#I had the main idea but then I was like '......I can make this work'

[finnlongman]

I'm not going to keep going on about this, because I didn't really mean to make a whole Thing of it, but there are two reasons it really bothers me when people say my books should have had a romance plotline/love interest:

They're saying they wish my protagonist's sexuality was different. When somebody says, "I wish this gay book was straight instead so that I could relate to it more," or whatever, we rightfully recognise that as homophobic. When somebody says, "I wish this aroace character had a love interest," people call that a personal preference and make excuses for why that's not the same thing. Given that my protagonist's sexuality is something she shares with me, it feels particularly unkind, because it's essentially saying, "Lives like yours aren't interesting to me, I wish you had a different sexuality." Ouch.

I may have been exaggerating when I said 99.9% of YA books have a romance plotline... but not by much. It is everywhere. If you want a YA book with romance, you don't have to make any effort to find one, because nine times out of ten, whatever book you pick up will have one. It might be the main plot, it might be the subplot, but it'll be there. I was told repeatedly that I would have to have romance if I wanted my YA books to be published, because the category insists on it. So if you want YA books with romance: basically every other book is for you. It's not like it's a rarity that you were hoping I would finally give you. You have the entire cake; leave us our crumbs.

Like I said in the tags on my original post, this wasn't about one specific person or review. Please don't single anybody out if you've seen them say something similar to this. If it happened once, it wouldn't bother me; it's the pattern, and years of being told before publication that I would have to compromise on this element of the story if I wanted to make it, and social media marketing trends that focus almost exclusively on romance tropes and make it hard to engage when you don't have them.

And, on top of that, it's the weird anxiety of knowing that my next book, the Bisclavret retelling, is more romance-heavy, and while I want it to succeed, there's a bittersweetness to the idea that my yearning book might succeed where my aroace books didn't, purely because romance is marketable and friendship isn't.

(Even though I know there are so many other factors -- different genre, different category, different format, different publisher, different style, and a retelling that can appeal to an existing audience rather than my own characters and story that have no prior fanbase. It still feels like the romance will be what makes the difference.)

As I said on Bluesky yesterday, talking about both my fiction and my academic work:

Okay. That's all.

[fadebolt]

I don't have much more to add here.

It portrays its message in a very overt manner - and I think that very much works for its benefit. The real world equivalent of this type of cycle is a lot subtler, and seems a lot more innocuous on the surface. But by exaggerating it, and making it a lot more 'clear', the reader gets a really good idea of how horrid it actually is, which they possibly wouldn't have taken note of, otherwise.

It's funny how I also learned of Metamorphosis through my high school literature class, and it was the piece that stuck with me the most (rather than something from the beautiful Hungarian materials, which was the vast majority of what we covered).

Though a large part of why I remember it is also how much I actually physically struggled to get through it. From what I remember, it was somewhat visceral, and I had to make sure to occasionally take little walks, and keep the window open, so that I wouldn't start feeling dizzy/sick. (Just note that I also imagined it to be a lot more gruesome, than how a lot of the art portrays the story. I also have a bit of a vivid imagination (which decided to picture Gregor as a giant centipede, for some inexplicable reason), and I get the same dizzy/sick feeling when I look at detailed images of cells, so I'm almost certainly an outlier here. Don't ask what's going on with my brain, cus I honestly have no idea.)

But its themes were also incredibly well portrayed, and dare I say, have actually affected me. Because not only has it highlighted the vicious cycle that neurodiverent people go through, but also that 'trying to become 'normal'' is neither a feasible, nor an ideal solution, and is not something that anyone should be fully forced into. Despite its grim undertones, Metamorphosis actually encouraged me to try and stand out in a positive manner, instead of being stuck as an 'insect that is poorly mimic-ing what 'normal' is like', the way the main character did.

It's inspiring, but in an unusual way. It's hard to put it into words, but I think any neurodiverent person will get it.

So yeah, I can absolutely recommend it to anyone who's looking for a more dark story with creepy elements that tackle some heavy psychological subject matters. I wouldn't say it's for everyone, but if you are part of the target audience (which... most of you Tumblr users are xd), then it's absolutely going to be one of your most memorable and impactful reads.

And it's a really pleasant surprise to see that it's so popular and well-known on this site. The story certainly earned that ^-^

[darkmatilda]

𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your relationship is still very new, and you're getting ready to tell the rest of the team about it. in the meantime, you find yourselves again in another unusual hotel...where suddenly spencer starts acting very strangely?

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: glasses spencer reid x newbau!female!reader, fluff, intimacy conversation, spender being adorably shy

𝐚/𝐧: 'matilda how many more times are you gonna write that one bed trope' AS MUCH AS I CAN TILL I DIE btw i wrote this fic over a pretty long period of time, had a main idea (supposedly), but in the end i'm not happy with how it turned out—kinda all over the place. anyway, enjoy

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4.8k

"My five dollars"

Spencer sighed and reached into his jacket pocket to pull out the slightly crumpled bill. You closed it in your hand, a triumphant smile on your face.

"Let's make bets more often, darling," you suggested.

When you used that nickname, his gaze briefly flickered over your face, as if studying whether it had been said purely in jest.

"You’re puffing up like you just invented the wheel," he said, gently shaking his head from side to side. "And just to remind you, all you did was park parallel."

"Parked parallel, indeed. And my coffee?"

He also handed you the paper cup he’d been holding while you performed those incredibly complicated car maneuvers that the bet was about. It was morning, the first day back at work. January, the first days of the new year. You had just arrived at the office parking lot in your car, after spending the night at your place. Everything around you still seemed to smell of that melancholic blend of the past mixed with the fresh scent of the coming months. And coffee, bought at the café on the way.

You took a tiny sip of the hot drink. Spencer, it seemed, hadn’t touched his even once. Both of you, consciously or not, were stretching out the moment just a little longer. And, truth be told, you could afford to. The parking lot around you was only beginning to fill with cars, suggesting the early hour. It was nice to sit there together, sharing the quiet without any discomfort.

You realized this was supposed to be your first day at work as a couple.

A warm, pleasant feeling spread through you at the sound of that word, even though you hadn’t said it out loud. It still felt a little unreal. You had grown closer during the New Year’s Eve party at your place. It was only after that shared—and not just one—kiss that a new perspective dawned on you about the past months of your relationship, revealing some undefined emotions.

"I was wondering..." Spender suddenly began, his brows furrowed slightly, pulling you out of your thoughts.

His gaze suddenly fell on his watch.

"We still have some time," you reassured him calmly. "Let me guess. You've been wondering what would happen if we crossed the DNA of a jellyfish that can reverse its life cycle with the human genome?"

A small smile flickered across his face, a touch of affection despite the rather serious expression on the rest of his face.

"That too," he admitted, nodding. Then he opened his mouth, with some visible hesitation, as if a particular question was troubling him. You shifted in the driver's seat, preparing for whatever he wanted to discuss, whatever he wanted to ask. "How...how are we supposed to act...you know, towards each other? At work?"

For a moment, your brain didn’t understand what he meant. But then, a fleeting oh escaped you as the meaning of his words sank in, and you realized that it was indeed something worth considering. Somehow, over the past few days, neither of you had brought it up. You had just gone back to work, without any reflection on the fact that none of your colleagues knew about the progress in your relationship. About how it had suddenly taken a step to a completely different level.

Spencer studied your face in silence, waiting for a response. As he looked at you, coming up with a logical solution became incredibly difficult. Before you finally said anything, you let out two half-intelligent mutters, like a fish thrown onto the surface.

"We have to tell them," you finally said, stating the obvious. "Somehow. Maybe...we can meet at my place this weekend. All of us. Or we could go out somewhere, and then tell them calmly."

"This weekend?" Spencer repeated cautiously.

It was Monday.

Suddenly, it became incredibly hard to read the expression on his face. He was facing you, his brows slightly furrowed, a look of uncertainty, almost withdrawal. The air inside your car thickened, making the silence even more palpable. He seemed almost concerned, downcast. You froze, wondering if you had really said something wrong.

"So until then," he started more quietly, "are we just supposed to hide it from them?"

“I'm not sure hide is the right word," you replied with a grimace. "I just...I meant, maybe we should wait. For a better moment, you know? Instead of walking into the office on the first Monday of the year, when half the people are still nursing hangovers, and saying hey, guess what? we hooked up!”

His expression hadn't changed, despite your pretty honest explanation.

"You don't like the idea," you stated, rather than asking. You made sure your voice sounded gentle, adjusting it to the situation. "I can see that, Spencer."

"Okay, you're right, I don't like it," he admitted with a sudden coolness, his lips tightening slightly between sentences. "Because...I don't get your reasoning. Or, maybe I just don’t know if this is really what you mean."

Slightly surprised, you shook your head.

"What else could I—"

"I don’t know if it's really about that, or maybe..." he cut off, looking into your eyes as if hoping you'd understand by now. But you didn't have the skill to read his mind, no matter how remarkable it was—it was also incredibly complex. "Or maybe...I don’t know, you just don’t take it seriously. That's why you don't want to tell anyone about it."

You gasped, finally understanding his behavior. Realizing the hidden concern.

"You’re worried I don't take us seriously?"

Spencer shrugged briefly.

"You know, if that's really the case, I'd rather know now..."

You leaned in to catch one of his hands, which had been clasped over his chest. You broke his defensive stance, pulling him toward you by his long fingers, simply holding it for a moment before speaking again. With a smile. A slightly amused smile.

"Of course, I take us seriously, you idiot," you snorted. A sense of relief washed over you. Earlier, he’d seemed genuinely worried, and you’d been expecting far worse things than the fact that your guy literally paled with anxiety over worrying you weren’t as invested in your fresh relationship as he was. Well, out of context, it sounded like a very serious concern. But the context was, you took it seriously, and you were incredibly happy he did too. "You know what? Maybe you're right. Why should we make idiots out of ourselves for the next week? Let’s just walk in like this."

You motioned toward your intertwined fingers, raising them as if they were a trophy earned through sweat and tears. Spencer followed their movement with his gaze, initially surprised, but then the corner of his mouth twitched, and he tilted his head with a quiet chuckle.

"We can do it your way," he said, taking control of your hands, clasping them with both of his. He looked relieved; your reassurance and the sincerity in your voice clearly calmed him. You smiled too, finally seeing that peace on his face. "I really don't mind waiting a few days. It might even be… interesting. One of us might not hold out and accidentally slip up."

You raised an eyebrow in a teasing manner.

"Another bet, Reid?" you clicked your tongue. You kept eye contact with him, feeling his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of your hand. He seemed so unaffected, as if he didn’t realize he was doing it. "You already lost five bucks about…ten minutes ago. At this rate, you'll be broke within a month, and we'll have to skip that overpriced coffee downtown. Now that would be a real horror story, speaking as a citizen of the first world."

"Didn't say anything about another bet!”

"Too late," you shot back, turning his hand and taking it in a more formal handshake. "Handshakes sealed the deal."

He rolled his eyes, but a half-smile lingered on his face. He still hadn’t let go of your hand.

"I think we should get going," he said reluctantly.

You sighed with the same enthusiasm. You really felt stuck to that seat, right next to him.

"You know, being late on the first day of the new year should be fully justified..."

"We really need to go."

He was right. But before either of you could move to get out of the car, he leaned forward. Gently cupping your cheek, he drew you in, his lips meeting yours in a soft, lingering kiss. You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his touch, and for a brief moment, the world outside seemed to vanish—just the two of you, in that quiet, perfect stillness.

His face suddenly turned to the side, noticing something through the windshield. You frowned and looked in the same direction.

"That's Gideon," you remarked out loud, even though both of you had already spotted the silhouette of your coworker stepping out of a car that had just parked a short distance ahead. He wasn’t looking your way yet, but he could at any moment. "Quick, hide!"

Okay, you were completely honest with yourself. It wasn’t about being afraid of getting caught. After all, there was nothing strange about two coworkers arriving at work together in the same car—it was even very eco-friendly. You just liked the idea of shoving Reid under the seat. And the poor thing, so thrown off by the mock authority in your voice and the situation itself, did it without a second thought.

When Gideon finally noticed you, you cheerfully waved at him.

"Fuck," you muttered suddenly.

"What is it?" Spencer returned to his seat, adjusting his glasses on his nose. "Do you think he saw me?"

You shook your head.

"I just realized…this is your car."

*

"Okay, draw a straw."

"Morgan, how old are you?" You shook your head in disbelief, staring at the man standing across from you in the motel lobby. The place where you were spending the night this time was very tidy, with subdued colors, but, as tradition demanded, there had to be some sort of problem. You had one room for two, but one of them only had a double bed. So, you had to decide which two lucky people would share it. "Five?"

"And a half. Listen, we have to decide somehow. Let fate do it. The two who pull the shortest will sleep together. Simple as that."

Before you could say anything else, Garcia approached, weighed down by her bags. Yes, her—rarely did any case require her to be on-site, but it wasn’t completely unheard of.

"Oh, come on, Sweetie," she muttered to you, setting her luggage down and hunching slightly to catch her breath. "Let him feel like a kid again for a moment. He doesn’t get the chance often."

You sighed in resignation, but before you could pull one of the purple straws (how did he even get them?) that Morgan was holding in such a way that their lengths were hidden, you glanced around briefly. Sometimes you arrived at hotels at different times, some getting there faster, others later. Spencer and JJ had just walked in, both wearing coats to shield them from the cold January air. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him and his fogged-up glasses, which he quietly cursed under his breath—judging by the movement of his lips. However, you quickly composed yourself, returning to a neutral expression. It had only been two days since your agreement to keep the details of your relationship hidden, and so far, neither of you had slipped or forgotten to keep quiet around the others. Well, out of the two of you, you were probably struggling with it more—being a bit of a clinger, sometimes even your body would naturally gravitate towards his when standing next to him.

“Why are you standing here?” Spencer asked, approaching you. “Is there a problem with the rooms?”

“Is there ever not a problem with the rooms?” you responded, laughing. “Some poor souls are going to have to share a bed,” you explained, making brief eye contact with him. You were sure only he could catch the emphasis you placed on poor souls.

Of course, you wouldn't mind ending up in the same room. It wasn't about the fact that you were together—before, you’d shared rooms and even beds, and you were used to it by now. You would've probably offered it yourself, if it weren’t for the potential suspicion and that silly bet, which was starting to lose its point in your eyes. Maybe you should’ve just told them a few days ago?

“Oh,” he said shortly, crossing his arms with a bit of stiffness. His brown bag hung from his shoulder. He held your gaze for a moment, but his expression wasn’t as amused as yours. His brows furrowed slightly as he cleared his throat. “Poor them. Who’s it going to be?”

You slightly puffed out your lips slightly, watching him with a sharp look. What was it that made him so uneasy—the fact that you might not be in the same room this time?

“We were just about to decide,” Penelope replied, glancing at her friend with a teasing smile. “Morgan’s going to show us a game he learned today in kindergarten."

 JJ couldn't help but snort.

 “Just draw a straw…!”

You couldn’t recall another moment when all of you, every single one, rolled your eyes in perfect unison. But that’s exactly what happened when Derek once again enthusiastically explained the rules, as though they weren’t already ridiculously simple. In the end, each of you reached for one of the straws he was holding.

JJ went first. She pulled hers quickly, and it was of regular length, so it was immediately clear she wasn’t one of the poor souls. She raised her hand in a mock display of triumph, earning a few amused chuckles from the group.

Your turn came next. You approached the task with a certain gravity, as though the fate of the night depended entirely on the straw you chose. You studied each one carefully, as if their lengths could somehow be deciphered from the way they were arranged.

You wouldn’t have minded drawing the shortest straw. But only on one condition. 

Morgan looked at you with mock sympathy. Your straw wasn’t even half as long as JJ’s, which seemed to settle things. Now, it was just a matter of figuring out which of the remaining two—Reid or Garcia���would end up joining you.

Spencer reached out with a calculated, deliberate motion, his eyes immediately darting to yours when his straw turned out to be...one of the longer ones.

You shot him a look of bitter disappointment before your gaze shifted to your soon-to-be roommate. Penelope didn’t seem disheartened—on the contrary, an enthusiastic smile lit up her face. She opened her mouth to say something, but you caught the fleeting shift in her expression and the subtle flicker of her eyes.

“Oh no,” she suddenly gasped, her voice filled with exaggerated horror, even though she’d just seemed perfectly content, or at least not displeased, at the idea of sharing a room with you. “No, absolutely not. There’s no way I’m sleeping in the same room with her. Do you guys even know how loud she snores?”

Lies! You wanted to yell, but stopped yourself as realization dawned. Garcia was a good actress—you had to give her that—but her flair for dramatics always bordered on overkill, making it far too easy to catch her in a lie.

“I’m not used to traveling as often as you guys are,” Penelope continued in the same over-the-top tone. “I barely get a wink of sleep in a new place when it’s quiet, let alone with someone next to me snoring like a steam engine…”

“Love you too, Pen,” you muttered dryly.

“Someone has to switch with me, please,” she concluded, clasping her fingers together in a dramatic plea and pulling off the best puppy-dog eyes you’d seen in a long time. Well, at least since the time Reid had tried to coax you into reciting one of your old, cringe-worthy high school poems—the existence of which you’d only ever confessed to him.

“JJ?” Penelope turned her hopeful gaze toward her.

“Not a chance. My straw was the longest,” JJ replied, smug and immovable.

“Don’t even think about asking me,” Morgan chimed in before anyone could so much as glance in his direction.

And so, all eyes inevitably fell on Reid.

He awkwardly scratched the back of his ear, not looking directly at you.

“Well, I always carry earplugs with me…”

“Then it’s settled!” Garcia declared, hoisting her luggage with sudden determination. One of her heavy bags was thrust into Morgan’s arms so abruptly that he staggered backward under its weight. “Sweet dreams, everyone! Don’t let the bedbugs bite, and may the sheep you count tonight be extra fluffy and adorable. Goodnight!”

Just before she fully turned to leave, she sent you a quick, knowing wink.

You shook your head in disbelief, but the faintest smile danced on your lips. You didn’t even bother questioning how she knew. Only one conclusion circled your mind. Penelope could be really impossible. Thankfully, being impossible didn’t disqualify her from also being the best friend under this vast, sprawling sky. Period.

*

"What do you think about starting a tier list for all the hotels we stay in?” you remarked as both of you crossed the threshold of the room. Your eyes immediately landed on its unexpected feature. “Or at least the weirdest ones. Like the one with walls the color of cat pee where the power went out in the middle of the night. That one’s definitely at the top..."

"I don’t really get the point of a mirror on the ceiling," Reid said after a pause, looking over his shoulder at you. He was standing a few steps away, near the bed in the glaring white room with birchwood floors. "Who wants to look at themselves while trying to fall asleep?”

You raised an eyebrow, unsure if he was joking or not. He raised an eyebrow too, not understanding why you did that. Okay, he wasn’t joking.

"You know, the main point isn’t really to look at yourself while falling asleep," you explained, with a bit of amused pity. Your gaze also briefly lingered on the glass surface above the bed, designed to reflect the bodies of people lying in bed. You thought it was a surprising addition but weren’t planning on spending too much time on it for now. You just wanted to get your shoes off—shoes you’d been wearing since sunrise—and finally lie down on something soft. "By the way, I’m taking a shower first."

Spencer only muttered something under his breath in response. Before disappearing behind the bathroom door, you cast one last glance at him. He seemed quiet—strangely quiet. Not that you were expecting his usual chatter after a long day of work; it could weigh on anyone and leave them feeling subdued. Maybe he just needed an extra moment to unwind, and that’s where his restraint came from.

Anyway, you took a quick shower. The pressure of the hot water nearly scalded your skin, which meant you’d be spared the bitter complaints, grumbling, and dramatic resignation threats from Morgan the next day. You felt too tired to linger under the stream for long. After a few minutes, you stepped out of the shower, changed into your sleepwear, and gathered the clothes you’d worn all day from the floor.

You and Spencer passed each other in the doorway without a word.

Glancing back over your shoulder, you frowned. The bathroom door shut behind him, and some concerned question froze on your lips. For a moment, you stood still, debating whether you should ask it. But then the sound of running water reached your ears, and you figured he probably wouldn’t hear you anyway.

Instead, you decided to climb into bed, wait for him, and ask about it then. Whatever it was clearly weighed on him, and the fact that something was bothering him bothered you. Funny how that worked, right?

You spent that moment lying on your back, eyes wide open, afraid you might accidentally fall asleep if you closed them. A comfortable bed during a case—it felt like pure luxury. You were waiting for Spencer to finally emerge from the bathroom so you could curl up next to him, fall asleep to the fresh post-shower scent of him, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

Just like you had spent half the day after the New Year’s party at your place—wrapped around each other, arguing over who would get up to make coffee and whether you should start cleaning up the mess from the night before.

You tucked your arm beneath your head, gazing at your fully-covered form reflected in the ceiling mirror.

“Did you find a portal to another galaxy in there or what?” you finally called out, impatient. He’d been in there way too long. And coming from you—a known lover of long, indulgent baths—that was saying something.

“Sorry,” he murmured as he finally emerged from the bathroom, wearing a gray t-shirt instead of his usual neat work attire and tie perfectly knotted at his neck. He still had his glasses on, which he might’ve forgotten to remove, judging by the way he slid into bed to your left without taking them off.

You watched him closely, rubbing at your tired eye. The shower had managed to wash away about half of the tension from Spencer’s face, but the other half stubbornly remained.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” he said softly.

“I didn’t have to,” you admitted simply, watching as he carefully adjusted himself, finding the right position. The lamp on his side of the bed cast a warm glow over his skin. You were both half-sitting, you comfortably propped up against the soft pillows, and him barely leaning back against them. “But I wanted to. We really lucked out with this room, huh? Penelope is one of a kind.”

"Did you tell her about us?"

"I didn’t say a word. She's just more observant than the rest”

He nodded, agreeing with you. You thought he might say something else about it, maybe make a joke about the bet, but he didn’t. You yawned.

"You seem tired.”

“How did you figure that out, Sherlock?” you asked, your sarcasm light, without a hint of malice. “You too, by the way. Although, it’s not just that you seem tired—you are tired, at first glance. Or maybe something’s bothering you. Or maybe both. Am I right?”

He shrugged slowly.

“No, as far as I know.”

“Oh, come on,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. You pulled your knees closer to your chest, shifting into a full sitting position with slightly bent legs. You leaned forward just enough to gently take his glasses off and fold them, your fingers brushing briefly against his cheek. He didn’t look at what you were doing, his gaze fixed on your face under the soft fall of his lashes. The wonderful color of his eyes, the slight hesitation in your movements as you moved a little closer to kiss him—a fleeting, tender press of lips.

“Something’s going on, and you can tell me about it.”

“Or we could just go to sleep,” he suggested quietly. “It’s been a long day. You must be tired, I mean, you yawned a little while ago.”

You tilted your head, studying him thoughtfully. Was he really trying this hard to dodge the topic? How could you get him to open up?

“I know blackmail isn’t exactly healthy for relationships,” you started finally, turning his glasses over in your hands, “but I’m not giving these back until you tell me.”

Both corners of his mouth twitched at once.

“Oh no, what am I going to do now?” he replied with feigned concern, gently shaking his head. Then he lowered his voice.  “This is exactly what I’d say if I didn’t also have contacts with me.”

"Sometimes I just want to…ugh."

"Violence isn't too healthy for relationships either."

"Just like not opening up. Remember what we talked about a few days ago in the car? You were worried I don't take you seriously. How else am I supposed to prove I'm serious if I don’t ask what’s wrong when I can tell something’s off?"

Your explanation sounded a bit jumbled, but he had to get the general idea. The reference to that specific conversation and his own words seemed to hit a sensitive spot.

"I didn’t want you to feel like you have to prove anything to me," he quickly corrected, swallowing hard. His chest fell, and the sigh felt like surrender. "I'm sorry. I just don't want you to worry about it. It's nothing serious. I’m just tired...and a little stressed."

"Stressed?" you repeated, surprised. "You're stressed? But about what?"

He hesitated for a moment.

"Just... about this," he said vaguely, his gaze shifting from you to your reflection in the glass ceiling. "Us, I mean."

"What do you mean?" you asked quietly, still confused, gently shaking your head. "We've shared rooms before, so if it’s about that, I really don’t get it."

"Yeah, but never like this. In a room with a king-sized bed and a huge mirror right above us," he explained, his voice tinged with embarrassment, clearly wishing he could just stop talking. "Okay, I know this sounds dumb, I know it does, but I don’t know why it’s messing with my head like this. I just...I kinda thought maybe you'd want to..."

"Spencer," you interrupted, saving him from going any further. You saw a flicker of relief in his eyes. You weren’t sure what emotion was bubbling up inside you now—whether it was still confusion or just pure amusement. "You were worried I’d want to have sex with you?” 

You didn’t even need to wait for his answer to know you’d hit the nail on the head. Considering how your relationship had grown out of friendship, slowly evolving over time and shared experiences instead of a sudden burst of passion, you weren’t surprised you hadn’t yet taken that step together. It was something special in its own way—there had never been any pressure, and you hadn’t expected that he might feel the exact opposite.

So when you finally figured out what had been bothering him all this time, you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and genuine.

"You were right, you know. It does sound kind of dumb," you said, unable to keep the smile from your face. His expression remained unreadable, his posture betraying a hint of anticipation as he waited for the rest of your reaction. "But also…I don’t know, kind of adorable? But seriously, Spencer, we don’t have to do anything if you’re not ready."

"It’s not that I don’t want to at all," he clarified quickly, almost too firmly. "I mean...it’d be our first time. Together. That’s what I mean. And I guess I just didn’t expect it to...happen tonight, here, of all places."

"I didn’t either," you admitted truthfully, the smile still lingering on your face. Unlike him, you didn’t feel even a hint of embarrassment. "I figured we’d just go to sleep, especially since we both already admitted we’re exhausted."

"Fair point," he mumbled.

"Honestly, this has to be the biggest example of overthinking I’ve ever seen anyone put themselves through, Spencer," you teased lightly, shaking your head.

For a moment, he stayed silent, but it felt like he was letting out a breath he’d been holding.

“You’re gonna have to get used to that,” he admitted finally, his voice soft. But then, you caught the faint glimmer of a smile tugging at his lips.

He even started to laugh, a quiet chuckle filled with a sort of amused self-awareness. Meanwhile, you leaned out of the bed to place his glasses on the nightstand on your side. If he wanted them in the morning, he’d have no choice but to reach right over you.

“But just for the record,” he began after a moment, as you reached for the edge of the blanket that had slipped off you earlier, pulling it back up to wrap around yourself. Your head was only inches from the pillow now. You gave him a questioning nod. He, too, was getting ready to lie down, finally looking genuinely relaxed. “How pathetic do you think that was, on a scale from one to ten?”

You just rolled your eyes, not even dignifying the question with an answer.

“In the interest of science,” he pressed, “one to ten?”

“Pathetic enough that you’ll need to redeem yourself a little in my eyes,” you sighed dramatically. “Go on, I’m waiting for your ideas.”

“I think I might have a few,” he replied with a soft chuckle.

You prolonged the kiss, savoring the deep sense of comfort it brought you. The two of you lay face to face, and you gently brushed a few still-damp strands of hair from Spencer's forehead, though they stubbornly fell back into place. Eventually, you gave up with a soft sigh against his lips. Spencer kept his eyes closed, lost in a quiet bliss, even as you pulled back just slightly, leaving only an inch of space between you.

"Can I turn off the light now?" you asked, as always. The question had become a tradition since you'd learned about his complicated relationship with darkness.

He hummed in agreement, nodding faintly. Leaning over him, you reached for the bedside lamp on his side. The room was instantly bathed in darkness, your reflections in the mirror above fading into obscurity.

You didn’t fully return to your original spot. Instead, you shifted closer, resting your head comfortably against his chest. The hotel pillows were unbelievably plush, you had to admit, but that night, you chose this over anything else.

"You’re not asleep," he noted gently after about fifteen minutes. He cleared his throat. "During sleep, a person’s breathing becomes slower and more regular. You know, if you’re uncomfortable here, you don’t have to…"

"I’m listening to your heartbeat," it slipped out of you. Though it was true, you hadn’t planned on admitting it out loud. "Nothing sinister, just to be clear. I’m not planning to rip it out of your chest or anything like that. It just works for me."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Like those videos that imitate the sound of a crackling fireplace. Pretty calming."

"My heartbeat reminds you of the sound of a fireplace?" he said, a glint of confusion in his softly hoarse voice.

You sighed, in the darkness, he couldn’t see the faint smile painting itself on your face, pressed against his chest.

"Sweet dreams, silly."

tag list: @she-wont-miss @mggslover @nyeddleblog @dylanobrienswife0420 @wmoony

@heddgie @khxna @marauder-exe-old @yujyujj @charleyreid @kitty-kai @sp3ncelle @pleasantwitchgarden @beesin03 @misserabella @re1dsb1xch @trulymadlydarling @cynbx @penelopegarciaismygf @awordsmith

[jinxlovebot]

Girlfriend! Jinx x Kiramman! Fem! Reader.

Jinx and the reader have a forbidden and secret relationship.An unlikely relationship that for some reason happened and worked out.Jinx knocks on the reader's window in the middle of the night just to see her, because she misses her. The reader reluctantly lets Jinx in, even though she's afraid Caitlyn will hear and find Jinx there. (Jinx didn't kill Cassandra here; Caitlyn's hatred for Jinx is fueled by something else and occurs during the events of the second season, when Caitlyn is obsessed with finding Jinx with all that dark style, haha). They talk, maybe a little angst in the conversation, they kiss, make out, etc. The ending could be Caitlyn going to her sister's room after having heard something, but when she gets there the reader is "asleep" or something else you prefer. You can change it however you want. I really liked this idea, but I feel like I couldn't give enough details. I hope you liked it, have a good day!

I LOVE THIS!! i hope i wrote it up to your standards!! thank you for the ask mwah <3

“we’re meant to be” - jinx x kiramman! fem! reader fluff with a little smut

its late at night, everyone in your house is asleep and you can’t even close your eyes. your so frustrated from the lack of sleep and you dont even know how late it is. you reach for your phone to call your girlfriend but it went straight to voicemail. “fuck. she’s probably asleep.” you groan in annoyance and push the covers off you and walk to your bathroom, you splash warm water on your face sighing in relief when you hear a low tapping noise in your room. you freeze, is someone awake? you turn of your tap and dry your face when you hear the tapping again. “what the hell..” it was coming from your window, you crawl over to your window on your cold wooden floor and peak through the curtains. you jump when you see jinx waving at you pointing to the lock of your window.

you slide your window up and pull jinx in, jinx went to greet you with a loud exclamation but you covered her mouth with your hands, “jinx! shush! do you know what time it is?” you whisper, scrunching your eyebrows taking your hands down. “yes, sorry i forgot!” she giggles and walks over to your bed, “ soo, why are you here anyway?” “sheesh! i cant visit my girlfriend?” you smile and lightly smack her shoulder, “i missed you toots, i had to come see you.” your face flushed, “im glad you did, i couldnt even sleep.” “me neither!” jinx laughs and crawls up to your bed and slips herself in the covers, she sighs and pats beside her. you crawl up to her and cuddle up to her side. “jinx, i couldnt sleep again.” you mumble into her shoulder, you always struggle with sleeping when jinx isnt near and she knows that. she knows how frustrating it is with not being able to sleep, “i know baby, im sorry for leaving you alone at night its just..”, you already know what she’ll say shes from the underground and your from piltover, and caitlyn your sister hates jinx’ guts. you look at jinx and whisper “no body is ever changing how i feel for you, no one.”

she looks your way and traces your face from your ears to your lips, she grazes your bottom lips locking eyes with you the whole time. you grab the back of her head and kiss her lips, jinx slips her tounge in and you both fight for dominance. jinx obviously winning, she smiles into your mouth and grabs your waist to pull you on her lap. straddling her you tangle your hands in her hair when you heard a sound from the main bathroom. you pull away and jinx raises her eyebrow and tilts her head in confusion, you put a finger up to her lips and point to your door. you hear footsteps in the hallway, getting nearer. “jinx! under my bed now!” jinx hurriedly crawls off the bed and hides under your bed, you pull the covers over you and breathe slow and deep to seem like your asleep. someone opens your door, you squint your eye to see and it was caitlyn. “y/n… you awake?” she whispers, your heart beating so fast you swore you could hear it. you make a sound and rub your eyes sitting up, “oh sorry! i didnt mean to wake you, i thought i heard something… sorry! goodnight” caitlyn says closing your door, you wait until you hear her bedroom door shut when you flop your head over your bed to look under it.

you see jinx absolutely pissing herself laughing covering her mouth, her face almost turning pink. you smile, and she creeps from underneath your bed to back onto it. “your so bad at faking it!!” jinx says softly, “yeah yeah, whatever. come here” you pull her in for a kiss, kiramman or not your meant to be with jinx and no one can separate you two, not even family.

[nastasya--filippovna]

I wanna say this real quick. I'm super sick and tired of hearing all those people right now who keep saying "Did Terry know about this?" "Michael and David are so vocal about women rights and stuff so why are they silent; I bet they are complicit" "Ew I always hated Amanda Plamer's fake punk feminism I knew she was a liar. She is also equally guilty".

CAN YOU GUYS STOP! FOR ONE MINUTE!!

Stop making this about other people. Stop diverting the attention from the main criminal. Stop diluting the narrative. The only thing it does is make him seem less bad because suddenly y'all are not focusing on the actual horror of his crimes but instead on whether someone made a twitter statement about him. Why? Does it help assuage your own moral conundrum right now? help justify the fact that you too are probably benefitting from a system that encourages and protects people like NG?

We don't know Terry. he's dead. We cannot possibly know if he knew or not, if he ever said or did something about this. (and btw some close friends are testifying that he had some idea of NG's creepiness and had distanced himself from him but we'll never know for sure).

Michale and David are completely bound by their contracts and probably a lot of NDAs right now. they're probably more horrified than me and you too bcs we never personally knew NG. Imagine being close to someone, liking them as a friend, inviting them into your homes and then realising how fucking terrible that man is.

Stop speculating if they knew or not. Stop saying "DT wanted to have background checks on his co-workers in any project after some co-star turned out to be a domestic abuser so how could he have not known about NG." None of us knew. So many people did not know. He had curated this nice gentlemanly image of himself to such perfection that no one knew and I think we should forgive ourselves and others for not knowing.

As for Amanda.... she is complicit no doubt. But she is not the main bad guy. In the words of terry Pratchett people like her ".... they accept evil not because they say yes, but because they don't say no.” Instead of taking your anger out on her, take it out on the one who totally deserves it. Why are we all, in the 21 century, still behaving like a wild, unruly medieval crowd who just wants to throw tomatoes and eggs at anyone just to vent out our feelings and then go back to working for our fief-masters and cruel kings without question.

[nikoniclove]

okay I rewatched greys anatomy and had an idea for a cute little one shot maybe for different kinds of firsts? I think it would be set very early into their relationship, Ace still tries to settle in at the bau and it starts to snow. She gets all excited and maybe a little emotional about it, given that she was in war zones the last few years and missed the snow.

Inspired by Lexies scene in s5 e1: “the snow! It’s so pretty, it’s like a fairytale.”

I don’t see Ace getting that emotional or openly soft but maybe a little?

First Snow

It’s cliched to say you can smell it in the air, but it feels that way. You watch the weather app like a hawk, repeatedly refreshing it to make sure you’re getting the most up-to-date information. Emily brings you a fresh cup of coffee, complete with a smile. She sits on the edge of your desk, her black heeled boots knocking your filing cabinet slightly. “What are you looking at on your phone every ten minutes?”

 

“It’s supposed to snow,” you answer offhandedly, splitting your focus between the file and the weather app.

 

Emily nods, tracing the lip of her mug. She’s trying to figure you out, learn something new about you. It’s not a bad thing. You’re just not used to people being interested in getting to know you. History tells you to keep all personal information close to the chest. “You like snow?”

 

“Not really. Sort of.”

 

She tries again, twisting your chair with her foot. “You’re checking the weather with that kind of frequency because you don’t really like snow?” You frown at her, unsure of what to say. Her head tilts to the left, a curious and encouraging look on her face. “Is the bullpen not the place for this conversation?”

 

“No, it’s not that. It’s just snow.”

 

“Do you want to go walk outside?”

 

“It’s the middle of the work day, Em.”

 

Her smile is so kind like she’s guiding you through something with the patience of a saint. “This isn’t a prison. You can take a break and go walk outside. C’mon. Get your coat.” You’re hesitant. It seems like a silly reason to leave your case files unattended. “It’s okay. C’mon. I’ll go with you.”

 

When you’re bundled up in your coat and gloves, you follow Emily through the elevator bank and out the lobby. Away from the bureau building even slightly, Emily slips her hand in yours. “So snow,” she prompts.

 

“I was deployed the last few winters. Not a lot of snow in the Middle East,” you explain quietly, your gaze stuck on the cracks in the sidewalk as you walk side by side with your girlfriend. That’s still a fairly new word. You’re not used to it yet. You feel like you’re constantly making stupid mistakes and needing to be taught the ropes of being a civilian, being in a relationship, having sex, all sorts of things. Snow seems like a very easy thing to share, and you fight your instinct to keep it closed away. “I don’t really like the cold or the snow. I can’t do the activities I like the way I like them when it snows, but I missed the snow the last few years I guess.”

 

Emily squeezes your hand in a wordless thank you for letting her in even a little bit. “I get it. The holidays we spent in Middle Eastern embassies always felt more sterile.” You pause, looking up at the sky. You can feel it. It’s in the air. “Tonight or tomorrow night, when it’s had time to accumulate, you and me, we’ll get some hot chocolate and go walk in the fresh snow.”

 

You can’t help the smile that splits across your face. Emily tugs you off the main sidewalk into a slight enclave. Her leather glove is worn and smooth against your cheek. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

 

“Maybe if I kiss you in the snow, I can change your opinion about it. It can be wonderful, beautiful. Just like you.” Your teeth pierce your bottom lip, as the embarrassment of the compliment drapes over you like a blanket. It warms your cheeks and the tips of your ears with a deep red. “What?” Emily nudges your nose with hers. “Blushing because your girlfriend thinks you’re pretty?”

 

“Em,” you exhale nervously. “We should… we should get back to work.”

 

“Okay, my love.”

 

“Can I ask you something?” 

 

“Anything.” You fidget with the buttons on your jacket instead of looking at her. You want to know why Emily calls you that. You found the nerve to ask JJ about the pet name she uses for you back when you were just sleeping with them. “It’s okay,” Emily encourages. “I’ll do my best to answer honestly. If not, I’ll tell you why I can’t.”

 

“Why do you call me that? Love? Or my love? JJ started calling me ‘baby’ the first time I slept with you. She said it just slipped out.”

 

“Two questions,” Emily starts. “Do you want me to stop? Do you remember the first time I called you love?”

 

“No and yes.”

 

“You do?” Emily is surprised by that. It was a kindness and a familiarity you didn’t expect. It took you by surprise then, but you were focused on more body related things. You wouldn’t have brought it up then either, too afraid to rock the boat. “When did I say it? I honestly don’t remember.”

 

“You invited me over after I pulled the muscle in my back. You told me to use my words and called me love.”

 

“Wow, so a really specific memory then.” You shrug lopsidedly. “Did it freak you out when I called you that?”

 

“I mean, no, I guess. I didn’t stop you from saying it, and we still… you know… slept together.”

 

“Did you want to stop me? Or stop us from having sex?”

 

“No. I know the difference between pushing slightly outside of my comfort zone in the name of growth and being wholly uncomfortable. I just… I don’t understand why you chose that one. It’s so… personal.”

 

“I’d say we’re pretty personal, love,” Emily says teasingly with a wink.

 

“Yeah. But not then.” Her tongue peeks out to lick her lips as she compiles the answer she wants to give. “You said you’d be honest. The real answer, Em. Not the politically correct one you’re working towards.”

 

One corner of her lip pulls into a surprised smile. “Honestly. Okay. Even then, I could see some of your history on your skin, and I could make my own deductions based on your time with the team. I wanted to give you every bit of love you didn’t have in whatever way you would let me - friendship, team, romance, whatever. It felt right and you didn’t seem to mind, so I let the pet name sink into my language. Do you like the pet name?”

 

You nod, letting her answer sift through your brain. It’s unusual. It’s not your experience, but you’re slowly recognizing that Emily and JJ aren’t like people in your past. And that’s a very good thing, even if you’re slow to let yourself warm up to it.

 

“Hey,” Emily murmurs, pulling you to a stop again on the sidewalk. “Look up.”

 

Your palms flat, you look at the tiny specks of snow landing on your gloves. They won’t stick yet, but they’re here. “It’s snowing,” you sigh contentedly.

 

“It is,” Emily beams. “You look happy.”

 

“I do?”

 

“You’re smiling, love. An honest-to-God smile.”

 

“I… umm… sorry, it’s probably silly. I guess I just missed the snow more than I thought,” you shrug self-consciously.

 

“Not silly at all. C’mon. We’ll enjoy it as we walk back to work, and tonight, we’ll go out with our hot chocolate. You can breathe in the fresh snow and the crisp air.”

 

“And you’ll kiss me in the snow?”

 

“My love, I’ll kiss you absolutely anywhere.”

 

As you stop at a traffic light, you watch the way the little snowflakes land in her dark hair. The snow with Emily… it feels kind of like a fairy tale.

[the-inkwell-variable]

author ask tag

thank you so much for the tag, @the-golden-comet! ooh this is gonna be fun!

i'm going to focus on my current wip, Why Should I Be Careful? I'm Going To Die Anyway! because it's still very much in the planning stages (despite how much I'm writing for it) and I have Thoughts

What is the main lesson of your story? Why did you choose it?

I'll be honest, I haven't really thought that far ahead. I suppose, if there is a lesson to take from WSIBC?IGTDA!, it might be that you should always chase your goals and desires, and screw what other people think. Maybe put a little more thought and planning into yours than Aura does hers, though. I mean, she almost dies due to her recklessness. Don't be like Aura.

What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding?

Well, it's a zombie book - I love zombies, in case you can't tell - so the world is an amalgamation of zombie stuff I love. The zombies are based off of the Train to Busan zombies. This is a self-insert mess, so I'm using the town and people I know in the town as location and characters. Little tropes here and there that I love in movies and books alike. It's just a big chimera of stuff that I grab from stuff I remember and shove into it. It definitely needs polish when it's done, but I'm having a blast so far, so I'm'a keep doing it :3

What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, or help the reader grow as a person?

Uhhhhhh this is a tough question. Right now, Aura is trying to make it to Roger's Grocery Mart to save her girlfriend, but most of the time, she's just trying to have a good time in the zombie apocalypse and hopefully not die. She does eventually grow into a character that (mostly) thinks things through and takes other people's situations into account, so I suppose the lesson is "the world doesn't revolve around you - be kind and helpful to others"?

As for what I'm trying to achieve... mostly, to be honest, I just want people to pick up my book and have a good time reading it. I want to write a zombie book because it's my passion and because there aren't enough zombie books out there. I guess I'm trying to inspire others? To show them that you can survive an impossible situation if you work hard and think things through?

How many chapters is your story going to have?

The only time I've written a full-length book (sorry, the only two times, forgot about Zero: ALPHA), it had about twenty-odd chapters. Z:A had...uh...thirty? That was a long time ago and I sadly no longer have that draft. This one is going to go until it's done. Hopefully more than thirty though!

Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

Original content! I have no idea where I'm going to post it. I'm torn between Draft2Digital (originally Smashwords) or Substack. Thing is, I'm really bad at marketing and keywords and all that technical stuff that goes into publicizing, so I'm really hesitant to share it at all. I'm the type of person that gets absolutely morally devastated if my own self-inflicted goals aren't met, and I'm not sure if I can handle that kind of crushing heartbreak with this one lol

So yeah. Might publish, might not. Unsure right now.

When did you start writing?

My dad set up a Windows 95 computer for me in his office, his old one, and taught me the basics of using it. I was five, about to turn six. I immediately sat down and wrote a story about unicorns. I've been writing ever since.

I didn't start writing fanfiction until I was thirteen and had just binge-watched Lord of the Rings for the first time. We don't talk about those works. They were awful.

Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers do you follow?

Write it. Oh it's cringe? Who cares? Write it. Oh, it's a rare pair? Write it. You're worried people will hate it? Fuck the haters. Write it. Writing is about having fun. Writing is about pouring your soul onto the page. Writing is about getting those ideas out of your head so they don't drive you insane. It's about reaching that one person that finds your work and loves it. Even if no one reads it - you still accomplished something. You still wrote it. And no one can take that from you.

I have so many writers in my follow list. Uhh. I have no idea how many are still active, so I'm just going to tag who I know and hope for the best lol

@idyllicocean, @keeping-writing-frosty, @bloodtiesnovel, @asher-writes, @kitswrite, @theink-stainedfolk, @karkkidoeswriting, @lavender-gloom, @orphanheirs, @aquixoticwrites, @alinacapellabooks, @marlowethelibrarian, @flock-from-the-void, @dyrewrites, @storycraftcafe, @writer-imagination, @toragay-writing, @inseasofgreen, @stephtuckerauthor, @thatndginger, @finickyfelix, @eternalwritingstudent, @drchenquill, @paeliae-occasionally, @the-golden-comet, @talesofsorrowandofruin, @watermeezer, @goldfinchwrites, @winterandwords, @badscientist, @clairelsonao3, @i-can-even-burn-salad, @leahpardo-pa-potato, @mjparkerwriting, @rowanwriting, @oliolioxenfreewrites, @emelkae, @rita-rae-siller, @rebelxwriter, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @stesierra, @francineiswriting, @sunset-a-story, @chauceryfairytales, @hollyannewrites, @jaydenswaywrites, @captain-kraken, @violets-in-her-arms-writes, @romy-thewriter, @pure-solomon, @writingmaidenwarrior, @koiwrites

go, go follow them. they're all so good and make my timeline glow.

[bigmoon-is-bigwife]

So Red Faction did manage to get their kill in this week with Coy but the factions NEED to end with in the next week or two. Or at least the killing requirement because it was a bad idea from the start and is blatantly unfair. The idea of requiring kills was never a bad idea but it was just so clearly not thought out and how they went about it was bad. I can understand creative kills in the sense that it wouldn't be that fun to have people just team up and murder some random weaker person to get it over with but I think there could have also been more communication and rules about it. Like lean into the roleplay aspect and trust that people would make it fun and not be cruel about it.

The main problem though, that hasn't been addressed for some reason, is that the Red Faction was doomed from the start by just being newer to a grindy server. Everyone they were meant to kill had weeks to get established and get far ahead and the levels differences on The Realm matter SO much. It's nearly impossible to kill someone who's higher level than you. Not to mention most of the people they chose to be on Red Faction are people who don't play a lot of minecraft and were never going to be that active. When you pair that with the fact they would have to spend hours and hours grinding to even catch up, that's going to be super intimidating and they're just going to give up and not log on. I don't blame the vast majority of them for not wanting to even touch the killing quest, that was an absurd expectation and very daunting.

If it was not for Pili the Red Faction would just die. Like full stop. They were lucky they happened to invite Pili who took up the challenge and was willing to put in the work to fight that uphill battle when no one else was. There is also credit to give to Bad who was one of the only people to immediately see that this was going to be unfair and try and help them out. The newer people they just invited seem more willing to try and help out but there is still that massive disadvantage of being new and the amount of grinding it takes to catch up. So it still falls to Pili and it's starting to bleed into out of character frustration because that is so unfair. It's to the point where I have heard people from every faction agree that it's not fair for Red Faction. I have a feeling Pili is just going to refuse to be the one to do it this week and I don't blame him. I think this is my only real complaint with the server and I love it a lot but I cannot fathom why the admins are not seeing a problem here. I'm hoping some of the other players from other factions start speaking up more about it because I think most of the active players have seen and agreed that the kill thing has too many problems.

[askthefairlynormalparentsau]

Thank you to everyone who submitted an ask!! And to those who didn’t get a chance, don’t worry- the box will be opening again once I’ve completed all the comics for ‘set one’! (Tho submissions and my PERSONAL ask box will remain open 🫶)

Why close the box at all? Mostly because if I keep adding things to the queue then we’ll NEVER get to Hazel’s arrival, and I really want to get there lol ☠️

I really hope yall will enjoy the content I have cookin up, this blog has been the most fun I’ve had with a project in recent memeory, and the collaborative aspect just makes it that much more special ;w; 💕🥺 I LOVE reading all your comments and tags, they rlly keep me invested and wanting to see what else I can do w this AU concept 💙💜

If you have a META question about the swap AU you’d like to ask me the mod, my main art blog is @winniefrezcomics and I’d be happy to Drabble about concepts that are farther off in the plot, later in the timeline, or wont be addressed directly in the ask blog plot at all- (questions about angst and spice are a-ok on that blog btw! 👍some posts just won’t be reblogged onto the wholesome page lmao)

SPEAKING OF the plot- THIS blog is the Archive of ALL my AU content, (drabbles, doodles, mini comics AND asks) but if you’d like to read just the ‘canon plot’ in ORDER, you can now do so HERE! https://www.tumblr.com/fopswapauchronological

(If a post is missing it’s from set 2 and I just drew it early shhhhh lol)

Genuinely Thank you all so sm for your overwhelming support, I wasn’t sure anyone else would like the idea of this AU, but it’s been really nice to work on just one project for a change, and I hope you all will love the wacky, wholesome content I’m working on as much as I’ve enjoyed drawing it for you 🫶💕💜💙

(Don’t yet have a NUMBER estimate on how many asks remain in set one, but I’ll definitely initiate a countdown of some kind for the ask box’s re-opening! uwu maybe the last 10 asks or so idk)

[musings-of-a-rose]

A vampire Benny and werewolf Benny! Can you make more or more stories spiraled off what you have? Those left me thirsty for more. Especially, werewolf Benny! 🔥🔥🔥❤️❤️❤️

Hunter's Moon

Pairing: Werewolf Benny x f!reader (established in Closer, linked in notes)

Word Count: 2100+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Anon, I had some vampire Benny ideas too but since you loved werewolf Benny in Closer, I decided to do a little one shot of those 2!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Benny Masterlist

Fic this one is set in: Closer

“You seem restless tonight baby, are you ok?” I place my hand on his thigh as it continues to bounce. 

“Hhmm? Oh. Yeah. I’m fine.”

I shift my head up from where I had been laying against his chest to look up at him. “You know I know when you’re lying, right?”

“That’s not a bond thing.”

“No, that’s an I know you thing. What’s up?”

He sighs and looks down at me, kissing my forehead. “Just a hunter’s moon tomorrow night. Has me all jittery.”

“What’s a hunter’s moon mean to wolves?”

He’s quiet for a few moments. “It’s uh…well we sort of change and um…look for a…mate.”

Ah. “Oh. Like on a hunt?”

He nods. “Yeah I guess. But I already have you. It’s just…hard not to feel the pull.”

I sit up and shift to face him on the couch. “What pull? What’s it feel like?”

Benny takes a deep breath, his eyes unfocused as he thinks. “You know how I always feel more compelled to shift on a full moon?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Well…it’s like that but a lot more intense. The desire to…do you really want to hear all this?”

I smile at him and take his hand, squeezing it. “It’s you. And I want to know all of you.”

“Fair enough.” He clears his throat. “Like I said it’s like a regular full moon but more intense. The desire to…chase and find a mate to…”

“Make pups with?”

Benny can’t help but chuckle. “Exactly, yeah. It doesn’t always end in pups though. Often it’s just about a bond. Finding a mate. Even if it’s for that one night. But I have you. I’ll be fine. Just gotta shake it off.”

Shake it off. When has that ever worked for werewolf things?

“Can I help?”

Benny shakes his head. “I don’t think so. But thanks, sweetheart.” He presses a soft kiss to my lips and I don’t know if it’s our bond amplifying it, but I can feel him practically vibrating off the couch. 

“I’ll be home for dinner tomorrow. Gotta stop by Bill’s to make sure that tractor of his is still working. And then I’ll just…lock myself in the basement or something.”

“You sure you don’t want to join your pack?”

Benny shakes his head. “Nah. I want to be with you.” He pushes my head gently back towards his chest as we resume watching whatever is on the tv, my brain rapidly working on a plan to help him.

—----

My heart pounds in my chest as I run through the woods, grateful for the many acres that came with my homestead when I took the vet position. I had stowed the atv a bit back, opting to go on foot the rest of the way. Any moment now, Benny should be getting home and finding my note I’ve left him on the table.

Come and get me.

I know he’ll find me and probably fairly quickly, considering our bond and his heightened senses. But that doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun. I press my back to a tree trunk, my chest rising and falling rapidly while I try to catch my breath. In the distance, I hear a howl, making my bond marks feel warm. 

He’s coming. 

I give myself a few more breaths before I shove off the tree, heading towards the top of this hill that’s slowly trying to kill me. This will be nothing for Benny, however, his large, padded paws will scale this like it’s nothing. Still, I manage to struggle to the top, my hands on my knees as I look around. The moon is bright and full, casting a faint glow around the small clearing ahead. I head through the trees and just make it into the clearing when I hear him, large and heavy paws thudding the ground up the side of the hill. Shit, that’s a lot faster than I anticipated. But then…silence. As I stand in the clearing, looking towards where I came from, I see nothing. I know he’s around, I can feel it. I can feel the tether between us. The wind stills, the night animals growing silent, making my beating heart sound extra loud. If I wasn’t bonded and completely in love with Benny, I would be terrified out of my mind right now. 

A flash of movement from the corner of my eye and I’m running in the opposite direction, pushing my way past the trees on the other side of the clearing, further into the woods. I can hear him behind me, shoving past trees, panting hard, a howl emanating from him. He’s making all of this sound so I hear him on purpose. I know because I’ve seen him move nearly silent. I see another clearing up ahead and I push myself a little harder, a stitch in my side nearly taking me out. But then I’m through the trees, running towards the other side. A sudden, soft nip at my ankle sends me flying, my hands slamming into the ground just inside the clearing. I turn as quick as I can, still on my ass, hands behind me as I crab walk backwards, my eyes scanning the trees.

When I’m a quarter of the way into the clearing, I see him. Benny’s wolf form is large and formidable, nearly 9ft tall when he’s not hunching over, the moonlight shining brightly against his golden fur. He slowly slinks into the clearing, his eyes deadset on me. His massive form somehow squeezes past the last tree when the air around him starts to shimmer and move, like too many things happening at once. Benny, in his gloriously naked human form, doesn’t miss a step, his eyes dark with lust as he stalks towards me. I’m momentarily stunned by how gorgeous he is. Then I remember I’m supposed to be running from him. I scramble up and turn, running as fast as I can for the trees. I only make it halfway across the clearing when his fingers tangle in my hair, yanking me back against him, his other hand snaking around my front as he exposes my neck to him.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” His voice is low, his breath fanning down across my exposed neck. 

I try to struggle against him, halfheartedly because fuck I am so turned on. “Trying to get away from y-you,” I’m still trying to catch my breath, but it’s difficult to focus with him pressed against my back, hard and wanting. 

“Well now, we can’t have that sweetheart.” Benny grips my dress and in one swift yank, rips it in half from my body, my bra quickly following. I try to move but his grip in my hair tightens and I go nowhere. His hand slides in the front of my panties, a low growl coming from his throat when he feels how wet I am. My panties are quickly tossed aside, joining my dress somewhere in the night. 

“Run,” he whispers in my ear, releasing his hold on me. I do as he says, running as fast as I can towards the trees again. But then I feel him behind me and I trip, putting my arms out to stop myself from slamming into the ground. But I don’t hit the ground, Benny’s arm winding around me to soften my blow. The second my knees hit the ground he’s on me, pressing his body over mine. He leans over me, engulfing me with his entire presence, nipping at my ear. 

“Mine,” he growls, sitting back up, digging his nails into my hips as he pushes himself inside me, pulling my hips back at the same time. I cry out, my fingers gripping at the grass and dirt as he fucks me from behind, fast and hard, my bond markings feeling like they’re on fire, but the kind of fire that goes straight between my legs. His grunts and skin on my skin are the only sounds echoing across the clearing.

He pushes me flat into the dirt, my hips angled just enough for him to continue fucking into me. His hands trace down my body, gripping my wrists and putting them above my head. But then he laces his fingers with mine, checking in with me and I squeeze his hand back, letting him know I’m ok. 

“Fuck!” He grunts in my ear, his teeth sinking into my shoulder as he cums, warmth filling me up as his hips sputter. He drops his forehead to my shoulder, breathing heavily for several moments. He presses a soft kiss to my shoulder before sliding out of me, pulling away from me and allowing me to breathe. 

I just stay in that position, breathing heavy. But then he touches me, a long finger sliding up me until it expertly locates my clit, gently massaging it. I moan into the ground as the fire quickly builds. When he bites my asscheek I come, gasping and panting as he works me through it. I come down, breathing heavy and manage to sit up, turning to look at him and notice him getting hard again. He looks at me looking at him and the air around him starts to shift again, his wolf form seemingly popping out of nowhere. He takes a massive step towards me, using his nose to push me on my back. He shifts my legs open with his nose, baring me to him and the night. He lowers his head and licks me gently, and it’s only after the third pass of his tongue that I remember it has healing powers. A few licks later and he’s done, the soreness I felt a moment before completely gone. The air changes and there he stands again, in all his naked beauty. He offers me a hand and pulls me up, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips before pulling back, his eyes dark and lustful again. 

“Run.”

—----

I don’t remember how many times we fucked that night, or how we got back to my house, only that I slept until late afternoon the next day. Benny, with his superhuman hearing, comes in the room with a tray of food, a tentative smile on his face. We hadn’t really exchanged words last night, letting both of our primal sides come out instead. 

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” He stands next to the bed awkwardly, like he’s unsure of himself. 

I gesture to set the tray down on the nightstand and he does. I beckon him to me and his eyes light up, immediately sliding into the blankets. He lays his head on my bare chest, his hand coming up to idly play with my nipple. Which does nothing to quell the heat between my thighs. 

“I’m great, Benny. Really. Did…how are you?”

He turns his head to look up at me, his eyes bright blue and wide. “I didn’t hurt you did I? I tried not to. I healed you after. But that moon just does things, and fuck you’re so hot, and I just couldn’t stop. It was like…”

“Like a pull you’ve never felt?” I finish for him.

He nods. “Yeah. Like I couldn’t not be inside you.”

“I felt the same way. I needed you to be with me, inside me, whatever. I just needed you to touch me.”

“It was probably the moon. It makes us all feel like putting babies in our mates. You probably felt it because of our bond.”

“Or maybe I felt it because I have a fucking hot ass husband who loves to turn me on.”

“Hhmm…” he says, his hand sliding down between my legs as they part for him, a gasp coming from me as he starts to slide his finger up and down me. “Is that so?”

“Mmhmm, y-yeah,” I whisper, my breathing getting more rapid as he swirls his finger around my clit.

“Well if that’s the case, sweetheart…” Benny removes his hand and starts to slide himself between my legs, winking at me before he disappears under the sheet. 

“Today is all about you, sweetheart.” His voice is slightly muffled by the sheet.

“Benny, you don’t have to-”

“I was talking to this pretty pussy here. Now, let me make up for all the thrusting I did last night.”

—---- 

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe

@greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @icanbeyourjedi 

@wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso 

@theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz 

@gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @booksarekindaneat @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox 

@amneris21 @gooddaykate @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed  

@ladykatakuri @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol  

@mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry 

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @heartpascalispunk 

[laukoslovergirl]

good graces

Pairing: Joey Daccord x singer!reader

Warnings: um cheesy and probably bad writing

Summary: Y/n is a famous singer with a not so secret crush on joey daccord. Based on my SMAU.

word count: 1.1K

Notes: i wanted to make this longer but that was not working for me so :(

You would be lying if you said the song hadn’t started as a joke. Your ex was a big sports fan. He followed them all, but hockey was his favorite so you had gotten pretty into the game as your relationship progressed. The main problem was his insecurity as you gained popularity, he continually brought up the argument that you were going to leave him for a sports player. Then you understood why he was worried about you leaving him for someone better because he was cheating you with some b-list actress. Jokes on him the songs he inspired skyrocketed your fame. Then your team thought you’d play into the bit of one of your biggest songs from your newest album. Good Graces the most popular line being ”Break my heart, and I swear I'm movin' on with your favorite athlete”.  While touring you ended the night in one of that city's sports jerseys. Famously you never wore a current player’s jersey, they all had your last name on the back and your favorite number.  You made it a point to only do two hockey teams though. His favorite Seattle Kraken and his least favorite The Toronto Maple Leafs. Finally having some time in your schedule while touring you found yourself at a Seattle Kraken game. Clad in Joey Daccord’s Jersey which you would be wearing at your concert tomorrow night on stage. It was your idea at a grand gesture to shoot your shot. You’d always found the man incredibly attractive, not to mention he was your ex's favorite player. You were feeling incredibly spiteful recently which had prompted the recent events in your life. Most notable today. You had spent some time with your team to get yourself not only on Kraken’s radar but Joey's as well. Tweets about his performance in a game. Arranging for you to read the starting line up to the guys in the locker room to also get some one on one time with them and invite them to your concert the next night. 

“Okay I’m not gonna lie to you guys, I'm nervous about this. Before I read the starting lineup I wanted to let you guys know you're all invited to the show tomorrow.” You blushed standing in the center of the locker room slip of paper in hand with the lineup. You had your best friend with you for moral support. “Vip access” you smiled at them as they let out a cheer. 

“Don’t be short stack, we love you already” Jaime Oleksiak said from his spot. You chuckled at the nickname, in all fairness everyone was short to the 6’7” giant. “I’ll pay someone on the other team to go after you” you joked with a smile. 

“Okay we got number 19 Jared Mcman, number 10 Matty Beniers, and number 7 Jordan Eberle. Defense number 6 Adam Larsson and number 62 Brandon Montour. Last but certainly not least number 35 Jdac." The boys clapped and cheered in between each name.  You looked up to see Grubauer nudging Joey out of his thoughts. 

“Okay now can i get some pictures with you guys?” you asked knowing both Kraken media had wanted the photos as well as your own PR team. The boys got up to meet you in the center of the room. “Wait hold on i gotta take off my jacket” you turned to your body guard and unzipped the big leather jacket you were wearing it had a bedazzled kraken logo on the back. Revealing a bedazzled Daccord jersey you were wearing like a dress. Taking pictures first as one big group then in smaller groups and one on one with some players. chit chatting with the boys and exchanging phone numbers and social media handles with a few.  Finally the goalie tandems turn, Joey and Philip wrapped their arms around your shoulders both their tall frames towering over your smaller body. As the boys thanked you and turned to go back to getting ready you stopped joey. 

“Wait this is awkward but I had another photo I wanted with you.” you asked, hand on his wrist. “Anything you want you can have” he finally said something to you having been pretty silent since you entered the room. You blushed and tried to escape the moment waving your best friend over. She was wearing a Grubauer jersey bedazzled like yours, but she also held a jersey with your last name on it for Joey to wear. You were still blushing over his words as he chuckled at the jersey presented to him. He slipped off his hoodie and slid on the new jersey. You couldn’t help but stare as he changed and your best friend snickered at you. You elbowed her in the side as Joey turned to throw his hoodie in his stall. You instructed Joey through the pose you wanted for the photo backs to the camera heads turned to display the back. You demonstrated the pose before looking at him, your eyes locking for a moment as he stared at you intensely. He was in the middle of you and y/bf/n. Then you took one facing the camera with big smiles on your faces. 

“Thanks Joey.” you smiled at him, your agent handing you your phone. “You look good in my jersey” he whispered to you, wrapping you in a hug, before turning and walking away. You momentarily forgot what you were even doing thinking about being wrapped in his arms. 

“Kick some ass out there boys, me and y/bf/n are gonna go find buoy” you hollered leaving the locker room. You heard wolf whistles and some chirps called to joey and you could only imagine what chaos you had just caused. 

– – – – –

Finally you were sitting in your seats. Getting ready for puck drop and to experience the game. You were currently on your phone making an instagram post. Some photos from the night. A simple dump of one of you in the stands, a picture of the ice and a photo of joey. With the caption “break my heart and i’m moving on with your favorite athlete 🩵🩷. As planned buoy made a cheeky comment and then found you during the game and y’all caused some chaos around the stadium. 

– – – – –

Beiners: I gave Joey your number. You’re welcome!! Super excited for the show tomorrow.

The game had just ended a 6-3 loss to Colorado. 

You hadn’t known one of the youngest members of the team would come in clutch as a wingman but he was completing tasks your pea brain had forgotten about. Before you had the chance to respond to matty and new text came in.

[florencechase]

So I came across the Mayfair Witches thing with Lestat and Felix, and like pretty much everyone on here I was bummed but then I though about it for a very long time, went through the books again and… here’s how I think they can still make it work. Just as a disclaimer though, I’ve only fully read IWTV and TVL, and am currently like 1/3 through QOTD, so if there’s anything in the books after that that disproves my theory I’m sorry! But since the Lestat/Felix arc takes place towards the end of IWTV, I thought I’d still give it a go.

So the main issue here that people bring up is that if Lestat taught Felix to “cull the herd”, he can’t be book Lestat because book Lestat admits to only killing the “evildoers”, so why would he tell Felix to be so merciless? The answer: it’s complicated.

Lestat, the book and the show version, is unfortunately (or fortunately because that’s part of what makes him so interesting) a man who often does the opposite of what he says. I took a closer look at his first moments with Gabrielle after he turns her, and we have a similar situation in which he’s teaching her how to kill. Here’s an excerpt from it:

“I found a victim as soon as we had crossed the river […] [a]nd as I lured the victim out of the tavern, as I teased him, maddened him, and then took him, I knew I was showing off for her, making it a little crueler, more playful. And when the kill came, it had an intensity to it that left me spent afterwards.” (TVL, p. 147)

When he’s teaching others how to kill, he likes to show off. Simple as that. I’m sure the victim he chose was a criminal, like most his victims, but the point is he never told Gabrielle that. To her knowledge what Lestat just did was brutally murder some random man. Two pages later we have the following passage when Gabrielle makes her first kill and it’s the guy on the horse she ends up stealing the clothes from:

“I was shaken. The innocence of her victims didn’t trouble her. She didn’t fight my moral battles. But then I didn’t fight them anymore either, so why should I judge her? Yet the ease witch which she slew the young man – gracefully breaking his neck when the little drink she took was not enough to kill him – angered me tough it had been extremely exciting to watch. She was colder than I. She was better at all of it, I thought. Magnus had said, “Show no mercy.” But had he meant us to kill when we did not have to kill?” (TVL, pp. 149-150)

Lestat obviously doesn’t feel comfortable killing innocent people, but there’s not one scene in which he either tells someone he’s having moral dilemmas with it, or tells others they shouldn’t kill innocent people. It’s his thing, and it’s his struggle, but he never shares it until he writes about it in TVL. Here’s another excerpt that highlights this:

“When [Louis] says I played with innocent strangers, befriending them and then killing them, how was he to know that I hunted almost exclusively among the gamblers, the thieves, and the killers, being more faithful to my unspoken vow to kill the evildoer than even I had hoped I would be?” (TVL, pp. 434-435)

The key phrase here is “how was he to know”, so Louis had no idea! All this time he spent with Louis, and he never told him that’s what he was doing! Which brings me back to the show, to the reunion moment where Lestat tells Louis “I don’t like to point out my virtues.”

Of course, in the context he’s talking about not telling him he saved him at the trial, but it’s a pretty general statement about himself and it’s true, so far, in the book. He only kills innocent people, never tells anyone about it. He saves Louis at the trial, never tells anyone about it. And while I’ve seen some theories about how him not telling Louis he saved him was part of some pact he made with Armand, I’m just going to take things at face value here until the show proves otherwise.

Lestat always claims he’s “evil” in the books, but he does a whole bunch of stuff to disprove that. I think part of why he doesn’t let people know his good deeds is because there’s a part of him that wants to be perceived as the “evil monster” that he sees himself as. It’s the biggest irony ever for Lestat out of all vampires to claim he’s evil when he’s never acted with malicious intent (in the books, but I would even say in the show as well but the show is more complex in that regard).

The big thing about Lestat, which would also set him apart from show!Louis is that he does his thing and lets others do their thing. He doesn’t interfere with others, doesn’t tell them how to live their lives “the correct way”. Sure, he has many heated discussions about it with Nicki, but those are not him telling Nicki he should live according to his philosophy just because he thinks it’s the correct way to view life. Nicki hates himself at that point, which just gets worse with his way of thinking, and Lestat’s trying to pull him out of that. Nicki’s worldview is actively harmful to him and at least part of the reason for his eventual demise. But that’s not really relevant here, so I’m just going to leave it at that.

Which brings me back to Felix and Lestat. Did he, at some point, go out of his shack to kill people to show Felix how to do it? Not necessarily. The show doesn’t say he did, he could’ve simply just told him how to do it, he did after all figure it out himself too. It’s pretty intuitive I suppose for a vampire, and even when Claudia does her first kill Lestat isn’t shown killing first. He waits in the car with Louis and Claudia manages just fine.

Lestat knows what’s in their nature as vampires, but he himself doesn’t follow it at all times. It’s implied in one of the excerpts above, when he says he’s “being more faithful to [his]unspoken vow to kill the evildoer than even [he] had hoped [he] would be.” He’s not holding himself to any strict rules or high standards here. He’s trying his best, and if he takes an innocent life, he probably feels uncomfortable about it (while he secretly enjoys the feeling) but he’s probably just like “oh well.”

And with Felix, it could absolutely be a situation of do as I say, not as I do. He teaches him what’s in their nature, but he himself chooses to do differently. That, to me, sounds quite a lot like book!Lestat.

Besides, another aspect I’d like to point out is the definition of the word “cull”. Since English isn’t my native language, I had to look it up to really get all the nuances it implies. Here’s what google says:

“Selective slaughter”. Now here’s where I might be wrong and please correct me if I am, but since there are parallels to Darwin in MW, couldn’t that also imply selectively killing a particular group of people? As in, weed out the evildoers, or the weakest who don’t have a chance of survival anyways (as Lestat does after Louis tries to kill him)? The latter would make sense with the Darwin parallel. What we see in MW may be skewed through Felix’ perspective. I haven’t watched MW, but these things happen all the time in IWTV. Killing mercilessly may be only his interpretation of what Lestat said.

TL;DR: Lestat understands vampiric nature well enough to teach others how to kill “like a vampire” when he himself still chooses to do differently. He also doesn’t “like to point out [his] virtues” which is why he never actually told anyone he only kills criminals.

[metalljellyphish]

Any cool headcanons of your DID butters au??

-lipgloss anon

OK YOU KNOW I was hanging on to this one to draw some ideas but it’s a rainy night and I need to talk about something, SO!

Leopold

The OG Butters we’ll say; when most people refer to “Butters” they’re talking about Leo. He’s still the sweet kid everyone knows, your sunshine on a rainy day and all that. Technically the oldest brother, but more or less gets put into the youngest category by everyone (Vic and Marji included)

The artistic one; by that I mean literal arts and crafts. He leans a lot into sewing and isn’t half bad at fashion gestures, but has the tendency to lean on androgynous to fem designs. That said, he’s really good at costuming of course.

Also the one who mostly cooks, he learns a lot of baking and barista things working with Tweek at the coffee shop, and Leo legitimately likes working there

You would think it’s Marji who has the main love for Sanrio characters but nope it’s Leo. He’s not obsessive but he’ll collect little things, especially in the stationary department. His favorite is Hello Kitty but also likes My Melody (usually for Marji) and Pompompurin (who he weirdly picked for Vic, but he didn’t seem to mind)

He’s usually the one to panic the most, constantly worrying about getting in trouble with his parents and the sole reason they still live in that house even after turning 18.

Marjorine

She began appearing around 4th-5th grade; not wholly due to the sleepover incident but it was one of the triggers. The middle sibling, but she has huge sweet big sister energy.

She’s the musical one; she loves singing in general and was the one on board for Stan’s band adventure, even learning guitar. Leo learned enough coords that he could pass when Marji was out. She’s also very much a pop girly.

Considering she has to share a body with two others that lean on the masculine side of looks, it does give her a great deal of body dysmorphia. Though she tries to not show it, the other two know it’s an issue for her, so they try to be very considerate of this fact. She doesn’t get to dress up much outside of their room (at least up until the running away incident) but she does have a few of her own outfits, wigs and makeup.

Do not let this woman cook. Somehow disaster always happened. Good thing she prefers cleaning, she tends to handle more than the other two.

She has the hardest time acting like “Butters”, mostly due to a tendency of airheadedness mixed with an inability to keep her mouth shut. She speaks her mind a lot more, being spared most of the guilt and awful rhetoric Leo had to grow up with, so her options are a lot more openminded.

Victor

He’s always been around in snippets, but never fully manifested until freshman year of high school. Jokingly referred to as the youngest despite easily being the most responsible.

The business minded one; yeah he does like to think he’s a cool wolf of Wall Street type, but honestly he’s kind of nerdy about it. Like he gets excited about numbers. He could explain how the stock market works but it really does come off like another random Butters ramble.

He is in fact the reason they have any sort of financial freedom. He helps with the books at Tweek’s pro-bono since his income comes from elsewhere, where? Stocks probably? (The Dikinbaus venture was a nest egg)

Arguable the most traumatized, as he’s usually the ones that have to respond when Leo shuts down, the pieces picker-upper essentially. This does in fact make him rather jaded, though definitely not uncaring, but he does have ‘we come first’ mentality.

It’s not that Vic doesn’t do chores, but Leo and Marji made an agreement since he’s the breadwinner that it was the least they could do.

Overall he’s good at pretending to be “Butters” but it’s obvious he’s not. He’s a lot harsher dealing with the others, often coming off brutally honest at best or a complete asshole at worst. Also the one to say the most heinous shit, which can come off as funny to most when Leo hardly swears without reason, Marji somewhat in the same boat, but she speaks with a lot less shame.

This was kind of a ramble, but there’s some of the building blocks anyway.

[tumblebagel]

can we see some of your favorite graphite works you've done?

Oh! Absolutely!

I’ll be honest, I just cracked open my sketchbook and pulled out what was the most presentable. None of this is, like, my official stuff that I did for my classes, because: While proof of skill, those works to me feel boring and hollow

Here’s the good stuff, pulp included

In order we have:

Mae Borowski! Had an idea for the longest time of making a sorta prequel series of art before Night In the Woods. Around the time of the Longest Night spin-off/minigame thing. Art got scrapped, but the college varsity jacket stayed in my brain.

Catgirl adventurer OC. Also never made it past concept. I had this whole magic system set up that I was pretty proud of. And if I’m honest, still holding on to 😅. Short version is this, Health level = magic cap. Magic level = stamina cap. Lose health and all your stats suffer.

The Spot. I just think this one’s sick

Fiona Windsor. An old D&D character. If you’re confused about the name, uhhhhhhhhhhhh… So I ended up choosing my name, like, a month ago? In spite of the fact that I’ve known I was trans for 7 years. Without knowing it, playing that character was like a beta test

Minecraft OC. Friendly shinobi, VERY sekiro inspired. Sadly the server I was playing on shut down RIGHT BEFORE WE GOT CHERRY TREES AND BAMBOO WOOD. AGH!!

Brisket :3

Fenic! The main character of a comic that I hold very dear to my heart, called Goodbye to Halos. If you haven’t read it yet, then you have one task for today.

My Sibling’s OC. We do “Art swaps” every now and then where we give eachother OCs and try to learn eachother’s styles. It’s a fascinating process because I am very cartoon brained, and they’re an art god amongst mortals.

My old PFP, :D

Art I did for one of my D&D players. Mad scientist artificer/blood hunter. His bastion hireling is a robot named Siri, and whenever we run a hireling-centered session, everybody’s phones go off, it’s great

[animangalover-writes]

Yk it really bothers me when I see people talking about eurylochus and the crew like they were the problem. It just feels like everyone is just missing the point. Yes they stopped listening to ody, yes eurylochus opened the wind bag, but that's what makes them so human.

Picture this, you leave your home to fight in a war. It takes literal years for this war to be over. You've lost friends, you miss your family, you've been through hell. You're starving and your captain tells you they found food on this island.

And then the cyclops happens. More friends die, you barely escape with your life, and your captain gives his name to the creature that killed your friends.

And everything after that is a direct cause of that decision.

So you hesitate to trust him. Yes he's smart, he's capable, he always has a plan. But he would do anything to get home, and you know that. So when he comes back to the ship claiming to have a bag full of wind, and when he refuses to let anyone near, refuses to trust his own crew, you get suspicious.

Its been about a decade by this point, and your captain seems to get more and more desperate to get home. A god is after you. Odysseus is forcing himself to stay away, all to make sure nobody touches that bag.

Its human, it's realistic, it makes sense that someone would open the bag. Because odysseus stopped trusting you, and so you stop trusting him. So you open the bag.

I just find it frustrating that people look at the crew/eurylochus as bad guys because of this, as pawns for ody to get home and thats it. The point of the show is that ody has become a monster, has dealt with and left behind his humanity. We, as listeners, root for him. We give him grace because of his circumstances. Because he's the main character.

But for some reason, people don't give that same grace to the crew. They're human, their circumstances are awful too. They have no idea if they will get home, they aren't sure then can trust their captain anymore. They question things. They make mistakes. They cause the deaths of others. It's human, its that feeling you get when you think that maybe hope is lost after all, it's what this story is about. Mistakes and loss and blame.

People dislike Eurylochus because he opened the bag. But odysseus gave the cyclops his name. And polites trusted the lotus eaters. And Athena told odysseus to be cruel to a fault. Nobody here is innocent, not really. And none of them knew better either. They were working with what they had, with the terrible circumstances at hand. It's no wonder they made mistakes. It's no wonder people died.

Why are we ignoring the humanity of the crew? Why are we arguing that they, or that eurylochus, deserved it? If the story was about them, odysseus would be seen as the bad guy. But he's the main character, so the others are stupid and wrong, right? All that matters is that odysseus gets home, right? Even if it costs the lives of his crew. His crew who stopped trusting him when he stopped trusting them. His crew who he sacrificed to get home.

I think we're missing the point here. Odysseus did become a monster, and although we cheer for him getting home and Penelope and Telemachus forgive him, we have to acknowledge that he did do terrible things. Those men will never see their families again. Why are we erasing that humanity in them?

Humans do bad things for the sake of saving themselves or the ones they love. That includes Odysseus. That includes Eurylochus. That includes the crew. And that includes every other character in this musical.

[docolives]

Sliding off of her stool, Livvy made quick work of slipping into her coat, pulling her purse over her shoulder and grinning over at Aurora as they started out of the club, into the cool night of the evening. Something that she was, admittedly, pretty used to. Growing up in Maine meant that she was used to this weather, came to love the cold at least a little bit, but that initial burst of cold air would always be a rush when she stepped outside. "Not a whole lot!" she answered honestly, see-sawing her head, "I mostly just spent a lot of time with my brother and sister, and then the new year is sort of like, game planning time, you know? Come up with ideas for the program, set up a vision board," because of course she had a vision board. That was right up her alley.

"Does that mean that you have thoughts of doing home, self or financial improvement?" she asked with a laugh, looking over at Aurora. "This is a good time of year to do it. But you do have to have a certain level of ambition which… can be hard to achieve," especially if you were going to keep up with it and not just give up one week into the goal. Which, of course, Livvy had to admit happened more often than she wanted it to. Resolutions were hard work. "Fries," she said without missing a beat, grinning over at Aurora. "Mack's has some of the best loaded fry platters that you'll find in town, and they should be warm and cozy and open pretty late, it's like… two blocks ahead, think we can make it in the cold?"

Now wasn't just good, it was perfect. As unpredictable adventures went, Aurora's trek to Vibrations was a success - she didn't feel humiliated despite her earlier worries, hadn't been hazed by the fictional Merrock youth bullies she'd made up, and wasn't even scratching the surface of tipsy, let alone drunk. But, the promise of late night, probably grease smothered food was just too strong of a contender. Grabbing her purse from the back of her chair, she slipped it over her shoulder and let Livvy go ahead, following her to the exit.

Regardless of the actual temperature, the night air was bitter and cool against Aurora's skin; and she liked it. She'd grown to love summer for what it was, but winter and the cold had always been home. She watched the lights of storefronts that lit up hisotrical downtown as they passed. "So, aside from the casual injuries, was there much else you've been up to this Christmas?" she asked, "Or new years, we're almost three weeks in and I can't help but feel like I haven't actually got into the full swing of the self improvement, home improvement, financial improvement vibes of January yet." Unsurprisingly, Aurora had never been one for New Year's Resolutions. "–Fries? Pizza? Chinese food? What're you feeling? My treat, of course."