#I wanted to force a pov but I'm backtracking

[yes-asil]

Hi! I adore your Clone Conan AU. Out of curiosity, will Heiji ever learn about Conan being Shinichi's clone? Or like, the Black Organization in general? I'm also just really curious to know his role in this and how he will interact with Conan and Shinichi(since they are two different people). Keep it up!

He will, just later than in canon! For the AU I'd like for Heiji to get to know Conan, to actually gain his trust and become his friend first before figuring out anything. By the time Haibara enters the picture and confirms the clone theory for Shinichi, Heiji is still pretty oblivious. Only after solving a few cases in he's like "Alright, Kudo, you are a nervous wreck and you Kiddo, you are way smarter and way too gloomy than you have any right to be, what is going on."

I don't want him to just go "Oh, you're Shinichi 2.0, of course I like ya then" as soon as they spill the beans, but actually have him argue the point. A corny "you are your own person" speech is always so fun!

[lucasandlily]

Rui x Reader who is really affectionate, but can't touch him because of The Curse.

A/N: I'm alive!! Rui my beautiful beautiful tragic boy. I've actually been having a lot of brainrot for this game, particularly an isekai AU that made me contemplate making RP blog (I love you guys btw. This is probably my first fandom where they're so active, I've been really well connected with this fandom somehow and it's so fun!!), so I figured I might as well be writing it down now. This is an idea I've had spinning in my head for a while, so it's VERY self-indulgent/insert, but enjoy!! AO3 link here

Rui's POV. Second-person pronoun "You" is used. Angst! But also fluff!! (825 words)

You’ve always been an affectionate little thing. It’s something Rui finds adorable about you, staying optimistic despite all that looms over you, not letting any of the ghouls he KNOWS can be more than a little much sometimes destroy your positive attitude. It’s as if you decided to be the light in a place that literally has dark in its name, and he lov admires you for that.

He can’t help but feel the bitter green of envy though, when he watches you ruffle Lyca’s hair after he whines at you for treating him like a dog. 

He pointedly turns away from the look Ed gives him over your head when you relax into his chest after he leans over your shoulder.  

He just laughs along at your drunken antics when you nuzzle into Haru’s hand, somehow even more touchy when your cheeks are flushed with alcohol. 

He tries not to remember the flash of hurt, confusion, the first time he’d backed away from your hand when all you wanted to do was give him a pat for a job well done. He doesn’t know if it hurt more when your face morphed into regretful understanding, or when you apologised and told him you’d try not to do it again. 

Rui tells himself it’s for the better when he notices you’ve been avoiding him for the past week. He’d have done the same to you anyway, if he realised his feelings were starting to fester. He tries to not let it get to him when he hears you enter the Obscuary mansion, only to quickly patter up the stairs without stopping by the bar first, as you would have done previously. 

Maybe before, he would have made it a little competition to see who could mess up the other’s hair more. He’d watched you run your fingers through Lyca’s after you’d tousled it out of place, anyway. Maybe in another life, you’d gently hold his face as you showered him with kisses. He’d do the same to you anyway, if he wasn’t forced to keep his hands to himself. 

If he didn’t notice you hold your hand back every time you saw his mask slip. If he didn’t see your hand stop short before pulling it back to tell him he had a bit of hair out of place. 

It’s all just part of the cursed life, he tells himself. He should be getting used to it by now, he sighs as he walks down the hall over to his room. 

Behind him, he hears the jingle of the bell you like to wear on your keychain. He turns at the sound of your quick steps approaching. 

“Rui! Ruiruiruiii!!” You call.

“Ah, there you are! Haha, I’m not going anywhere you know~ though I guess I don’t mind being chased?” He teases as you approach. 

You smile up at him brightly, “I have something to show you!” You tell him, he notices now that you have a hand behind your back. 

“Hm? Aw, did you get me a gift? And here I was thinking you were hiding from me!” He regrets the words the moment they leave his mouth. Your smile falters a bit as you blink at his confession. 

But before he can backtrack with a “Just kidding!” your smile lightens again, eyes filling with some sort of resolve as you pull out… a glove on a stick? in your other hand.

He doesn’t pull away when he feels the simulation of a hand on his head. He can’t, when you look into his eyes with such unmistakable fondness. The awkward, stilted movements as you try to run the imitation hand through his hair communicates how long you’ve wanted to do this, and the tears that well up in his eyes betray how much he’s needed it. 

He feels the cloth soak up the tears when you move the glove down to hold his face. It feels soft under his skin, and he can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. 

“How long did it take you to make this?” He asks as you let him lace his fingers with your hand extension. He squeezes the plush hand, feeling the soft give before it reaches the stick inside, inspecting where the glove and stick are attached. 

“Um! A week? It took a bit of experimenting to get it to stay on… And they don’t really sell gloves on campus either.” 

Your eyes crinkle when you look at him, the corners of your lips pull up triumphantly when he lets go of the hand to let you pat his head again. 

“You deserve at least this much,” you tell him. “I know it’s not really the same or anything, but I don’t wanna leave you out, y’know?” 

“It was worth it though, if it made you happy.” You look into his eyes as you say this, and he can’t help but believe you.

Reblogs and Comments are appreciated! I love you (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。

[whumpshaped]

Something specific I‘d love to see from the perspective of your writing is a ex-heavily conditioned whumpee‘s pov of being caretaked when their are too delirious to realize their it’s not their master it’s their friend (caretaker)

tw sickfic, past trauma, past implied noncon, delirium, whumpee offering themself up, conditioned whumpee

"N-no, no, please, not tonight... n-not tonight... I won't be able to..." Whumpee trailed off, flinching when Master's hand brushed against their forehead.

"Won't be able to do what, sweetheart?" they asked softly, the pet name soothing their nerves a little.

"Please you," they muttered. "I don't think... I don't think I c-can–"

"Whumpee, what are you saying?"

Oh. Master was angry. Even in their half-conscious state, they scrambled to backtrack and correct themself. "N-nothing, nothing, you're right! You're right, I can take it, I can do– do whatever you want, and... and I'm nice and warm, at least–"

"Whumpee." Master cupped their cheeks, and Whumpee's eyes fluttered closed as they waited for either a hit of a forceful kiss. "Whumpee, darling, are you with me? Do you know who I am?"

Do you know who I am?

"Master, my master, my owner, my saviour, my god," they recited the words obediently without any thought, as they had done so many times before. "And as your lowly p-pet, I take anything you give me with endless... endless gratitude..."

"Oh, dear. You're so much sicker than I realised..."

"I'm sorry, Master. I'll do my best for you. I'm sorry I tried to get out of it."

Instead of more scolding, Master pulled back and away from them. They opened their eyes just in time to see them wipe away a tear, and their heart sank. What had they done? Had they done something wrong? Had they upset Master?

They tried to get up so they could grovel properly, but Master pushed them back down onto the bed. It didn't take much effort, really; they had already been weaker than them before the sickness, and doubly so now. Not to mention the way they'd been trained to go limp whenever Master wanted to manhandle them.

"You need to rest, sweetheart. Okay? That's all I ask of you."

Whumpee blinked, then nodded. How gracious. How merciful. Even though they'd been a horrible pet, already resisting and arguing before Master had even told them their intentions, they still found it in themself to forgive and let them sleep. "Thank you," they murmured. "Thank you, Master."

~

general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @whumpkinpie @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @whump-em @cyborg0109 @morning-star-whump @justanotherlokifan @2in1whump @lthrboy @justletmereadmywhump @florissimps @anonymous-tiangou @whump-kitty

[thesmutalorian]

Yeah  they made the feral predator way too hot. The credits came on and I immediately went to Ao3 like “let’s see what the girlies have to say about thissssss” 🤭 I saw the original predator almost a decade ago and as much as I liked it, never would of guessed I’d be here now 🙂

 the ooman shit kills me, like why do they have these scary ass aliens saying such silly shit I’m gonna die. 

Turns ouuuuut, I actually have more to sayyyyy, but you don’t have to respond: I feel bad bc I don’t have an Ao3 account so I can never comment, but Gorl if I did, id have a whole essay for every chapter, including reaction images 😤. Ik you aren’t currently writing from Ta'Kesh’s POV (which is perfectly fine lol), but I really appreciated how you did so. The predator POV is so fun to read, they’re just so damn cold and pragmatic and just ALIEN yk? (Ta’kesh makes me laugh bc he’s such a lil psycho lol). At least when done right I think. The dynamic you have set up is really interesting, like I love a good slow burn enemies to friends to lovers, but the cultural differences and species hierarchy sets it up for some really fascinating (JUICY) interactions/character development. I was unfortunate enough to come upon your story very early, there aren’t many other fics that hold up to the standard you set! (Have you read The Devil You Know? One of the only other quality fics I’ve found that seems to accurately portray that sort of dynamic- 10/10 recommend). 

But anyway, the arrogance, the entitlement, just the cold bluntness makes predator fic so engaging to me. When you take a person with that deeply ingrained of a mindset (that’s another aspect I love, the question of whether or not yautjas are innately “predatory” or if it’s largely due to cultural upbringing) and force them to interact with with someone they deem inferior in a way they never have had to before (and there was only ONE BED heheh) I’m eating that shit up with 2 hands like GOOD SOUP!!😤😤😤

 I appreciate it even more with a quality OC and I like Charlie a lot. I really struggle with reader/you fics bc beyond me just being like “lol I would not do that”, I like having an established character to root for :). She has an interesting past that you’ve managed to portray in an appealing and unostentatious way. Reminds me of Rust cohle from True Detective.  I like that she’s very brave, but not to the point of ridiculousness lol. She has her moments where she’s able to act courageously in order to try to survive, but still gets intimidated/scared (extremely valid) sometimes with the big ass scary aliens. Do you have anyone in mind for how she looks?

Some highlights so far:

Greatly enjoyed ta’kesh’s cringe fail lake venture where Charlie showed his ass up while he fucking stands in the background looking like a drowned ass rat ahahah but watching her Commit Violence like 👀

Idk why but aliens using bidets is so fucking funny to me

Kinda living for ta’kesh being a dork and talking to his cat all the time hehe

let me see what the girlies have to sayyyyy 👏🏼 absolutely the correct response. my friend and I stand by that alien v predator could've been entirely more romantic if they were brave enough but 🤪 no cause literallyyyyy when I read ooman I hear it in a baby voice and I canNOT take it seriously, like bless those authors truly but whoever started the ooman precedent.... I just wanna talk 🧍🏻‍♀️ and girly pop ofc I'm gonna respond you took the time to let me know how you feel and I /love/ interaction okay (I think there's a way to comment anon on ao3 with like a guest account or name or something but maybe I'm wrong idk) but either way you take the time I want to show my appreciation

I stopped his POV just cause I felt like I was backtracking and I'm already so slow (rip sorry) but I really do want to come back to it in the future just to have fun revealing his inner workings (cause sometimes I be writing things and giggling like pookie is such a brat and then I remember y'all can't hear the goofy ass voices in my head and you only know the story I show you) but yes yes their differences are gonna play out in so many ways that I just can't wait for 😇 AND YES IVE READ FRIGGY one of the few I made it all the way through and then had to literally have a whole moment to process that there wasn't a second part 😗😗 sick I tell you, sick,, but I completely understand the not being able to read FPOV or self insert because of the "ummm I would never" --- because that's EXACTLY how I started writing 💀😭 I was chatting w my friend and we were like ok but isn't it kinda weird how fast some of these fmc just like... accept the whole ass murder crab men? also--- how do they survive well in space and from there Charlie was born ahahahHA I was like ok but what if I made it realistic for bits (as realistic as scifi can be) and then asked people to suspend their disbelief for the fun bits like the space pond and the tail n shit 🤭🤭

I have a whole board of art for ta'kesh but I've never really stopped to think about Charlie 🧐🧐

YES DROWNED RAT IS SOOOOO RIGHT mans really does have an ego, which, like rightfully earned? but also... must be checked whenever author feels he needs it (all the time 😇)

the bidet was me being like what is something that isn't necessarily commonplace, but feels bougie enough that an advanced society would have it regularly around.... ah yes.... Bidet.

ta'kesh is a cat girl, confirmed

I promise to bring you more good soup in the future 🍲

[bluejaysandblackbats]

If There’s Nothing Missing In My Life…

Fandom: DC Comics, Superfam

Summary: Newly-emancipated popstar and child actor, Conner (screen name: Lucky) navigates high school and stardom on his own.

Chapters: 8/?

Characters: Conner Kent, Lois Lane, Roxy Leech, Rex Leech, Lois Lane, Clark Kent, Hillary Chang

Additional Tags: Highschool AU, Celebrity AU, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Exploitation, References to Depression, Conner Kent Needs a Hug, Conner Luthor, Lex Luthor is Conner’s Parent, Childhood Trauma, Self-Confidence Issues, Teen Angst, Angst, POV First Person, No Powers AU, Conner Kent-centric, Bisexual Conner Kent, POV Conner Kent, Protective Lex Luthor, Child Celebrity AU

Chapter Eight: Lucas

On Monday, I returned to school. I sat at lunch with Hillary and her friends, as usual. I lay in the grass eating grapes and staring at the clouds while Hillary took pictures of the street vendors with her camera. She lay on her stomach beside me, propped up on her elbows. I was startled when she decided to lean over me out of nowhere. "Hey, Lucky?" Hillary asked. My eyes widened as her hair hung near my face, tickling my chin and forehead.

"Whoa," I whispered. Hillary smiled and gave me a playful shove.

"Shut up," Hillary laughed, "What's Lucky short for? Lionel? Lucien? Lucas?"

"Nothing. It's not my name," I answered casually, "It's a stage name."

Hillary sat up and grabbed my wrist. "So everyone calls you Lucky, and it has nothing to do with your name? Do you even like being called Lucky?" Hillary asked.

I blinked hard. "Only my dad uses my real name... I'm so used to hearing people call me Lucky that it feels like my name sometimes," I replied. One of Hillary's friends returned to the grass, and I returned to my handful of grapes.

"Hey, Lucky, you want some?" her male friend asked. He'd bought a bucket of wings from a nearby restaurant. I nodded and lifted my bag of grapes to offer him a few. I think lunch was the only time of day when I felt normal. Hillary's friends were cool like her. And I think she was starting to like me.

"Hey, Lucky, are you joining any after-school clubs?" Hillary asked.

"I'm still waiting to see the creative dance club," I replied. Hillary grinned.

"I'll text you the info... And speaking of that, I'll be in the quad at lunchtime tomorrow instead of here," Hillary replied as she pulled her phone out of her bag. I got a phone call from Rex and stepped away.

"Yeah," I answered.

"You need to get in the studio and start workshopping songs for the album soon," Rex commanded.

"Uh-huh, yeah," I replied, "Send me the address. I'll go after I do my after-school stuff." I didn't feel like talking to him. Not after how he spoke to me.

"What's your problem?" Rex questioned. I scoffed and hung up in his face. Rex had a lot of nerve asking me what my problem was. I jumped when I felt a hand on my arm.

"Are you alright?" Hillary asked. I blinked hard at her. "You always seem stressed after you answer phone calls."

I wished she wouldn't have mentioned it. "Yeah, well... I guess that means he's doing his job," I mumbled. When I caught my tone, I backtracked. "I didn't mean that. Hillary, I'm a little jet-lagged. I didn't think before I spoke... What I said was terrible."

It wasn't terrible. I meant every word, and I wished I could've said more... But I couldn't dare show any sign of thanklessness. I pushed my feelings deep down inside, swallowing my pride to push on. I forced a smile and rushed back to campus. I wanted to be alone for a few minutes.

I had a few minutes before class to get over myself. Ms. Ito let me in early, and I sat with my head down for a while. "Feeling sick?" Ms. Ito questioned. I shook my head. "You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm okay... How are you?" I asked.

"I'm alright," Ms. Ito replied. That was the last real conversation I had all day. When I got to my apartment after club sign-ups, I remembered I had to go to the studio.

I put my happy face back on and got a ride to the studio. I carried my notebook in and was immediately met with lawyers and adults with clipboards and laptops. "What's all this?" I questioned.

"Your father signed the contracts when you were under his care, but that's all up for renegotiation now that you're emancipated," Mr. Wagner explained, "Rex didn't tell you?"

Of course, Rex didn't tell me. He left me to the wolves again, and I had no one in my corner. They pushed me to sign right away, but Dad taught me better. Music was a tricky business, and Dad taught me specific phrases to look out for on a contract. "I wanna take this home and read it first. Give me until Friday?" I asked.

"Come on, Luck. You know us—."

I grinned and tapped the stack of paperwork on the table. "I know you, but I don't know this contract," I half-joked, "Friday? And I'll call you if anything comes up." I had more leverage as a musician than I did as an actor. I could say no and negotiate. And if they were stubborn, I could walk.

"Alright. Friday, Luck. So, I guess we're done here for the day," Mr. Wagner sighed. I nodded and stuffed the contract in my backpack along with my notebook.

I walked half the way to my apartment, running into Hillary on my way to dinner. "Lucky!" she exclaimed. I waved. "Are you busy?"

I jogged across the street to meet her. "Nope, plans got canceled. I wanted to grab something for dinner," I replied. She playfully bumped into me as we walked.

"Have dinner at my place tonight. Maybe it'll cheer you up," Hillary offered. I smirked.

"Why? Do I look sad or something?" I questioned. "And sure, I'd love to."

"Heads up, I live with my brothers. It's just us three," Hillary warned me, "And we're gonna have spaghetti and meatballs."

I followed behind. "Hey, Hillary… Thanks for inviting me to dinner," I replied sincerely. Hillary looked me in the eye and grinned.

"No problem, Lucky. I'm right here," Hillary replied as she entered the house. "I brought a friend with me!"

"Do they like spaghetti because we don't have anything else today?" a deep voice asked.

"Lucky, do you like spaghetti?" Hillary asked. I nodded. "He likes spaghetti!"

Two men cheered playfully. Hillary removed her shoes and set her bag by the door, and I copied her. "Got fired from the stupid pasta place, so I took a shitton of breadsticks!" one of her brothers shouted.

One of her brothers came out and set the table, walking straight past us before backtracking. "Hey, you look like that kid from Letters To Hope," he chuckled.

"That was my first movie," I replied.

He squinted at me. "Lucky Luthor?" he questioned.

"Yup," I nodded.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Joey," he introduced himself. I shook his hand.

Her other brother brought dinner out. "Joey, go get the legally procured breadsticks, please," her other brother ordered, "Sorry, I'm Jake. When she brought a friend, I thought she meant Robert."

"Oh no... I'm Lucky," I replied as I reached to shake his hand.

Jake looked at Hillary and then at me. "No kiddin'..." Jake grinned.

[mossy-rock-in-a-field]

What do you do when you're stuck on the story. Like you have somewhat of a plot thought out but have no way of getting there? I'm struggling to write this next bit and I can't think of to get it out if that makes sense?

Well, nine times out of ten if I’m struggling to write something, it means there’s something fundamentally wrong with the way I’ve structured the scene up until that point. Doesn’t mean that’s the case for you, but this is my personal stance on this, at least. Let me see if I can articulate this a little more clearly.

I try to think of a scene as a series of subway tunnels beneath a city—you know where you want to go and how quickly you need to get there, but the way you get there can vary wildly, depending on how you’ve set things up. If you’ve ever lived in a city, you know not all subway stations are created equal. Some stations are clean and bright with nice advertisements on the walls with little kiosks ‘n shit all around, but others are grimy and way too small to support regular foot traffic. Hell, some subway tracks can even be smoother than others, depending on how often they’re maintained or updated, and in these cases a bus or an Uber might be a better way to swing things. Regardless, if one route of your journey isn’t getting you where you need to go, backtrack to your starting point and try a different way.

As a writer, you need to be aware of the things in your scene that might be tripping you up or giving the whole situation a weird vibe. Sometimes it’s a massive description that doesn’t need to be there, throwing off the tone of the scene. Other times it’s a bad transition or the wrong character POV altogether, if that’s the way your narrative is set up. (Big changes like POV can be a hassle to correct, but I’ve found that the effort of switching things up or starting over entirely is usually worth it in the long run.) Other stumbling blocks can come in the form of a throwaway piece of dialogue that leads to a conversation that doesn’t belong in this chapter, an off-putting descriptor of body language, or even a small display of characterization that doesn’t fit the way you’ve been portraying that person up until that point. You’ve got to be aware of what you’ve already included in your scene before you can decide how to proceed, and if one of these things feels off, delete or change it and try again. 

Ultimately, every scene needs to have a pulse, and you, as the author, need to keep your finger on it at all times. A pulse is basically the driving force of the scene that keeps your narrative breathing beneath your characters’ actions or thoughts—losing that pulse make a story muddy, messy, and hard to write as a result. I’m a victim of this myself, as are all writers, I think. What separates the sheep from the lions, however, is a writer’s ability to recognize the presence of superfluous details/scenes/thoughts and eliminate them accordingly. Don’t be sentimental! I’ve got a running document of lines/metaphors/whole scenes I’ve had to delete in order to maintain the consistency and clarity of my stories, and that’s perfectly okay. Sometimes I use those little tidbits in other places; sometimes I don’t use them at all. I recommend you keep one of those handy if harsh editing is what needs to happen in order to make your story flow. 

Bottom line: look at what you’ve written already. If you can delete parts of your story and the narrative doesn’t change, delete those parts. Be concise and clear, not complicated. Look at your writing objectively from a distance or have someone else read over it to see if something small if tripping you up and making the scene difficult to create. 

I don’t know if any of this answer will help you out, but this is what works for me! I hope you figure out what’s giving you trouble. 💙