem, Dynamite and Samsee. Samsee’s feelings were hurt not just because of his own fears of being abandoned by his friends, he was also (rightfully) mad that he ended up as the only friend who was kept out of the loop of knowing that his best friends had boyfriends now. But Prem and Dynamite did not intend to do this, and they were also right to set their own pace in making their relationship public, but it’s just that the string of accidental reveals happened in an order that made Samsee feel like a third-wheeler in his own home, twice over.

Cooking Crush treats its characters with a lot of kindness and empathy and it shows. Prem and Dy wanting to keep their relationships under wraps for the time being is valid. Samsee feeling hurt and lost, and opting out of the competition is valid. This episode begins with the drama of the cooking competition and works its comedy (thank you for the chuckles, wildly gesticulating White Man) and romance (my poor heart swooned all over my rib cage when Ten helped Prem into his chef clothes). And when the time came for the big reconciliation, the show does not sweep away Samee’s very hurt feelings just because Prem and Dy struggled without Samsee for most of the first round of cooking. He apologizes for ditching them and Dy was having none of it.

(Dy, my perfect child, oh how I love you with my entire heart)

Perfect resolution. and a well-earned, most adorable group hug to bookend it. I truly could not be more in love with this show. Or can I?

2. Miscommunication? Nah.

Well, this episode also featured the Annoying Asshole Chef dude who’s determined to pursue Prem even though it is very clear that Prem is not interested and would reject his advances, if only he stuck around long enough to actually get rejected and not run away from him like a goddamn coward. I was furious when he positioned himself as an actual option for Prem to Ten in this episode, and thoroughly enjoyed every moment Ten chose to call him out on his bullshit.

But y’all. The very inappropriate hug. The well-deserved punch to his stupid face. The storm-off. All of it had me very concerned that this is all barrelling towards a classic miscommunication moment.

BUT NO.

THE SHOW SAID THERE WILL BE NO STUPID MISCOMMUNICATION.

NOT IN THIS HOUSE.

My problem with the miscommunication trope is that it ultimately positions the couple we are supposed to be rooting for as a weak team. Honest communication and vulnerability in a new-ish relationship is not easy, and it takes a lot of courage to take that step to be the one to spell out the facts, and trust that the other person likes them well enough to keep an open ear, and believe them when they say a meddling cowardly asshole is trying to get in the way of their relationship. Ten’s bravery was perfectly contrasted with the sliminess of the Annoying Cowardly Chef (I refuse to learn his name, he is not worth my braincells).

Oh but Ten wasn’t done yet!

I absolutely adore how he moves the conversation away from that pesky little pest of a human towards something that matters more: his desire to make things official with Prem. The Annoying Asshole Chef was not the focus of the conversation, Ten and Prem are. And it all culminates in an incredible kiss and a camera swoop that already has a permanent little shrine in my silly little head.

TAKE MY HEART, COOKING CRUSH. TREAT IT WELL.

[blueteller]

Hi, dear cool person! Do you happen to know if all magic circles in lcf are drawn on the ground or if some types can be done in the air? Do they need a physical surface for them to work? I got a little confused by that and couldn't find an explanation yet (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

Hello, "dear cool person"! 😊 I admit, no one ever brought up that kind of question to me, and I think it's worth investigating!

First of all, to make things clear: TCF/LCF uses what we call "Soft Magic System". In other word, the rules concerning magic are vague, without much elaboration from the narrative – which I have to add, does NOT equal poor world-building.

People often toss around Fullmetal Alchemist as an example of good world-building (which everybody who knows me is probably aware, is one of my favorite series of all time), without understanding that FMA uses "Hard Magic System" as it plays a vital role in the story. How alchemy works is very important to the plot and its themes. While my inner nerd absolutely loves it, I must remind myself that it's not a required element for a story to be well crafted. There are many series which go into great detail about their magic systems, but that doesn't actually guarantee it will be successful in making the story enjoyable.

"Soft" or "Hard" magical world-building, what actually matters is how it's used.

So, in TCF we are dealing with "Soft Magic System", because how magic works is never actually important to the story itself; what the characters are doing matters far more than what exact tools and powers they're using. The "what" of their capabilities is always more emphasized over the "how".

Obviously, we know some of what magic can do, as we get many example throughout the series. We also know that there are multiple other powers in that world aside from mana-based magic. For example, regular magic can be used to create fire, cast illusions, teleport, levitate objects, and even for telepathic communication. Dead mana magic can be also used in similar ways, like casting illusions or creating light. There are also powers of Nature, Beast People abilities, Earth Abilities, Divine Powers, and quite a few of others.

But the question is about arrays specifically. Let's try to find a couple of examples to work with.

We know that circles CAN be drawn, at the very least. The earliest instance of an array being used was way back during the Plaza Terror Incident, when blood-crazy mage Redika tore up a teleportation scroll to escape the plaza. So we see that certain spells can be pre-made and are one-use only, which makes sense. Not everyone seems capable of teleportation, especially long-distance. Remember, Dragons are super rare and the fact that Cale has basically unlimited access to instant teleportation through Raon is basically cheating lol. I assume it's both difficult and expensive to create even a single scroll like that. It requires lots of effort and preparation, not to mention it's set for a given location – the word "coordinates" is often dropped throughout the story.

We also know that circles can be created through magic in an instance, as that's basically what Raon and Eruhaben do every time they teleport. But once again, they're Dragons, so I assume you have to be Arch Mage level to do that type of stuff without literally drawing the array. Definitely not something Redika was capable of. I also suspect Rosalyn could do that, but that's because she's a rare talent of her own – not to mention how Eruhaben taught her on top of it.

I struggle to find any example of array-based magic that ISN'T about teleportation, however. Perhaps all arrays ARE meant exclusively for transportation in TCF? Feel free to correct me if you find any evidence to the contrary. Another example that comes to my mind is when they were teleporting the Castle of Light, later re-named Black Castle, into the Forest of Darkness. We know it required a huge amount of power, which was why Eruhaben asked Cale for magic stones. We didn't actually SEE them cast the array, however, so we don't know if they literally needed to draw one around the castle, or if they used their Dragon powers again to simply make it with magic.

There are several conclusions I draw from all of this.

First, most if not all examples of array-based magic in TCF are teleportation-related. So either all arrays are about teleportation, or teleportation is a very complex brand of magic (which would make sense) and arrays are exactly for that type complex magic, so they could be also used for other things.

Second, it seems that drawing arrays is a "human method", but it is unnecessary for Dragons, as they can use magical shortcuts. So naturally, I don't think they need a solid surface to work with when they're casting spells.

Third, arrays can be either instantly used and created – if you're powerful enough that is – or they can be pre-made and "loaded", then used for emergencies via deliberate disruption. I also assume you don't need to be a mage to use a teleportation scroll, if it already contains all the magic needed.

And that's basically all I have to say about magic circles in TCF! I hope this was helpful 💖

[enbysiriusblack]

marauder characters who are absolute losers because there is such a coolification of characters that i kinda hate:

remus lupin (soppy wet man <3 trips over himself at the mere mention of sirius. has named every single sheep on the field next to his home. the tweed and elbow patch and ugly knitted sweater wearer ever)

regulus black (has yet to realise rules are actually breakable. the library is his favourite place. makes lists for every single little thing and neatly organises them in folders and binders. is never not thinking about classical pianists or true crime)

marlene mckinnon (has absolutely no filter or understanding in how to interact with other people. will ramble about a type of broomstick used in a quidditch game in 1463 for 5 hours. the most jealous and competitive person you will ever meet)

barty crouch jr (cares about his academics more than life itself. mummy's boy. panics over his exams. has yet to meet a bug and not classify it and jot info about it in his little bug book)

lily evans (the rare popular loser. avidly interested in most of her classes to the point she'll stay behind after class just to talk about the material with the teacher for fun. accidental teacher's pet. watched star wars more than ten times. read the hobbit more than twenty times)

peter pettigrew (he wouldn't be seen as a loser now, but def was in the 70s. obsessed with crystals and random stones. chess club captain. reads every superman comic. the dyslexia is strong with this one (i just wanted to make a star wars joke, his dyslexia doesn't really have anything to do with him being a loser, although some classmates would make fun of his struggling when reading and spelling)

[alice-angel12x]

Death isn't so scary

Lilia x Death! reader

(behold my amateur photoshop skills)

Lilia had lived a very long life, and had seen many things come and go. The world was constantly changing, spells, technology, and even fashion statements were different in a flash. Yet There was one thing, or one person who never changed, not even time could change them, other than the names they went by.

Lilia could remember clearly as day the first time they saw Y/n of Death. It was during the war between Humans and Fea. In one of the battles the humans faced a humiliating loss, and General Lilia and his army reviled in their victory. When he noticed a lone figure on the field. Draped in a dark cloak, with chains tied around the hip that two scythes dangled from their hip.

The young cocky warrior Lilia thought the figure was a single surviving human left. With a smirk, he decided to scare the life out of this human. So with his large jade buster blade, teleported above and tried to slam down on the figure.

Only for the figure to stop the blade with one of their scythes. Lilia struggled to force the sword down or break free from the entanglement. But the scythe's curved blade caught the silver vines that wrapped around Lilia's own. Yet the figure stood perfectly still as the continued to block the blade.

"Your quite strong for a mortal, where were you when your friends needed you," Lilia smirked as his allies gathered around.

"Your a bit late human," The general mocked, as the rest laughed.

"Do not laugh," The figure scoffed. " DO NOT BE PROUD OF THIS MASSACRE!!"

With one swift movement, the figure sent the small Fae troop flying.

________________________________________

I remember clearly when they warned us Fae that we greatly underestimate humans. And that they will be back for us soon. Of course in my youth I did not believe them.

Yet their promise would soon be fulfilled as the humans started getting stronger. I began to lose my friends and allies left and right, with that eerie whistle haunting me every step of the way.

Eventually, both sides came to a draw, much to Fae kinds Ego. The thought of even acknowledging humans disgusted them. I wasn't the same after the war. We Fae live for so long that we forget that ultimately we are all powerless to death.

One night, when I went out to mourn the loss of my allies. When I noticed a familiar figure in the distance. I silently approached as I watched them pay their respects to the fallen. I could even see the sparkle of tears run down their face as they placed a flower on each of the graves.

"I know your there, General Lilia. Congratulations on your promotion by the way," Death said simply, not even turning to face Me.

"What are you doing here, demon?" I glared as I clutched my fist.

"Still refuse to admit what I am. Why are all Fae like this?" Death said with an annoyed sigh.

"What! It is your fault that they are dead. You cut their lives short!" I shouted as I readied my weapon.

"My fault... MY FAULT!" Death shouted in rage as they knocked me off my feet, slamming me into a tree. "I never really understand why you fae were made this way. I told Life that giving them a millennium's worth of life, absurd."

"You Fae think because you live so long you are above everything. Even your queen brags how she is above death," Death growled as they reached for my blade. "You take things for granted and waste your time in this life, believing your hot $&@%."

I wanted to shout, scream that they were wrong. They were just cruel being that takes life as they, pleased. Memories of my loved ones flashed in my mind, only for the images to fash to their course in the mud. Suddenly my blade was logged into the tree next to my face.

"Pick it up," Death ordered, but... I couldn't everyone I love and care for... Are gone.

"Why did you spare me?" I asked hopelessly.

"Spare you... I did not spare you. Your skills and luck are what saved you. My job is simply to be there when mortal life is about to end," Death said as they stared into my soul. " Don't take anything in life for granted, no matter how fast and fleeting it may seem. And by the end of your life, you will be content."

They said as they pulled away to turn and leave. I... I had to ask. Why were they... Death themself giving me life advice.

"Because it will be important later down the road. When you will teach this to Malleus, Silver, and Sebek," They answered.

"W-who?" I asked, those were names I couldn't recall.

"They will look to you when the time comes, take good care of them," Was all they said.

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

Years later I would meet these people, very talented young Fae and human. And I'm glad I did stop to smell the roses of life. I never realized just how quickly humans changed, from technology to even fashion statements. And Every once and a while, no matter where in the world I went. They were there. At times they were in a place of mourning, but a lot of the time they were smelling the roses too.

Never once in my life would I ever thought I would spend a good century getting to know Y/n of Death. One could even say we're friends. But after some time, Y/n just vanished suddenly. Until now.

One night, Malleus vanished on one of his strolls. As Sebek and Silver ran all over the school in search of the prince. I decided to check around ramshackle, where I heard a familiar haunting whistle.

So I only did the logical thing, and whistle along as I followed the sound to its source. And there they were, the same wolf-eared figure standing alone in the open field behind Ramshackle.

"Greetings old friend," I spoke up, Y/n's ears flicked in acknowledgment as they turned to look back at me.

"Hello to you too, Lilia. Wow, you sure look old," Y/n laughed.

I rolled my eyes with a small laugh and stood next to them, as we both just enjoyed the beautiful night.

___________________

Bonus scene: inspired by an anonymous ask.

After many late-night game sessions and improper sleep, Lilia slowly follows behind Malleus and Silver. As his eyes wandered his eyes soon landed on his ancient friend, who was walking towards them. Y/n noticed Lilia's stares, so they stopped to greet them. Only to be met with Lilia's tired mumblings.

"You look like you're going to drop dead. Are you ready to cross over?" Y/n asked as a joke.

"Alright...HIT ME" Lilia shouted as he stood tall with his arms wide open.

Everyone standing around, including Malleus and Silver, look on in shock.

"..I'm sorry what ?" Malleus asked.

"I said, you can go ahead...take me, angel," Lilia said as he fell forward into Y/n's arms.

Y/n chuckle softly as they scoop up the tiny old fae and just handed him over to Silver.

"...Your dad is tired..isn't he ?" Y/n commented with an amused smile.

"I can see that now." Silver nodded.

[moonswolfie]

Studying is important

Yamaguchi x gn!reader

Thinking about teasing Yams till he goes all red and stuttery 🤭

(I say this as if I wouldn't become red and stuttery if I was in this situation)

Also random thing I wanted to add, I watched the german haikyuu dub for the first time recently and the way they pronounce the school and character names is so cute to me idk why😭

(my dumbass can't stop laughing at the title "Center Ass" I know that's the word for ace in german but I just cant bruh😭not my fault i got a horrible sense of humor)

Today you were feeling a little bold as you sat down next to your boyfriend, Yamaguchi Tadashi, to have a study session. He invited you over to his house immediately after you asked him to help you with your least favourite subject.

As he was helping you study, his face suddenly seemed cute and sweet and perfect for a little teasing. And honestly, who could hold back?

"Tadashi..." you called out sweetly, making him pause in the middle of his explanation and look to you. "Yes?"

"Ta-da-shi.." you leaned closer, spelling out his name in sylabbles. He looked puzzled, saying your name in a questioning tone.

"Is something wrong? Did I do anything?" He asked with worry in his eyes. He always tried his best for you to be comfortable and that's only one of the things that's adorable about him.

"No, Tadashi, everything is fine..." you purposefully used his name in that sentence, knowing how much it flusters him when you do that. "Oh..." he said awkwardly, cheeks dusting a shade of pink.

You glanced at the position of his hands by the table, then gently grabbed one while maintaining eye contact. He looked more confused than anything.

You slowly moved his hand to your mouth, kissing it gently. You watched him gradually turn red, stuttering out "E-Eh?! What a-are you..."

The rest of his sentence died off. He seemed unsure of whether he should keep looking at you or look away as his eyes moved in all sorts of directions.

You moved closer, pressing yourself up against his side, making him let out a little squeaking noise.

"Tadashi..." you whispered into his ear teasingly, and you felt him shiver a bit. "Can I kiss you?"

You asked innocently, putting on your best puppy eyes. You watched his eyes widen and somehow his blush deepened more.

"W-We're supposed to b-be studying!" He stammered out, hands flailing wildly in front of him. Oh yeah, his is exactly what you wanted. You moved over and settled in his lap, facing towards him.

"I know. One little kiss won't hurt, right?" You asked, brushing your pointer finger against his lips. As much as you loved seeing him shivering, you were beginning to get worried he might pass out on you.

"U-Um... I guess n-not..." he said, barely audible. It was kind of cute how much he was struggling to even say a simple sentence. You leaned close, lips almost touching his. You watched him close his eyes expectantly.

But no matter how patiently he waited, your lips didn't touch his. He slowly opened his eyes, confused, to find you back in your seat, solving a problem in the workbook.

"W...What... But I thought...." he touched his lips, worried that he did something wrong. You shrugged, continuing to solve the problem. "Studying is important, too."

You felt very bad for being so mean to him, but he makes it way too easy to tease him with that cute face of his.

There was a short pause, and you couldn't help but imagine Yamaguchi's face in that moment.

"O...oh... Well then, tell me i-if you need any help..." he sounded really embarrased, and when you looked to your right to admire him, you saw a stream of red coming out of his nose.

"Tadashi! Your nose is bleeding!" You warned him swiftly. He jumped in surprise, touching under his nose to check. When he saw the blood, he jumped up and ran to the bathroom, apologising and promising he'll be back on the way.

Maybe you took it a bit too far this time. Oh well, that won't stop you from kissing every single one of his freckles later.

[cringelordofchaos]

random craig tucker headcanons

has level 1 low support needs autism

gay (not a hc bt whaever.)

special interest is star trek and space in general

watching red racer every day is a routine he mustn't under almost any imaginable circumstance break

got some peruvian ancestry (from which parent's side? heck if i know) + knows a bittt of spanish

his family mostly goes without saying a word to each other during meals

when hes waiting outside the counselor's office for flipping off someone again he sits and either thinks about space or looks at images of stripe on his phone to ease any tension that migth be there

barely ever smiles except when stripe, space or tweek exist

closer to thomas than to laura

his parents taught him everythin ghe knows <33 (emotional constipation and invlulnerability but breaking the ice every one in a while)

sometimes just randomly infodumps about random facts about star strek or space or guinea pigs at the most random of times (actually canon as briefly shown in TFBW)

likes to learn / memorize random facts abt red racer, space, star trek or guinea pigs

random fact i almost mispelled guinea pigs every single time wtmf is wrong with me

for birthdays he mostly gets space-themed stuff cuz everyone knows he loves it

if hes overwhelmed, instead of having a meltdown he'll usually have a shutdown instead

sometimes rants to stripe abt stuff like relationship drama w tweek lmao

he actually liked the clothes he wore during the metrosexual fad, (evident by keeping them in his closet as shown in TFBW)

most emotion he shows is anger/being pissed off

"sooooooo happy" is actually a stim of his and it feels satisfying for him to say it every time hes sooo happy

even when hes sooo happy the most emotion he'll show is a faint smile

doesn't really smile in any pictures unless hes forced to

flipping people off for him is kinda like pushing people away and making them pissed off at him so he wouldnt need to care abt what they think of him and that way he sorta protects himself (mostly saying this bc of one of his attacks in tfbw)(i swear im sane)

hes sometimes overwhelmed from his relationship w tweek but he fucking sucks at communicating (his kryptonite in TFBW is literally communication) he didnt communicate that to tweek just yet (this is mostly shown in buddha box)(NOT SAYING CRAIG DOESNT CARE ABOUT TWEEK HE LOVES HIM HES JUST OVERWHELMED SOMETIMES FROM FEELING LIKE HES COMPLETELY RESPONIBLE FOR HIM ANDN OIEAHDKKSH leave him alone) i like to imagine tweek and craig resolve this at one point cuz im pretty sure they get married in the future and they always push through their struggles together and they rly need each other so .

u can point to a star n hell name it

has space themed pajamas

(StOLEN HC IdK FroM whO) has those glow in the dark stars in his room

i googled it sometime ago n apparently he has blue eyes ? idrc

his childhood dream was to become an astronaut (I FORGOT HOW TO SPELL IT I LITERALLY HAD TO GOOGLE IT I HATE MYSELF) but when he grew up he probably settled for something less extreme. idk what though

either got diagnosed w autism at age 10, in his teens, in his young adult years, or far afterwards, or never at all. when he was told by someone that he migth be autistic he didnt rly even bother to look it up or anything but if he did he would go like "idk i dont really think im autistic i dont think i do (x symtom) all that much" and tweeks like "You do that literally all the time !!!!". but yeah even if he gets diagnosed he doesnt rly end up taking any medication or specializzed therapy but he does gain a larger understanding of himself and how to handle things like shutdowns.)

really picky eater (cuz sensory issues)

hates wearing jeans or similiar uncomfy clothing so he wears exclusively sweatpants (again cuz of sensory issues)

his whole family is autistic actually ive decided so when mr mackey brings up the possibility of him being autistic laura and thomas deny it cuz all the symptoms he shows are what they do as well, andthyere obviously not autistic so neither can craig be.

sometimes he goes over to tweeks house completely unannounced and so does tweek (actuallycanon as shown in put it down)

0verwhelmed by the concept of emotions in general but his relationship w tweek forces him to confront that part of him he tries to avoid and forces him to open up a bit which is actually rly important

since tweek is on meth, he heavily lacks appetite and sometimes skips meals or just doesnt take care of himself enough. craig learns abt this (not the meth part cuz tweek doesnt know that eithrer) so he helps him eat enough food throughout the day so he doesnt fucken starve to death

replies to tweeks texts instantly (actually canon)

tolkiens best friend (canon according to the official south park wiki). clydes a closee second

clyde annoys the fuck out of him but in a friend teasing way and they both care abt each other obvu

i actually dont rly have hcs for him n tolkien sryyyy

jimmy makes the best remarks abt creek (canon)(in put it down he asks craig (when craig doesnt know why tweek isnt in school) "uh oh. trouble in paradise?" and in TFBW during a battle tweek tells craig smth like "ill be right with you super craig!" and jimmy says "OK, i guess illbe the third wheel." anyway live laugh jimmy)

extremely blunt pessimist (canon)

despite his reputation as a troublemaker hes actually a decently polite kid (minus the constant flipping off)

barely goes out the house or does anything exciting. nice n boring. just the way he likes it.

hates changes or sudden surprises or his routine being broken

on the verge of being diagnosed w oppositional defiance disorder

sometimes wears black nail polish (again cuz in tfbw its kinda implied he liked the metrosexual fad n black nail polish migth be a more neutral form of such self expression)(mostly self projecting here)

tumblr user

during one pride month thomas went all out and bought craig a shitton of pride themed merch that he mostly doesnt use

he loves loves lovess seeing tweeks smile !!!1!! hes like omfg finally hes getting a fucking break (tweeks life is a fucking mess)

appears unphased by some stuff even when hes really uncomfortab;le

sometimes sleeps without pillow ehn he deems it more comfortable

deals w some form of small anxiety, not to a disordered amount thogh

maybee has depression ?!? idk

dated a girl in the past cuz he thought he was supposed to, but he felt like "she was holding him back". overall he didnt give a fuck abt their breakup cuz he didnt really care that much abt the relationship and when others questioned him abt it he was confused and didnt know most ppl were heartbroken after a breakup. (sorry i love early craig being a gay mess in denial)

sometimes cartman calls him a pocoyo rip off and each time he feels the strongest urge to either decapitate or defenestrate him

before he n tweek got together he would joke to tolkien abt how he was gonna propose to him when they grew up so he could live off his wealth and not have to work for any money. (SORRY i got this concept from a webcomic (the four of them))

he n tweek send heart emojis to each other (implied)

mostlyyy dry texter (he doesnt mean to)

at one point he n tweek buy a pair of guinea pigs for stripe to befriend and craig names them castor and pollux

he n tweek get married in the future

mostly likes dry, tasteless and cold food (There r obviously exceptions thats why i said mostly)

says and intreprerts things more literally than most

still sarcastic at times

hates huge social events with too many people and noiises

used to blend in well and fit in w mob mentality but doesnt really care anymore

it wont let me write anymo

[renthony]

Hi! Could you talk about what it’s like being an independent media researcher and how you became one? Did you go to school for communications or media studies? How do you make money?

I’m about to graduate college and I really want to go into the media studies field but I haven’t really figured out what the best way for me to do that is. I have a lot of similar research interests as you (animation, censorship, media analysis, queer media) and I’m disabled so I’ve been worried about not having the energy for a traditional 9 to 5 sort of job, so I’d love to hear more about how you’re able to do the research you’re passionate about!

Honestly, I got here by accident, and I'm still figuring things out as I go. I don't make much money and right now I feel like my work is in a period of transition. I have plans, but some days it feels like I'm barely making baby steps.

I started writing when I was pretty young, and I read every single "how to write" guide I could get my hands on via the library or bookstore. I wrote constantly. Short stories, various false starts at baby's first novel, even newsletters for school activities and community clubs. I was most focused on fiction at first, but I learned a lot about nonfiction as well.

I got involved in online writing communities back when forums were still a big deal, and I joined Twitter back in 2009 when it was still new and there was a massive author and freelancer community. (Anyone else remember before retweets were a thing? We had to copy, paste, and manually type out "RT @[user]" like barbarians.) I learned an absolute fuckton about the craft and the industry by talking directly with other writers, literary agents, editors, and various other people in the field. From the time I was like 14, I was interacting with professional writers, sharing my work for feedback, and racking up rejection letters from magazines and literary agents (which was a badge of honor in the communities I was hanging out in, because it meant you were working hard and refusing to quit). When I was 17, my best friend even scraped together money from their shitty fast food job to pay for us to attend a major writing conference in Denver, where we participated in all kinds of classes and panels with industry professionals.

My mother was also writing at the time, and I got a lot of support from her. She had a blog that got a decent amount of interaction, because this was right around the rise of the Mommy Blogger and my mom wrote from the perspective of a socially-isolated tattooed punk mom who never planned to have kids (which was unusual in a landscape of perfect housewives with perfect photogenic babies with weirdly-spelled Mormon names they chose when they were kids). Eventually my mom started writing for a website owned by Yahoo, to supplement the household income while staying home to care for my little siblings. When I decided I wanted to take a whack at freelancing, she gave me a lot of advice on how to get started. I also had a writing class at school taught by a teacher who made it a class project to submit to magazines, so I basically got a head-start on freelance life. I wrote a lot of random articles for a website that's since gone defunct, and I submitted a lot of short stories to contests and magazines. Didn't really make a lot of money, but I learned a ton and got a lot of experience.

When I made it to college, I studied anthropology and French. I'd planned to study history, but switched my track after a single semester because anthropology suited me better. I took a lot of AP classes in high school and did well on all the standardized testing, so I managed to get a full academic scholarship and skip right past a few of my gen eds. Unfortunately for me, I had a lot of difficult life experiences during that time period, and I started to struggle in pretty much everything that wasn't directly related to my degree. I failed Latin so bad I didn't bother to go to the final exam, because even a perfect grade wouldn't have saved me. I fucked up my algebra grade beyond salvation. Those two classes alone tanked my GPA enough that I lost my academic scholarship, and I wound up dropping out entirely. Grades in my required courses were solid, but the scholarship requirements meant I had to do well across the board or lose my funding.

My mother still has debt from getting loans to pursue a master's degree, and I knew damn well I didn't want that kind of student debt piling up on me, so I opted for dropping out. Sometimes I regret it a little, but I honestly think it was the best option. I was having so much emotional upheaval on top of the academic stress that I needed time away to figure myself out. I graduated high school early, so I was like two years younger than everyone around me, and I didn't have many friends. I lived at home and came to campus just long enough to go to class, so I had nothing in common with my classmates who lived in dorms and participated in campus activities. I missed orientation because I registered late, the administration sent me to the transfer student registration day instead of the new student registration day, and I didn't get any "here's how you navigate university life" support. I didn't know I was supposed to have a one-on-one academic advisor for a year and a half, and when I finally met him, his only comment on the matter was, "wow, I wondered why you hadn't come to see me yet!" without any sort of inquiry into how a fuckup on that scale was allowed to happen in the first place. I wasn't set up for success by university administration, and I burnt out hard. I dropped out.

My wife encouraged me to do what was going to be best for me mentally instead of letting finances dictate my next step. She had a steady job, and even though we were still pretty broke, her support let me drop out of college and focus on recovery. A lot of people gave me shit because their perception was that I was dropping out of college to become "just a housewife," and they couldn't fathom why. From my perspective, I'd been given a lifeline.

I took care of our shitty little one-bedroom apartment. I read a lot of books and played a lot of Minecraft. When I felt up to it, I did some more freelancing. My wife was working unholy hours in a factory and we didn't get to spend much time together. I started doing tarot reading as a side hustle, and we started making vague plans to move somewhere better for us, but saving up was hard.

Things felt stagnant for a long time. I didn't write very much, I wasn't really doing anything related to my studies. I wrote when I had energy, and I kept scraping together extra cash doing tarot readings while my wife started working a new job in a lumber yard. Her support is the only reason I was able to recover and figure myself out, so big shout-out to my beloved working woman wifey. God, I love her.

Eventually we packed up and moved to a different state so we could be closer to my family. I got a job baking for a coffee shop. I wrote whenever I could. When I got laid off from the coffee shop, I realized there was no way in hell I could keep working a regular job without sacrificing my health, so I went back to writing full-time. (The Queen of Cups was written during this period.)

At some point I started getting back into anthropology and history research, just for fun. I didn't have money to finish my degree, but I had enough academic experience to know how to track down and evaluate good sources. I wasn't really trying to do anything for career purposes, I was just incredibly bored and wanted to study something again, so I got really, really into studying local history. Once I read everything I could about that, I jumped to another topic I was interested in, and then another. Media studies became my biggest focus as a natural outgrowth of my interests in speculative fiction, animation, and the history of the entertainment industry. I studied anthropology in school because I loved learning how and why humans do the things we do, and media studies always felt like an obvious facet of that. It's part of why I was always obsessed with cave paintings and paleolithic sculptures--people make art! It's what we do! It's what we've always done!

Anyway, I now live in a university town that has resources available to the public, and I have friends who work in various university libraries or as professors. I started making use of whatever I could get access to. I read a lot of nonfiction books from independent researchers pursuing their own passion projects, I got really into video essays on YouTube, and I had the epiphany that you don't actually have to finish college to study and write about things as long as you put in the quality research and source all your information. At some point I started calling it my "DIY academia," which my university-employed friends found utterly delightful.

Honestly, I credit my formal-academia friends with a lot. They've all been an incredible source of support and reassurance, and have helped me track down quite a few sources I was having trouble getting my hands on. Everyone do yourself a favor and make friends with someone who works in a university library.

I started a Patreon several years ago (in like 2017 I think?), primarily for my fiction writing, but there's plenty of other things that have shown up there over the years (art, cosplay, essays, etc.). As I started getting more into my DIY academia, folks started expressing interest in seeing me write about it. My tumblr posts about media generated a decent amount of attention, I'd managed to build up a platform, and it wasn't hard to say, "okay, screw it: I have freelance experience and I know how to write a paper, does anyone want to pay me for it?"

I haven't been submitting to existing publications like I used to, mostly because I don't have a decent portfolio assembled. My old freelance work in high school and college was for a platform that closed down a decade ago, and no matter how popular they get I can't bring myself to include tumblr posts alongside professional credits. My current plan is to build a portfolio on my website showing off the commissions I've been taking, and then start submitting to magazines and newspapers again between my other work. I'd love to eventually write for something like Polygon or IGN.

It's hard. I love research, I love writing, and I love sharing information with people, but having to DIY everything is really, really hard. I often feel like I'm just throwing nonsense into the void in the hope someone will like it and leave a tip in my Ko-Fi. I don't have formal academic credentials beyond "I was planning my senior thesis about the ethics of investigating ancient burial sites, but then I dropped out." I just have a neurodivergent brain, a handful of special interests, a wife who works the graveyard shift in a lab to pay our bills, and the ability to hyperfixate on research for absurd lengths of time.

The most common advice I used to get about freelancing is that you just have to keep throwing things at the wall to see what sticks. It's been years since then, but I think the advice still applies. Read a lot, learn a lot, and write about the things you're most interested in. Search around and look for magazines and newspapers and websites that accept unsolicited freelance submissions. Read the other articles they publish to see how your work stacks up. Submit, submit, submit. Rake in rejection letters and keep them as a reminder of how hard you're working. If you're up for it, start a Patreon to post the things you don't submit elsewhere. The worst thing that can happen is that people don't give you money, but maintaining it still helps you lay the groundwork for a portfolio and a reader base.

I deal with a lot of hellacious impostor syndrome. I worry a lot that I'm just a hack who doesn't actually know what they're talking about. Like I said, I got here totally by accident, but whatever I'm doing seems to be working for me. I'm broke, but my work is being read, and opportunities for more work show up when I least expect them. I'm not sure what's next for me, but I'm excited to figure it out. Money's tight, but I keep enduring despite the chaos. I throw things at the wall, I see what sticks, I clean up whatever flops and then try it again later. Wash, rinse, repeat.

It's hard, but so is everything else. I like it better than a lot of other things I could be doing.

[iceiclehorned]

Starter for @crimsononiarataki

The sun was shining valiantly outside, gracing the neighbourhood of tall, elegant houses, each clearly maintained to a standard above what would be considered normal. The streets were immaculate, with gold-plated doorknobs sparkling within view, regardless of the direction turned in. It would be the chirping of the birds that would stir a young woman awake, a slight headache blossoming into the circle of her awareness, enticing a groan to rumble in the confinements of her throat.

What time was it?

It was the morning after Kamisato Ayaka spent the entirety of the night attempting to get a few of her business papers completed, opting to get an advance on her schedule to indulge in some much needed time off, only to spend it obsessing over a celebrity she had accidentally stumbled across. Opting to turn the radio on for some musical encouragement, only to be enthralled with the sound of an angel. The irony striking that the voice was behind a rock band. Still, her curiosity had been piqued, with an eager, thudding heart staring at her ratio expectantly, awaiting the name to grace her ears.

Menace.

Crawling into bed, forgetting the work laid out on her desk, she finds herself lightly researching the band, coming to find that the lead singer referred to himself as Itto, and how on earth is it possible for somebody to look so damned refined? Long, white hair, facial markings that seemed to enhance every feature, and those muscles? In one night, the businesswoman had managed to find her type (a single man) and fall into a rabbit hole of his music. Spending half of the night memorising as many songs as possible, finding an enjoyment in something so broadly different to the tastes she had been introduced to since birth. After listening to countless songs across several albums, her fingers would be searching for his personal social media platform, basking in the glory of discovering it within a few struggled searches.

Somehow, within the realm of the night, when her mind was switching between shutting off and remaining determined in her searches of the band itself, Ayaka had sent Itto a few texts via the social media platform she mamaged to find him on. Even as the Kamisato lazily drags herself out of bed -- which was unlike her, even with the zombie status -- there would be no remembrance of it.

The texts would read:

'I love you so much feuwkdtgh'

'I'm so sorry, i'msoskeepy but you do madke some good music'

'ignoreme'

By this point, she would realise her phone is dead, placing it on charge before going about her shower, opting to pretend as if she had been awake all morning whenever she would bump into Ayato. Times like these almost required an ignorance, because the moment she learns that she texted Itto, much less with spelling mistakes from her half-asleep state, there would be a flood of humiliation hitting her full force.

[thecameronchronicles]

Snow Day Scrabble

TW: Semi-public Teasing. Smut. Language. 

SUMMARY: Your secret relationship with Pope is at risk of exposure during a game of Scrabble that turns smutty. 

WORD COUNT: 1300

*ORIGINAL CONCEPT*

Snow Day Scrabble

Nobody knew and nobody had to. It kept things simplistic and without the consistent tasing you’d come to expect from JJ, the skepticism from Kie, and the parental and unsolicited advice from John B. But you couldn’t help yourself from flirting with Pope in every possible way you could. Usually this consisted of a few locked gazes from across the room or popsicles taken to remind him of a gag reflex he trained well. But now you found yourselves among the pogues, having collectively ditched a day in the middle of winter for the sake of needing a break from the expectancy of academic and social perfection, and all your focus had been on the game of Scrabble to which you were currently losing. 

So you decided to make things interesting. 

Looking at the set of seven tiles set before you, you found a multitude of words you could use for those already applied on the board. And yet, only one would warrant the reaction you wanted from him. His eyes followed you as you drew the ‘S’, double ‘E’s, and T along the word “Windowsill” having been set at his earlier turn, until you eventually meant to spell out ‘sweet. And yet, you would move each tile slowly until all he read was ‘Wet’. His brow cocked as his lips spread into a smirk before he looked over his shoulder at your shared friends. 

Unable to mimic the same tease, he would clench his jaw as you would do it again. Only now, with the word flower. Using the ‘F’, you would begin to spell out ‘firetruck’, but watched his eyes widen as you set only the other three letters to spell out the vulgar act you wanted from him. The second the ‘U’, ‘C’, and ‘K’ were finalized on the board, his jaw clenched and his focus remained on you. It no longer mattered about the points for what would usually be bragging rights between the two of you. There was more on the line in this instance as you used an ‘M’ and an ‘E’ while he now pulled a ‘N’, ‘O’, and finally a ‘W’, before you rose to your feet. 

Lingering in the corridor between the back bedroom and bathroom of The Chateau, you lingered in the doorway, pulling your shirt from over your head, before setting it behind you as he fumbled with the chair before following at your silent invitation. 

“Do I need to spell it out for you, Pope?” You teased, sitting on the edge of the bed as he moved to you, hands on your hips, before he taunted your lips before pulling back at the final moment that would have allowed them the collision you both desired all day. 

“You won’t be able to spell anything by the time I’m done with you…”

“Oh really?”

“Not even your own name.” You were lifted onto the bed by a single hand under your thigh to pull you around him before you were taken to the bed, his weight pinning you flat as you smirked. 

“Your little game almost got me caught, baby…”

“Oh?”

He nodded, “So now you’re gonna know the struggle…” He was at the floor, fingers yanking your pants in a single swipe, before your legs were pulled over each of his shoulders. He would not waste even a second before he made those familiar stripes of your sex, a sacred pair of lips only he knew this well, as he had you pulling your back into an arch as you fisted the sheets at your back for some semblance of an outlet for the need to moan. 

“Not so easy is it baby? Think you can still spell now?”

“F-U.” You teased as he scoffed. 

“Not yet.” He winked before moving back to your sex, drawing you further to the edge of the bed. 

“I’ll give you an easy one…Spell how you want me to make you come.”

“I don’t care-”

“I want you to spell it for me.” You rolled your eyes. 

“B-E-H-I-N-D.” His brow raised as he took your ankles, turning you as you requested, but not removing his clothes just yet. Instead, he took his tongue against you this way as well, ensuring you were thoroughly lubricated, before he finally teased you with his cock’s head. 

“Please-”

“Spell, baby.”

“P-L-E-Oh!” You gasped at the sudden insertion of his cock. 

“Not how I remember it being spelled-” He chuckled at his own taunt against you. 

“Still cocky enough to spell through THIS?” He grunted, bottoming out as you cried out into the sheet beneath you. 

“No-”

“Surely you can spell THAT still.”

“Please, Pope…I need to feel you-”

“Faster?”

“Yes!”

“Harder?”

“Oh God, yes…” He smirked behind you. 

“Just spell one…one more and I’ll make you come so hard you won’t even be able to speak if you tried…”

“Please…”

“Spell your own name for me…My good girl taking me so fucking deep…spell that name for me…come on…” He made a mix of patronizing and praising as you struggled to remember your first letter as his fingers came to your clit. 

“Come on baby…I’ll help you…” He offered the first letter as you struggled to offer the others, your head spinning as he scoffed into your shoulder. 

“I think I’ve made my point, baby-”

“Yes…”

“Now you’re gonna come quietly for me and then we’re gonna go finish that game…”

“I can’t be quiet, Pope-you’re too…it’s too good.” He wrapped his hand around your mouth. 

“Then scream into my hand, babe…I can’t stop now…and you deserve to struggle a little bit for everyone, almost seeing the dirty things you were spelling for me.”

Meanwhile out in the Chateau, JJ lifted his eyes to the table now absent from the two of you. “Do you guys ever find it weird that they disappear like that?” JJ asked as Kiara and John B both nodded, while the curious blonde made his way to the direction of the hallway. 

“Fuck…Don’t stop…” Your choice failed to be covered as Pope’s hand ate into the sheets beside you. 

“Couldn’t if I wanted to.” He teased back. “You feel too fucking good for me,” And the sound of your name sent JJ’s mouth to part. And yet, it would be a revelation he wouldn’t let anyone else to know he held as he returned to his seat as you Pope climbed to an ungodly pace at your back. 

“So much better than scrabble…” He breathed as you chuckled. 

“I hope so…”

“But I’m still gonna beat your ass…” You turned over your shoulder, a slap making you gasp as you looked to the door as if offering a silent reminder as he would only smirk. 

“I DID mean at the game, but if you want more-”

“Pope, please…please baby…I’m so close…” You whimpered as he nodded. 

“Spell it out for me.”

“Pope…” You whined. 

“Just three letters…what you want from me.”

“C-” He thrusted and grunted at your letter announced. 

“U!” You gasped as you felt your edge summoning you closer to its spillover. 

“M!” He nodded, pounding into you from behind, making your eyes roll once feeling you both hold that effect on one another. 

“Wanna try to spell your name, now?” He teased as you hit his chest. 

“You REALLY want to finish the game? Or finish ME?” You asked while straddling him, his eyes widened. 

“You’re not done?” You shook your head. 

“I have a few words I want you to spell…” You explained, leading his fingers to your clit. 

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @drews1love @phildunphyisadilf @mashdan0916

[axelberry]

Tell us about your oc area :)

Well I don’t have a oc named area I DO have my oc rea.

She’s just a little 11 year old girl. Incredibly intelligent too much for her own good. However she lives in very… tense home life and is often constantly paranoid. She is always studying ways she could take advantage of someone to protect herself if things ever were to go south.

She has in fact held Dr two brains at (ray) gun point to force him to fight aganist his mouse brain.

She’s heavily and I MEAN HEAVILY based of me as a child. She even has one of my childhood plushies.

She is autistic but no one seems to suspect it. (Haha ptsd effects children different)

My sona is just rea but transitioned (I’m a trans boy) and in high school.

She loves ponies and princesses she will only draw princesses and ponies.

Shes mulit talented, a gifted kid. Which often leads her to be extremely stressed. She can sing, draw, and is highly intelligent both academically and emotionally intelligent.

She often wishes to be saved like a princess in a fairy tale.

She struggles a lot with spelling.

She also has the idea that she has to save people and that she has to be the best person ever if not then she’s horrible.

She has no idea how to wiggle her finger.

She make her index finger more flexible then normal by pressing too hard on a tablet screen.

Rea also has multiple different social medias that she did not get with parental permission.

Rea has very crooked teeth and often gets cuts in their mouth from her teeth being way too sharp. She has bitten other children.

She also chews on her dolls and often chews on her plushies and other toys she could put in her mouth. She likes to bite. Her toys arent in the best state mainly because she often makes them fight each other chewing on them. But some are broken for other reasons that aren’t her own doing

Rea has put her health and safety in order to prove she’s better at someone at something, a bit of a competitive girl and often feels she always has to be the best at everything but always falls short unlike Victoria best.

Rea’s mom gives full blown lectures to the stray cats that keep surrounding their apartment. Rea finds it very amusing.

Rea has eaten: clay, a coin, a single sequin, doll hands, plastic from all kinds of toys, play dough, paint and paint water, plush fur, corners of a paper, and a bit of a glue stick.

Rea often likes to think about easy it is to murder someone if you gather enough information on them (she also believes she could murder people so much better then actual criminals).

She will never use this information she just likes to challenge her thinking.

Rea is a very sneaky child, she has a tendency to hide things from adult figures, like if she took something from them and such, or just plain lying and hiding secrets

Rea hates fortnite but loves among us and even has a plush among us.

Rea is a border in the making she keeps all the boxes her dolls come in and says she eventually plans to make something with them (she never does).

Rea often has nightmares where she’s a villain. She has a deep fear of eventually becoming a villain and is extremely paranoid about it, over analyzing her every action.

She doesn’t use her ability to “hush” people because she feels it’s too mean and it’s also overstimulating for her.

She was once in a fight with a high schooler, no one but she got a black eye.

She doesn’t know her times tables and never will.

Shes stupidly athletic, despite unknowingly being very ill she tried out for every single sports team at her school. Her jaw now pops more often due to being hit with a softball.

All she wants to be is a little princess in a safe environment.

She and Becky used to be friends but they drifted off, she found wordgirl’s secret identity embarrassingly quick and taught Becky how to lie. She keeps a promise to hide wordgirl’s identity to this day bur avoid stuff wordgirl related and doesn’t like talking about her.

In a roleplay me and @justadoodle0 are doing she’s been taken out her neglectful and dangerous home to stay with Dr two brains as found family.

She has infact pointed a ray gun at herself, it was not for any purpose other then make herself larger for the hell of it.

Rea is very protective of her stuff, she despises sharing especially when sharing attention.

Rea instead of going home like she was supposed to instead ran away and promptly got lost as shit, the police were involved and Dr two brains had such a fun time <3

Her only two friends are a puppet from the 1700s named mora (oc by @adry_the_deadbeat on discord) and a girl who frankinsteined herself named Frankie (oc by @justadoodle0)

She is incredibly weak and has bad blood circulation which makes her uncomfortably cold all the time.

She is sassy only when she feels safe enough to do so.

She had bit Dr two brains during one of his mouse brain takeovers to knock a ray gun out of his hand and that’s when she held him at gun point.

She in the middle of the night took one of two brains ray guns and hid it in case things went south when the police were called when she went missing and stayed with two brains.

She has a pocket knife she stole.

The cat plush is the one rea has, her name is snowball and I’ve had her since childhope. And have some doodles off her!

[always-andromeda]

Hey Meda!!! Thank you for opening up Valentines prompts! Knowing you always brightens my day! 💛🌻

Anywho! Down to business! Would you be willing to do a Molasses Chip or Strawberry Creme for Percy? He’s a wonderful trash bastard. 😍🤢

– 𝐃𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐞 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: aaaa, thank you, Sav. I'm kind of loving the little bits of Percy I'm getting so far!! what a great way to relieve all of my school frustration lol.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Percy is a rotten asshole (but who couldn't have seen that one coming lmao), usage of the name "girl", nothing else I can think of!

Never in a million years would you want to kiss Percival Dolarhyde. God, who could even think of kissing him? He's annoying and a loudmouth and has no idea how to treat anybody right.

And he's ugly anyways. Yeah. The ugliest. The ugliest and saddest bastard you'd ever encountered in all of Absolution. Which – given the low population count – was an easy contest to win. But still, he managed to make it through with flying colors.

Every single day presented a brand new way in which Percy could find a way to needle into your side. In fact, if you didn't know any better, you'd swear that he enjoyed eliciting a reaction from you.

So, mustering up as much unpleasantness as possible, you throw your own punches. And in a way it's therapeutic. The frustration would bubble up so much that it was a relief to have something to blow your lid at.

Every time you call him some nasty name or manage to hurl some retort that shuts him up, your pride swells knowing that the Dolarhyde boy wouldn't get everything he ever wanted. No one was that lucky – not even you.

Because as these exchanges continue on, the urge to up the ante with every blow is so tempting. Because calling him a rat bastard and a nuisance and an arrogant cur simply isn't enough anymore.

Truthfully, the more his lips flap in the wind, sputtering out some feeble insult, the more you simply want to shut him up; to put actions to those words you so desperately cling to. 

Percy's face inches closer to yours as he speaks, "I ain't never known a more goody-two shoes little girl in all of my life."

"Funny how your daddy could be so rich and yet you still can't manage to form a half decent insult."

"Oh, like you could do any better, huh?" Percy scoffs, "Yeah, c'mon, girl. Do your worst."

And you do. At least it's the worst for you. In Percy's case...well, that kiss is probably one of the best things that's ever happened to him.

With his bandana balled up in your fist, you pull him down to your level. And just like every other punch you've pulled on him, your mouth doesn't miss its mark. They strike his dry, cracked lips and create a spark that's just enough to start a raging brush fire as soon as your own lips part and his breath quickens.

Percy struggles with his hands, half afraid that if he puts them anywhere on you, it'll break the heated spell and result in a kick to the groin. But when he settles for placing them on your hips, he's shocked to find that it only makes you whine desperately as you pull him closer and closer. So he does the same and lets himself sink deeper into the embrace.

You only pull away when the sharp and spicy taste of tobacco becomes far too much for you to handle. Because of course even when you're kissing him, something about him has to ruin it just a little bit. That's another thing you could be mad at him for, you figure. And part of you hates how excited you get at the prospect of adding that fact onto your list of problems with him.

"I wasn't quite expecting...that..." Percy murmurs, still trying to catch his breath.

"Would you rather I'd socked you in the nose?"

"No, ma'am," he replies sheepishly and eyes you wearily.

You blink a few times before pursing your lips and sighing. "I guess I could go for another taste."