#Creative Secrets

[mumblesplash]

i say if you’re gonna have the mysterious entities speak in rhyme you might as well commit (EDIT: part 2!)

(posting an unprecedented Part 1 of At Least 3 bc i actually have the entire script and most of the storyboarding for this done already)

[welcometogrouchland]

[ID in ALT] I've made posts before about Talia/Dick co-parenting Damian moments (will never happen but let me dream) and this came to me in a vision. Took me ages to finish for some reason 😭 and then even longer to post

[1captainjordan4]

New player at the winners table…

Few months after the final but im cool like that ya know

[creativepromptsforwriting]

hi! do you have some ideas for secret dating in friend group? 💟

Hi :)

Secret dating in friend group

Their friends decided that they want to get them together, not knowing they've already done it themselves.

Lying to your best friends is hard. Especially when they know you so well.

They both had different reasons for why they didn't want their friends to find out about them.

Being on a secret date when suddenly all their friends show up. They have to act fast to not get busted.

When asked by their friends, they straight up denied any romance between them.

To counteract their friends' suspicions they now act like they don't even like each other one bit. Not even as friends.

They have quite elaborate plans to keep their relationship a secret in their friend group, not knowing that everyone is well aware of it.

I hope you like them!

- Jana

[hiraethwrote]

ARE WE JUST FRIENDS?

pairing : osamu miya x f!reader summary : late in the evening your phone calls, and a desperate atsumu begs you to come pick up his brother who is not only drunk, but in an extremely bad mood — which results in your best friend behaving uncharacteristically mean cw : best friends to lovers, timeskip, ooc osamu (not sure, i struggle writing him), angsty, hurt to comfort, profanity, intoxication, subtle pining, some miscommunication, jealousy, no use of y/n word count : 2.5k

author's note : for my beautiful ave (@hiraethwa) as a part of @lale-txt's amazing hq secret santa event. ik i've taken my sweet time, and i hope the wait was worth it. due to a lil writing slump, and in general being intimidated by writing for hq, it ended up very different from what i initially planned, but i still hope you enjoy it <3 mwah

“What are you doing here?”

You drew a sharp breath, the venom in his voice catching you off guard.

“Atsumu called me,” you sighed, wrapping your arms tighter around your body. You tried to convince yourself it was to shield yourself from the December cold, but you knew it was more in order to bring yourself a sense of comfort — Osamu’s hostile tone stung more than expected.

He scoffed instantly as his brother’s name left your lips, head turning away as you saw him aggressively roll his eyes.

“Of course he did,” he mumbled.

His complaint was loaded with unspoken feelings. All the years you had known him had thought you that much — your usual sweet and mellow best friend had a tendency to become passive aggressive whenever something really bothered him.

“Don’t be like that. Come on, get up.” Part of you wanted to retaliate with a just as snappy remark, but it would only cause you more problems in getting him to come with you, something you suspected was already laid out to be a difficult task.

When he didn’t do as you told him, you stepped closer, begrudgingly offering him your hand to help pull him to his feet. He only stared at it — an ugly glare usually reserved for his brother.

“Osamu,” you groaned in frustration, “it’s fucking freezing, won’t you please just get up!” Again he just huffed. “Stop acting like a child,” shaking your hand, hoping he would eventually accept the gesture.

Finally he turned to look at you, his eyes digging deep into you as there was a tight crease between his eyebrows — it made your stomach turn. He never looked at you like this. If you didn’t know any better, you would describe it as pure disgust, that he couldn’t imagine a worse place to be than in your presence.

It was tempting to turn on your heel and let him sulk in his lonesome, where he sat on the frosty grass outside the annual Christmas party his team put together, one he had hinted at for weeks he never even wanted to attend. But you remained persistent, mirroring his mean frown and challenging his glare.

Another scoff slipped out of him. Then he weakly swatted your hand away and got on his feet without your help. Once he stood straight, you noticed how his towering frame swayed ever so slightly from the alcohol still running through his body.

“What?” He spat, still maintaining the ugly eye contact that felt like an insult.

The kindness that usually wallowed in his eyes seemed to have gone dormant. And despite his cruel and uncharacteristic edge, you couldn’t help but to admire how pretty he was. The light snow falling slowly around you, landing in his hair before melting into little droplets of water.

Clenching your jaw, you took a deep breath through your nose to bite back whatever rested on your mind, trying to tell yourself he was only acting this way because he was drunk.

“Nothing.”

With high shoulders, both caused by the cold and the uncomfortable tension, you turned and headed over to your car and opening the passenger door to hold it open for him. But when you turned to look up, Osamu was stood in the exact same position, sporting the same grumpy expression.

Your head fell back with another loud groan. “Osamu, I’m not doing this with you tonight, just get in the car.”

“I don’t feel like going with you,” stuffing his hands in his jean pockets as his shoulders raised, trying to conceal how the cold was starting to make his body tremble.

“Too damn bad, now get in the car,” you said sternly as you contested his mean stare.

You wondered what the hell could have happened for you to earn this treatment from him. Yesterday everything seemed fine, hanging out the whole group where everything had been so pleasant — perfect even, if you dared be that honest.

The unspoken thing between you had continued to grow stronger, slowly but surely breaking out from the restraints of ‘just friends’. Your gazes lingered longer than what would be considered normal. More often than not, your arm would shyly be pressed against his the entire time you were hanging out — yesterday was no different.

And when it was time for you to take your leave, his arms had wrapped around your shoulders in a comforting hug that had resulted in your head resting on his chest. Your feelings had gotten the best of you, and you had let your eyes slowly glide shut and bask in his embrace for a moment longer than you knew you should have — then you didn’t hear anything from him until Atsumu had called and begged you to come pick him up.

“Please come and get him. He’s really drunk and should be in bed,” Atsumu’s voice was laced with concern before it twisted into irritation. “He’s also just in a fucking pissy mood.”

It hadn’t been a question whether you should do it or not — you would always be there for Osamu.

You just hadn’t expected to be met with such hostility from the person you were walking such a fine line with, especially when it came so out of the blue.

“Atsumu really wasn’t kidding when he said you were pissy,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Funny how you two keep talking about me,” he said, kicking an illusionary rock making him appear even more like a bratty child.

“Yeah, told me your own team don’t even want you at the party no more because you’re a buzzkill.”

An aggressive scoff shot past his teeth. “Some friend you are, talking crap behind my back with my own brother.”

“Sure, whatever, you can tell me how bad of a friend I am on the way home. I won’t say it again, get. In. The. Car.”

There was a betrayal on his expression, a flinch in his frown, telling you your crass tone was having a bigger impact on him than he was letting on.

Though he hesitated, his feet eventually carried him unsteadily towards you. Without sparing you a single glance, he crouched in front of you to enter the car. And just as all four of his limbs were inside the vehicle, your anger had you slam the door with a lot more power than intended before scurrying into the driver seat.

“Put your seatbelt on,” you demanded, watching as his body had let go of the shivering as the heat inside the car enveloped him — but there was no change in his mood.

The car ride back to his apartment was spent with zero words exchanged. The only thing heard was the gushing sound of the heat you were blazing throughout the car, and the low tunes of your calm music, which was actually doing wonders for you to steady your emotions a little.

You pulled into his driveway, silence swallowing the car as you shut off the engine. You turned to look at him, bracing yourself to meet a stubborn child you probably had to fight in order to get out of the car — instead, he was half asleep, eyelids heavy as sleep was looming right around the corner. A deep sigh slipped out of you at the peaceful sight of your best friend.

Slowly you reached out, placing your hand on his shoulder to carefully shake him awake, “Osamu, we’re here,” you whispered, only for all your irritation to return in an instant as he jerked out of your gentle touch, frown creasing his features again.

He responded with a low “hmpf,” before unbuckling his belt and exiting the car, yet again never having the decency to look at you.

He’s drunk, he’s drunk, he’s drunk, you tried to tell yourself in order for you to be able to treat him with some grace. Alcohol could be the devil, turning the most gentle of people into pests — as seen right before your eyes. What kind of friend would you be if you couldn’t show him some mercy by excusing one bad night.

“Careful,” you sighed, rushing over to him to firmly place your hands on each side of his waist as he was about to tip over, “I got you.”

“I don’t need you to have me,” he nearly growled as he reached in his pocket for his keys — but he never jerked out of your grip, letting your hands remain at his side as substitute.

“Here, let me,” you tried to interject when he fumbled with unlocking the door for a second longer than your patience could endure. Of course he was unable to willingly hand you the keys, but at least he didn’t put up much of a fight when you twisted it out of his long fingers.

With one hand still resting on the small of his back, you unlocked the door. With gentle pressure, you ushered him forwards, desperate to get the nuisance that was your best friend to bed.

“You can go home now,” he slurred the second he set foot inside his apartment.

“Not leaving just yet,” you whispered, remaining close behind him, guiding him to his bedroom.

He grunted and grumbled disapprovingly, and you might even have heard a suppressed ‘so annoying’ under his breath. You bit your tongue again, just hoping he would pass out once he was safely in bed — maybe come tomorrow, he could even give you an apology.

“Now you can leave,” finally stumbling out of your light grip, spinning around to serve you yet another one of his frowns.

“I’ll get you some water first-“

“No. I want you to leave.”

“Let me take care of you first, okay?”

“No, please just go home.” There was a sadness in his voice now. And maybe it was the lighting playing tricks on you, but you swore you spotted a shine gloss over his eyes.

Your shoulders slumped, unable to give your anger room to grow when he was so evidently upset.

“Osamu,” you breathed, daring to take a step closer. “What’s going on?” Carefully you grabbed ahold of his arms and guided him to the edge of his bed. He wasn’t accepting your gestures entirely, scooting further away when you sat down beside him.

“Nothing. Just don’t want you here.”

“Did something happen tonight?”

“No, nothing happened so you can leave!” It seemed like he tried to find back to the bite that had been in his tone when you first picked him up, but the sudden shift in his mood had taken control of him instead.

You didn’t think twice about reaching out, placing a comforting hand on his back — only for him to shrug it off.

“Atsumu said you’d been-“

A visceral groan interrupted you. “It’s always Atsumu, isn’t it?” He turned to look at you, sad eyes locking with yours and now you could definitely spot the faint gloss of tears.

“What?” You breathed in confusion, eyebrows narrowing instinctively.

“All night!” He said, almost more to himself than to you.

“You’re going to have to elaborate.”

“All night, he was on his damn phone, and suddenly he has called you.”

You couldn’t help yourself, placing your hand in his back again to bring him comfort, but you wasn’t sure it was to any help. “Yes, so I could come pick you up.”

Another petty scoff, tainted with poorly hidden sorrow, escaped him. “Why don’t you just go? I’m sure he would love to hang out with you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you spoke softly, eyes studying his profile as his gaze was locked on his lap.

“I told you to leave!”

“Osamu,” you said sternly, fingers gripping his chin to force his focus back on you. “I said I’m not going anywhere!”

His eyes kept betraying him — his lips carried a frown and that crease between his eyebrows appeared to have grown stuck on his forehead.

But his eyes just looked so sad, as if somehow there was a lot of pent up feelings that had suddenly decided to spring to the surface and trap him in a spiral.

“It’s me,” you whispered, attention flittering between his eyes, hoping the tenderness you conveyed would convince him to reveal himself to you.

“That’s the problem.”

This was the first time you could remember being nervous around him, bordering on scared. You knew what you hoped he was getting at, but you were too afraid to let yourself be entertained by the pleasant fantasy.

It was so much safer to live in the naivety, thinking you were just more affectionate than other best friends. Entertaining a lovesick dream of being anything more was simply too risky, only seeing a scenario where you ended up hurt.

However, the look he gave you sprinkled just the tiniest bit of reality to your fantasy.

“Do you like him?” the innocent question tumbling out on accident, googly eyes staring at you before his shoulders bounced with a quiet hiccup.

“Like who?”

“You know who,” he whined, eyes pleading for you not to make him say it.

“Atsumu?” He nodded weakly, gulping down the nervous lump in his throat. “I mean, sure.”

“But do you like like him?” He caused heat to flush your face by his adolescent question.

“We’re just friends.”

“Are we just friends too?”

For some reason, his bold statement had the tension in your body evaporate, shoulders slumping before you moved your hand to cup his face, certain you heard the softest hum leave him as your hand caressed him.

“No, we’re not.”

And then he melted into your touch, finally letting his sweet smile paint his lips instead of that damn frown.

“You know we’re not,” you whispered.

“I know,” he whispered just as low, “but I needed to hear you say it.”

“But Osamu?” Your voice was soft as velvet, watching how his eyelids had become heavy again.

“Hm?”

“You’re still really drunk,” you chuckled weakly.

“Don’t worry,” he yawned, “I’ve liked you for years, so I’ll still remember tomorrow.”

You had no choice but take his word for it, hoping he would in fact remember the small confession exchange that had taken place. At least you had the ability to bask in some relief, feeling as if tons had been lifted from your shoulders.

With no sudden movements, your hand left his face before carefully getting on your feet. His breaths had slowly turned deeper and slower, a clear indication sleep were to consume him sooner rather than later, gracefully leading him to lay down on the bed.

You pulled his covers over him, smiling to yourself at the peaceful sight and thankful the night had managed to take a turn for the better.

Just as you were about to head out of his bedroom, his soft voice spoke your name.

“Yeah?”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Osamu. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And right before you closed the door, you saw the sweetest smile stretch across his face once again.

an : also wanna thank the lovely lale for putting this whole thing together, and introducing me to this amazing group of people <3 comments and reblogs is much appreciated

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[nebuleeart]

@op-secret-santa gift for @blacklegsanjiii !!! he thinks he’s helping but that rice is 100% coming out burnt

[hualianschild]

saw this on my tl and oh op is so right

credits to @/melondenden on X

[restlessgem]

Am I the only one who thinks The Secret History would be way more interesting as a stage play than a movie? It could be put on in the same style as a Greek tragedy, taking inspiration from ancient performances. Or there could be constant rotating sets and backgrounds, but the mountains and the cliffs always being present onstage, reminding us that what no matter what Richard is telling us, and no matter how much Richard and the Greek class try to rationalize it, they will always be haunted by what they have done. THINK ABOUT HOW THE BACCHANAL COULD BE SHOWN

[rotshi]

Rotshiii!! Did you see!? Did you see Rewrite Shadow exists now!! 👀

Ghghgh I SAW! He finally found his Shadow! The design is growing on me! Silly boyfriends !!!

Okay actually I've been thinking about it and it's really growing on me what the- Was looking at some other fanwork and I liked this little design. Red mean boi and his blue goofy bf!

[candz13z]

But imagine the life series winners just chilling in the winners lounge in the void, and they hear the rumble of an engine slowly fade in😭

[rasoyas]

yet another tiny corner to add to the growing saga of "things nobody will probably ever see in the lifetime of this save but i will know they are there and they will make my ocd happy" 🎨

[writers-potion]

Hi there! Do you have any tips on how to write a secret society? Whether it's a good or evil society?

Writing Sauce for Secret Societies

Secret (Hidden) vs. Secretive/Classified

An important distinction to make while writing exclusive societies is the extent to which they shirk the eyes of the public and/or government:

“Secret” or “Hidden” societies push their existence under the rug. No one but the members know of their activities at all. (e.g. Camp Half-Blood from the Percy Jackson series, the wizarding society of the Harry Potter series)

“Secretive” or “classified” societies exist publicly with a clear purpose. However, the specifics of their activities are only disclosed to his members. (e.g. the CIA, higher-ranked military organizations)

While secret societies are often illegal, rebellious, or anarchist, secretive societies are legal and institutional. 

Here are some other elements that I think a secret society requires. The specifics of how these are implemented will depend on the size of your society. 

The Origin Story 

What is the society’s motto? Who created it? Why do the members/the public need it? 

A goddess creates a secret society of demigods to protect them from monsters. 

A professor creates a secret society to teach illegal materials to his best students. 

A society of the undead striving for survival on Earth after the

Membership Requirements & Rules

How many newbies? How are they recruited? Any consequences if prospective members fail? Any initiation practices? Consequences for breaking the rules? 

Inheriting a particular bloodline: demigods, half-angels/demons, royal blood, etc. 

Becoming a supernatural creature: vampire, zombie, werewolf, etc. 

A rigorous interview/testing process (could be similar to a job interview)

Sending prospective members on a dangerous mission 

Existing members paying prospective members a visit in the middle of the night

Sending out dream messages and instructions for initiation constantly until potential members are obliged to come.

The Cover-Up Story 

How does your society keep itself hidden? How do they cover up for their mistakes if classified information leaks out? 

Killing any witnesses and outsiders. 

Exerting control over media/news/government organizations (either back-door or legally)

Using a magical cover: memory-redaction, mist/veil that manipulates appearances, etc. 

The power bestowed by the society upon their members are immediately withdrawn upon excommunication or if they break rules 

The cover-up story has to be stronger for larger, ancient secret societies to make it plausible that they’ve managed to survive hidden. Think of strong mechanisms that makes it the members’ own interests to keep the society protected, even though it may cost them their life. 

Funding and Maintenance

Where does the society get its money/weapons/materials from? 

Generational wealth that the members’ family possess. 

Secret governmental/university funding, obtained under someone else’s name

Having members who are placed in high-ranking position in companies, banks, the government, etc. 

Could be as simple as a trust fund/endowment fund run under a fake name (e.g paper company, a fake family name that is handed down from one society leader to another) 

Hope this helps!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! Also, join my Tumblr writing community for some more fun.

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

[theartofperishingslowly]

My Roman empire is the fact that we will never know the depths of The Secret History without Donna Tartt dropping a 10-hour explanation video where she decodes the reason for each and every line.

[kaynineacademy]

every. page. that. i. wrote. you. were. on. it.

[deepwaterwritingprompts]

Deep Water Prompt #3430

The geese we breed can eat anything, teeth all down their throats and the insides of their stomachs. They’ll grind up any secret and its associated bones until there’s nothing left. 

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt#61 Part 3

Danny was kind of in awe at the Batcave. Of course he hadn’t seen it, he never met his father either and really wasn’t looking forward to the conversations he was about to have with everyone here.

He looked around while Batman watched until he cleared his throat and motioned for Danny to follow him. They eventually made their way into a conference room where Red Robin was already sitting typing something away on his laptop. He smiled and stopped what he was doing when he noticed Batman and Danny walk into the room. 

“You do look just like Damian! Well I guess you are Damian in your universe, you said you came from an alternate world right?” Red Robin started as Batman and Danny took their seats at the table. 

Danny took a deep breath before he started talking, “Yeah, but I don’t go by Damian anymore.”

Batman and Red Robin seemed surprised at this, “Wait really?” Red Robin asked, looking genuinely surprised, “Your counterpart here really prides himself on being Bruce’s blood son.”

Danny remembered being told how great Father was by Mother but the fear of being found alive after he fled made it impossible for him to find out. He knew he should probably get back to his own dimension but the thought of getting to know Father even a little bit and even from another universe made him rethink getting back as soon as possible. 

“I… fled the League, I went into hiding, so I changed my name. I’m sorry but we’re strangers in my world.” Danny finally said after gathering his thoughts. He waited a moment but when no one said anything he continued, “You can call me Danny, I live in a small town called Amity Park in my world.”

“What else can you tell us about your world? If we can figure out what got you here we can figure out how to get you back,” Red Robin asked.

Danny thought about how much he should say after a moment. He could tell his counterpart here did trust his Father, he could tell from his body language from their brief encounter. He decided after a moment it would probably be fine to reveal himself here, if the him from this world trusted them then he would too. 

“This isn’t easy to tell you but I’m not getting back the way I came. The portal that got me here was one way.” Danny started, “There are natural portals that kind of pop in and out of all worlds that lead back to the ghost zone or Infinite Realms as I've heard it called by some of the ghosts.” 

He let them soak in the information before continuing, “The folks that adopted me built a portal to this realm and while I was in a fight I got thrown through a natural portal and ended up here”

Red Robin seemed to raise his eyebrow at him, “Ghosts?” he asked skeptically. 

Danny sighed again, “Yes, I don’t have an easy way to get back is what I’m trying to say”

Batman thought about things for a moment before speaking, “You're welcome to stay here until we can get you back home, I have a colleague through the Justice League that would know a thing or two about the supernatural. We can talk about things in the morning for now let's get some rest. It sounds like this will be a long term thing, so I will have Alfred take you in the morning to get some clothes and basic needs.”

Batman stood up and left the room probably to change out of the batsuit. A few seconds passed and then a knock on the door was heard and an elderly man wearing a suit walked in.

“Master Tim, Master Damian, Isn’t it time you both got ready for bed?” He asked.

“Oh right, Alfred, meet Danny, he’s Damian from an alternate world.” Red Robin said before standing up, “I’m headed out to change out as well. Danny, Alfred can show you to the room you’ll be staying in while you’re here.”

Danny turned to Alfred, “If you’ll follow me, Master Danny”

He followed the friendly butler out of the room and up some stairs before they got to the main floor. They turned down a few different hallways, honestly Danny would be more worried about getting lost if he didn’t have years of training navigating complex paths. 

When they finally got to Danny’s room they parted ways and Danny headed in.

It was a rather large room, larger than any room in the Fenton house that was for sure. Danny often forgot how rich his blood family was and now that he was here he was in awe of how different it was to his own life. The room even had its own attached bath. Danny took a warm shower before changing into some Pajamas that were left out for him. 

Eventually he drifted off to sleep. He’d explore the mansion and Gotham tomorrow.

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