#I wrote this in part so it might be a rambly mess.

[circuscountdowns]

Hi! Wanted to start off by saying that I LOVE your cotl art its such a huge inspiration to me :D! I recently picked up drawing again and I've unfortunately been upset? envious?! of others' skills and just wanted to ask if you ever experienced this as a fellow artist and if so how do you not do that lol. Sorry for the weird question. I just thought some insight and advice from a fellow artist could helo. BUT I hope you still have a nice day and look forward to any more cotl art or anything you draw really :D!!! (also is okay if you don't answer it is a loaded question I just be in a silly goofy mood lately okay bye!)

oh wow being on the receiving end of a question like this is surreal, I’m honored my work inspires you! Thank u, you’re sweet, it’s not a loaded question at all! Here’s my long reply sorry

so unfortunately that comparing yourself to others thing doesn’t go away ever asdfgjkl. I suffer it every day, it sucks, feels bad. I’ve had industry people tell me they feel this way and they’ll have some of the most gorgeous visdev/boards/animation I’ve ever seen. Disheartening to hear, But! I’m a big believer that comparing your artworks with others is best used as a tool and not a punishment to yourself!

When looking at art you like, try to turn thoughts of, “Man I wish my stuff looked like that, my shit sucks,” to, “What is it that I like about this piece? The line art? The perspective?” Sometimes I’ll see work with thin line art and I’ll get an itch, and I’ll draw something with thin line art. It’s a conscious effort of keepin emotion out of that itch, keeping it as, “I saw art with thin lines, I want to do that. Yay I did that!” Compartmentalize it, the itch was simply to do thin line work, not to remake the piece you were inspired by. And you got a piece of art out of it, and a single piece is progress no matter how small!

If you want to compare, do it methodically! Why does my work look different (never use the words better or worse)! Oh, I see my piece doesn’t follow the rule of thirds, so the framing is different, I’ll be aware of that next time if it bothers me. Or, Oh I see they shade by hatching along with the form, I’ve just been going horizontally, I’ll try that other way!

it’s a learning curve of training yourself, like all corrective behavior.

like, I kinda have the warning feeling of dread when I’m about to compare my work with something, so before the self-deprecating thought can even start I have to think What do I Like about this?

I’m no expert at it, though. Actually getting myself to think this way is a struggle, but I find when I make Thoughtful Observations I level up. Not by a lot most times, but yknow.

and this part is just my personal experience:

Fanart and the internet can be the biggest Art skill killer sometimes. Get offline and cater to the audience that Really matters to your passion: You! I improved the most by spending 2-3 years doing doodles/comics/models for my dnd campaign ocs because I was that obsessed and I simply wanted to have it for me!

and after all that, then there’s the hardest skill of just accepting your work as is.

like, to me, my work is just scribbles. I see other artists’ stuff and go “Man they’re so good at comics and colors, man, why can’t I color?” But do I need to??? I don’t like coloring, do I need to be good at it? This isn’t a career, this is supposed to be fun! I scribble because I like it! I’m glad this persons good at coloring, I don’t need to be! Yay!

if I Want to be good at it, I’ll take the steps to get there! But if not, my scribbles are just fine :) I love black and white and values

I’ve been having that one on repeat for a while. It helps

(acceptance and denial go hand in hand btw lol they sound the same)

I wish there was a little off button for envy, but ah well! I hope that you take comfort in knowing we are all feeling it, and find joy in even the smallest little doodle you make! Have fun stay goofy!

[etherealyoungk]

<3

love. | jeon wonwoo

SYNOPSIS. in which wonwoo shows you love in it's simplistic forms - through the five love languages. PAIRING. jeon wonwoo x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, comfort, established relationship WARNINGS. kissing alot of kissing, mild cursing, brief wonu shirtless shower moment, they shower together, some suggestive innuendos, reader wears a dress + jewelry, some creepo harasses reader, last scene is suggestive + contains allusions to sex, i'm rlly just torturing all the wonwoorideuls out there (me included) WORD COUNT. 8.1k

notes: what are all of u guys love language(s) ?!?! mine is quality time and words <3. i also truly believe wonu is peak quality time, acts of services, and words ughhhdsfjkhdd. tbh all sections of these feature pretty much all the love languages lol its hard to emphasize just one specifically

i. in the moments where my hands speak what my heart can't say

A snowflake lands on your tongue.

You pull your coat tighter around yourself, shivering slightly as you walk your way back from a meet up with some friends. Wonwoo had texted you earlier, asking if you needed anything before he would come over to your place for the first time, and you had told him that he didn't have to come because really... your place wasn't exactly the tidiness right now.

Nothing but the colour white blankets the ground, snow crunching under your shoes with each step. Your gaze drifts up as snowflakes drift lazily down to the earth. The city feels almost otherworldly like this𑁋so quiet and still, as if time has slowed to let the snow settle into its new home.

You watch the delicate flakes as they hover down, dissolving into the endless sea of white. Despite the chill slithering up your bones, there's a sense of calm that washes over you.

You're so caught up in the scene that you don't hear the faint sound of footsteps approaching from behind. Then you feel something drape over your shoulders. A scarf.

Startled, you glance down, your hands instinctively reaching up to touch the fluffy fabric. You blink and turn around to find Wonwoo standing there, his cheeks flushed from the cold, his breath forming visible puffs in the air.

"Wonwoo? I..." You catch the way the strands of his hair is littered with speckles of white. "I thought you weren't coming."

Wonwoo just shrugs nonchalantly. "I changed my mind. Couldn't let you walk home alone in this weather."

Your heart warms at his words, and you feel the corners of your lips tug upward in an easy smile.

"Thank you," You murmur, adjusting the scarf snugly around your neck. It smells faintly of him. "But you really didn't have to𑁋"

"Shh," he interrupts, taking your gloved hand in his and stuffing your intertwined fingers inside the pocket of his coat. I'm glad that I came. You deserve to feel safe. "Of course I did."

Wonwoo offers you a reassuring squeeze of your hand in his pocket. The biting chill of the air is no match for the comfort of his presence, and with each step that you take together, you feel more at ease. The snow crunches harmoniously beneath your feet as the two of you walk upon the journey towards your apartment building.

The glow from the lamps on your building reflect warmly off the blanket of snow. The two of you have only been dating just over a month, and each step feels lighter with him beside you. Conversation flows through the cold air easily, wrapping around you like the scarf he gave you.

Then you pause and turn towards him. "Are you sure you want to come in? I mean, my place is kind of a mess right now."

What's a little mess compared to being with you? "It's okay. I don't mind," he reassures, though his voice comes out a bit shy𑁋not from any unsureness, but just from knowing he's about step foot into your world. There's no way he's backing away from this now.

Uncertainty crosses over your features, but the warmth in his eyes hugs your hesitation about inviting him in. He follows right behind you, and as you step into your place, a sense of relief washes over you. You kick off your shoes and gesture for him to make himself comfortable on the couch.

"Make yourself at home," You tell him, ignoring the slight embarrassment nipping at your cheek from the slightly disheveled state of your living room. There's books and papers scattered on the coffee table, a couple of coats draped lousily over the back of a chair as if you were indecisive about which one to wear, a pile of empty packages in the corner that you haven't had the time to dispose of yet, and a crookedly placed small painting on the wall.

Home. I like that word. Wonwoo settles himself on top of the couch and leans back on the cushion, taking in the cozy, albeit chaotic, atmosphere of your place. This is you𑁋perfectly imperfect.

You disappear into the kitchen, and he can hear the faint sounds of you moving about. "Hot chocolate or tea?"

Wonwoo doesn't answer right away, instead shedding off his coat before letting his feet trail over to where you were in the kitchen. He peeks around the corner, catching a glimpse of you as you rummage through cabinets, and he can't help but smile.

You look so determined. I like that about you.

"I believe that hot chocolate is calling our names right now," Wonwoo inputs cheesily, sliding his way over to where you are, already fishing through your cupboards to find some mugs.

You look up, surprised but amused. "Pardon me, sir, but I believe that this is my place."

"Well, you were taking too long," he shoots back playfully, a light laugh escaping his lips. I want to do this for you.

After scrouging through a few cupboards, he grabs two mismatched ceramic mugs and sets them on the counter. Next to him, you're already heating up the saucepan, but Wonwoo seems to have already beaten you in grabbing the milk jug from the fridge.

As Wonwoo adjusts the flame of the stove to a calmer setting, you add in the cocoa powder and some sugar. Then you reach inside a drawer for a whisk and start stirring the mixture, the rich aroma of chocolate filling the air. Wonwoo watches you, leaning casually against the counter, a content smile on his face, but that doesn't seem to be enough for him.

He comes up to you from behind, placing a gentle hand on your waist as he leans in closer, his breath fanning against your skin and causing you freeze up for a moment.

"Hello," he mutters, voice soft to your ear, lips awfully close to your neck. I want to be part of this moment, too. "Need any help?"

Even if you do answer no, he's already reaching his other arm around you anyway. His fingers brush against yours, cupping over your hand that's whisking away as he begins to help you stir. His body is pressed up behind yours, and it's making everything ridiculously hard to concentrate on.

"Wonwoo, I really can handle this," You protest lightly, though the way he leans into you sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"I know," he replies, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. But I want to be close to you like this.

The mixture starts to bubble slightly, and you can't help but glance back at him, your cheeks flushing under his warm gaze. "I appreciate it, but𑁋"

I think I can get used to doing these things for you. "It's no problem," is all he says. "I just like being here with you."

The chocolate begins to froth, sending a rich, inviting aroma right to your nostrils and throughout the kitchen. Wonwoo leans closer, his chin resting on your shoulder as he continues to whisk the mixture. This is nice. Just being here with you, doing something simple...

Once the hot chocolate is done, Wonwoo helps you pour it into the mugs, the steam curling up into the air like little wisps of happiness. The heat of the mug seeps into your palms, and you can't help but notice how natural this feels𑁋how effortlessly he fits into your world.

Suddenly, your face brightens, and you step away for a second to retrieve a bag of marshmallows from the pantry, holding the bag up triumphantly with a grin.

Wonwoo nearly melts into the floor just from that.

"Want some?" he asks after dropping a few marshmallows in his own mug. You should take it easy, too. Enjoy the little things, right?

You nod eagerly, watching as he plops some marshmallows in your mug. Just a tiny bit more than how much he put in his. Then he grabs both of your mugs, bringing you to follow him into your living room. Although it was still a little messy, the nerves in your system have definitely lessened𑁋it doesn't stop Wonwoo from noticing that slight glint of anxiety to your eyes.

Look at you, all worried about your place, and here I am, falling for you a little more every second.

He watches endearingly as you quietly blow on the hot chocolate to cool it down, and he copies your actions. Then he takes a careful sip, the sweet, comforting drink warming him from the inside out. He glances at you, watching as you sip your own drink. When you features beam up at him, he can't help but smile back.

Your smile is quite dangerous.

The dim light from the lamp casts a cozy glow around the room, and for a moment, everything feels perfect. Both of you find yourselves enjoying your drinks, settling into easy conversations about nonsense, all while the snow continues to fall outside.

As the laughter fades and the mugs empty out, Wonwoo leans back against the couch, stealing glances at you, and he can't help but feel his heart swell. You are so full of life, and he wishes he could bottle this moment forever, like a pressed flower preserved within the pages of a book.

What did I do to deserve you?

"What are you thinking about?"

Your voice jolts him out of his thoughts as you set your empty mug down on the coffee table, eyebrows raised in curiosity. Wonwoo clears his throat.

"Honestly?" he starts, leaning in a little. There's a bit of shyness in the way he purses his lip together, yet a hint of boldness as his eyes flickers momentarily to your mouth. "I'm thinking about how I'm just three seconds away from kissing you."

Can I show you what my heart wants to say?

In your chest, you heart leaps, flips, and swells with anticipation that it almost aches. Heat floods your cheeks and every crevice of your body as he holds your nervous expression.

"Is that okay?" His voice is barely above a whisper, like he's sharing a secret just for you to hear.

All you can do is nod.

"Yeah," You answer sheepishly at first. "It's more than okay."

The smile that breaks across his face is like a sunrise you could watch every morning. And it isn't long before his lips tentatively brush against yours.

This, he thinks, smiling against your lips, is home.

ii. even the silence is like a love song

Sometimes you think that your boyfriend spends more time at your place than his own.

Not that you're complaining at all. You've already entrusted a spare key to your apartment with him, and he's also told you the code to his own place too. However, sometimes on days that you plan on visiting him, he's already texting you that he's on his way to your place. You'll find him there, either casually perched on your couch, or in your kitchen brewing a fresh pot of coffee as if he's lived there for years instead of just a few months.

It's become a small, ordinary routine, but it's quickly grown into one of your favourite things about being with him𑁋how naturally he's slipped into your boring, mundane life, as if he's always belonged.

Just like now, when you arrive to find him folding some laundry in your living room. It's a mixture of your clothes and his, all mingled together as if they've always been part of the same household. Wonwoo is sitting on the floor, focused on neatly folding a hoodie you recognise as one of yours, placing them neatly next to a stack of button-ups that belonged to him, his brows slightly furrowed in concentration. The sight makes you pause in the doorway, a mellow smile tugging at your lips.

"Hey," You call out, dropping your keys onto the table by the door.

Wonwoo lifts his head up and catches sight of you.

"Hello." He stands up, already meeting you halfway. "You're home."

His words makes the corners of your lips lift even higher. Home.

"I didn't know how I hired a housekeeper," You remark as you toss your bag on the couch, before letting yourself fall into his own open arms. He wraps them around you without hesitation, pulling you close in a loving embrace. You can feel his chuckle rumble through his chest as he holds you.

"Housekeeper, huh?" he murmurs playfully against your hair. "Is that what I am to you now? I thought I was your boyfriend."

"Boyfriend first, however..." You cast your eyes past his shoulder at the folded pile of laundry on the table. "The housekeeper part needs some work, because I think you put one of your hoodies in my pile."

Wonwoo pulls back slightly, following your gaze to the pile of neatly folded clothes. His lips twitch in a small, amused smile as he spots the hoodie in question𑁋a faded grey one with this cute stitched cat print that you've probably borrowed more times than you can count.

"Hmm, you can keep it anyway," he says casually, turning back to you and leaning in towards you. "I think it looks better on you than me anyway."

Before you can respond, he's brushing his lips against yours slowly and sweetly, and you find yourself chuckling into the kiss as Wonwoo deepens it just a little, his hands resting right at your hips. When he finally pulls back, a boyish grin spreads across his face, and you can't help but mirror it.

Wonwoo presses a kiss to your nose. "What do you want to do tonight?"

You hum thoughtfully. You didn't have anything exactly planned for tonight, and the day seemed to be taking its toll on you.

"Not sure, I'm a bit tired, to be honest..." You let out a small yawn, an apologetic look to your face. "We can just do nothing, if that's fine with you."

Wonwoo's features only soften. "That's perfectly fine with me."

With that, the rest of the evening is established with the two of you slowly settling into a familiar routine. You both finish folding the rest of the clothes, then you find yourself taking a small catnap on the couch while Wonwoo quietly plays some games on his phone right next to you, keeping the volume low so it doesn't disturb you.

When you wake up, you notice that he isn't right next to you anymore; instead, you hear the sounds of the shower being used. Wonwoo must have decided to wash up while you were napping, and the thought brings a wave of bliss as you groggily stretch your limbs.

When you get yourself to stand up, you rub at your eyes before approaching the bathroom door and knocking on the door softly.

"Babe?" You call out.

The water turns off, sounds of shuffling behind the door. "Yeah?"

"Nothing," You respond, voice muffled. "Just wanted to check on you."

It doesn't take long for the door to be creaked open, with Wonwoo's figure emerging from behind it, water droplets glistening on his skin and his dripping hair tousled in that effortlessly charming way you adore. He's wrapped in a towel, looking every bit like he just stepped out of a magazine.

"Did you need something?" he asks while putting on his glasses that were slightly fogged up, and your eyes can't help but flicker over him for a second.

You swallow a lump in your throat, feeling your heart race faster at his presence in front of you and the way the steam curls in the air around him. The towel around his waist clings to his skin, and you swiftly shoot your eyes up to the ceiling and then down to the floor, shaking your head to clear your thoughts.

"No, I-I'm good," You manage to say. "Just wanted to check in on you."

"Yeah?" He tilts his head playfully. "Bummer. Thought you wanted to join me."

Some sort of choked sound leaves you, and you roll your eyes to hide the heat rising to your cheeks.

"In your dreams, mister," You quip back, but it still doesn't make you any less flustered.

There's a teasing glint in his eyes for a fraction of a second, before it simply melts into something softer.

"I wouldn't mind if you wanted to join," he tells you casually, leaning against the door frame, a subtle smirk playing to his lips. "I think you deserve to unwind with a little bit of pampering."

You bite your bottom lip, torn between how temping his offer sounds and the voice in your head reminding you of the boundaries you've carefully maintained... until now, as it seems. Still, the warmth radiating from him and the sincerity in his eyes makes it hard to resist.

So, you let your shoulders deflate.

"Is there a spare towel in there?" You ask him, prodding the door open a little more with a finger.

Wonwoo's face just brightens, and before you know it, he's reaching for your hand and pulling you inside the bathroom, lips meeting yours as soon as the door clicks shut behind you.

Later that night, the two of you order some takeout from a nearby Chinese restaurant. It isn't long for time to drift by as the cozy atmosphere of your apartment settles over both of you. Even the silence that plagues the room is comfortable, tainted with the hum of the television and the occasional clinking of chopsticks as you both revel within the simple joys the night offers𑁋each other.

You regret mentioning how it's getting close to midnight, because now you find yourself watching with a frown as Wonwoo begins to pack his belongings and laundry into a bag.

"Are you sure you... don't want to stay the night?" You question timidly, arms crossed together as you lean against the counter, watching his moments carefully with a frown.

Wonwoo pauses, his hand hovering over his backpack as he glances back at you. "I mean, I could... I have a big meeting in the morning though, and I don't want to impose."

A pang of disappointment hits you at his words.

"I... I love having you here, you know," You say cautiously. "You're practically living here half the time, anyway."

His lips quirk up in that familiar way, a mixture of amusement and affection that never fails to make your heart flutter, before it's quick to dissipate.

"I don't want to be a distraction when you need to get some rest," he replies. "You deserve to have your own space, and I know how important alone time is for you."

"I love having you in my space," You interject, stepping closer to him, desperation creeping into your voice. "and I love sharing my space with you."

Wonwoo lets out a sigh. "Love, I don't want you to feel bur𑁋"

"We can live together."

The bombshell that tumbles out of your mouth takes both of you by surprise, and the room goes quiet for a moment. You can see Wonwoo's eyes widen slightly, and his hand pauses mid-motion as he processes what you just said.

"Are you being serious?" he asks, and you expected for his words to come out in utter shock, perhaps even disbelief and disdain.

Instead, there's a note of wonder in his voice, like he's barely believing everything that you just said.

"I know it's a big step, but I..." You take in a deep breath, glancing down at your fidgeting hands. "I mean, we spend so much time together already, and it feels like... like we could really make it work. I just𑁋I want you to be around more. When I wake up, I want you to be the first person I see, and when I come home from work, I want you there waiting for me."

Silence hangs in the air, and you hold your breath. The seconds that float by feel like an entire millennium has passed, your heart bracing itself for the potential inevitable.

Wonwoo's hand tightens around the bag in his hand. "You really mean all that, don't you?"

"I do," You affirm, mustering all the confidence you can. "I want this. I want you. I want us."

Wonwoo lets out a long awaited, bated breath, his gaze softening as he looks at you. Slowly, he sets his bag down, and in a few strides, he's right in front of you.

"You have no idea how long I've been wanting to hear you say that."

You blink, feeling a rush of warmth flood your cheeks. "Really?"

"Really," he confirms, a bright smile spreading across his face. There's no reluctance or hesitation you hear in his voice, see on his features, or find in the way he's holding your gaze. "I've been thinking about it too, to be honest."

You feel the breath you've been holding finally release, and a laugh escapes you, shaky but full of relief and happiness.

"Let me just say this in advance," You start, lips teasing up in a faint smirk. "I'm sorry for the mess I might bring. I promise to clean it up."

Wonwoo only rolls his eyes and steps closer towards you, cradling your face gently with his hand, caressing over the skin of your cheek oh so tenderly.

"When do we start?" he asks, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead.

"Whenever we want," You reply lowly, lacing your fingers with his. "Whenever we're ready."

Wonwoo pulls you close again to connect his mouth with yours once again. "I think I've been ready from the moment you gave me that spare key, sweetheart."

iii. your heart is in a safe space between my words

There was something particular that always caught your eyes whenever you would casually pass by Wonwoo's desk.

A stack of sticky notes, and a ballpoint pen.

As miniscule as they are, there's something about the way the stack grows smaller over time and the way the pen seems to be slowly losing its ink that makes your heart flutter.

It started off with a simple note you found one day in your lunchbox at work: You're doing great, my love. Have a good day at work!

At first, you didn't think much of it. After all, it was just a little note from Wonwoo, but as you read over the words a hundred times, warmth was quick to sprout within you like a flower seeking the sunlight. And somehow on that same day, not a single cloud had drifted over the sky like the weather had previously forecasted.

From there, that little note was the start of a tradition between you and Wonwoo. Every day, he would leave a sticky note for you somewhere you wouldn't expect it𑁋your bag, your lunch, the mirror of the bathroom, on the screen of your laptop, or even on the cute kitten plushie that hung in your car.

And every day, you found yourself looking forward to these small treasures, your heart racing in anticipation each morning. What would Wonwoo write today?

Today, however, the stack of sticky notes had emptied out.

You don't mind it too much, though; in fact, it still fills your heart nonetheless, knowing that he had shared each note with you so thoughtfully. After all, just thinking about him is enough to get you through the entirety of the day.

Unfortunately, the day goes particularly sluggish. A bunch of workload had been dumped on you, and you nearly get into an argument with your team manager over some stupid revisions to a project that you didn't agree with. Heavy frustration had settled on your chest during the slow hours that pass, yet somehow, you manage to get through the day with gritted teeth.

When the work day finally ends, you find yourself hurrying on the way home just before traffic could reach its peak rush. As you finally pull into the parking space outside your apartment, a wave of relief washes over you. You step out of the car and make your way to the front door, the familiar scent of home swirling around you like the smell of fresh dinner.

As you enter the apartment, you relish in the familiar scent of home with a deep inhale, and you can already feel the stress of the day beginning to melt away.

"Wonwoo?" You call out as you slip your shoes off and place them next to Wonwoo's on the floor.

Silence is all that greets you. Making your way through the small hall way, you peek into the living room. It's quiet, the weak glow from the lamp casts long shadows across the furniture, and it doesn't take you long to spot your boyfriend sitting on the couch.

There's a book in his hands, earphones in place, and he seems completely engrossed in whatever he's reading. You can't help but smile at the sight𑁋his brow furrowed in concentration and the corners of his lips twitching up slightly, the subtle flick of his fingers turning each page as if he's savouring each word.

You approach him quietly, and after turning one more page, he glances up and notices your presence. He pulls one earbud out and sets the book down, already scooting a bit on the couch so that you can sit down.

"Hello, beautiful," he coos lightly, eyes lighting up as he takes you in.

"Hi," You breathe out tiredly. Instead of sitting next to him on the couch, you decide on letting your body fall on top of him, making him let out a tiny oof. "'m tired."

Wonwoo chuckles softly, his arms instinctively wrapping around you as you snuggle into his embrace. "Long day?"

"Very long," You mumble into his neck. "and missed you."

"Missed you too," Wonwoo whispers back, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You let out a content sigh as the warmth radiating from his body seeps into you, and you feel grateful for the safe haven he provides after a day that felt like it would never end. It feels like home.

"Tell me about your day," he prods carefully, his fingers tenderly carding through your strands of hair.

You pull away a bit to meet his gaze. "Well, it started off okay, but it just... snowballed. A lot of meetings, and my manager was being difficult again. I almost lost it over a few stupid revisions."

Wonwoo's expression turns serious, a slight frown tugging at his lips as he processes your words. "I’m sorry, love. That sounds really frustrating."

"It's okay. I'm home now," You say as you slide your body in the spot right next to him on the couch. "Just felt like I was drowning all day."

"Then let me help you float," Wonwoo offers. His thumb begins to stroke your arm soothingly, and you can feel the tension in your muscles slowly releasing under his touch. "I'm proud of you for getting through today. It's not easy, but you always find a way to push through. And remember, it's okay to have days like this. It doesn’t define you. You are so capable, and I'm always here to remind you of that, okay?"

You blink at him, feeling the corners of your eyes prick with heat. "Wonwoo..."

"I'm serious, my love," he insists earnestly. "Sometimes I think you forget how incredible you truly are."

You can't help but let a small smile break across your face, but you shake your head slightly. "You give me so much more credit than I deserve."

"That's where you're wrong," he replies soothingly, his voice steady as he continues to meet your gaze. "You deserve every bit of credit, and I’ll keep reminding you until you believe it too."

His words fill the space between you, wrapping around your body𑁋your heart𑁋like a soft blanket on a cold day.

You let out a shaky breath and lean in closer, pressing your forehead to his. "Thank you. You always know what to say."

"That's my job, precious," Wonwoo murmurs, placing a kiss to the tip of your nose. "Glad to see I'm doing it well."

"You want compensation for that?" You quirk up a teasing brow.

Wonwoo just simply smiles, before cupping your face in his hand and landing a firm kiss right at your lips, and it's filled with the reassurance you've desperately craved for the entire day.

When you pull away, your cheeks are flushed, and you can't help but grin at him, feeling lighter than before. You press your body against his once again, settling into the comfortable embrace as he wraps his arms around you tighter.

"By the way," You say, voice muffled against his shoulder. "I noticed the sticky notes were gone today."

Wonwoo shifts slightly, his fingers still tangled in your hair, and you can feel him smile against your shoulder. "Ah, yeah... I thought I had more, but I guess I didn't. I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. I just..." You purse your lips together, tracing lazy patterns on top of his hand. "I just really look forward to them. They brighten my day, you know?"

Wonwoo tilts his head adorably, studying you for a moment. "You really like them that much?"

"I do!" You admit, smiling against his shoulder. "They make me feel really special."

Wonwoo hums thoughtfully. "I'll make a trip to the store tomorrow then."

"If you do, buy another stack, please."

You pause, feeling a bit embarrassed by how eagerly you're clinging to the idea of these little notes. But before you can add anything, Wonwoo pulls back just enough to look at you, a playful glint in his eyes.

You giggle when you meet his gaze. "Not for you though, for me. I want to start writing you notes too."

Wonwoo's eyebrows raise in surprise, a soft laugh escaping his lips. "I'll be looking forward to it then."

And in the morning, perhaps you'll leave the first note.

iv. it's not what i place in your hands, but what i place in your life

The blinding lights of your vanity shine down on you as you unclip a silver bracelet from around your wrist, placing it gently on the surface of the dresser, the charms clinging together as they settle. It's a bracelet he had gifted you a while back𑁋you had worn it every day since.

Fatigue slowly starts to plague your body as you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You had treated Wonwoo to a date today, and these days, it's rare for you to plan one because he's always the one taking up all those opportunities. It's a tad bit unfair sometimes, but once you got the chance the flip the script, you took it right away.

The door to the bedroom creaks open, and you glance up to see Wonwoo coming inside, still wearing the outfit he had worn for the date. As he catches your eye, a smile lights up his face.

"Hello," he greets, coming up to you from behind, the light shining on his form as he rests his hand on both of your shoulders as you continue to shed off the jewelry you were wearing, giving you a few squeezes.

"Hey," You greet him back, feeling your shoulders relax from his touch.

"Thank you for tonight," he adds fondly. "I had a really great time."

The sincerity in his voice tugs at your heartstrings, a doting smile on your face displayed in the mirror.

"I'm glad," You reply, turning slightly to catch a glimpse of his expression. "Thought you deserved at least a little pampering from me. You always plan things for us."

Wonwoo's eyes sparkle with appreciation, and he takes a step closer, lightly massaging your shoulders with his thumbs. "That only makes me want to step up my game even more, honey."

A pout crosses your face at that, crossing your arms playfully. "No competition here. I just wanted to treat you for once."

"Fair enough," he declares, letting his hands fall back to his side, watching closely as you start to fall into the rhythm of your nighttime routine.

He catches a glimpse of all your jewelry scattered across your vanity, and it warms his heart to see a mixture of some stuff he's personally bought for you, and some pieces that you've picked out on your own over the years.

Wonwoo brings his own hand up to undo his watch and sets it down beside your bracelet, the two pieces contrasting yet complementing each other beautifully. He knows that you aren't biggest person on gifts, yet he loves that you still cherish every little thing he gives you. That's enough for him.

"Think I should invest in getting you a jewelry box for all these," he jokes, trying to lighten the moment as he admires the collection.

You say something in response that he's hardly able to catch, a pitter-patter of hesitation clouding above his head. Unnoticeably, he shoves a hand into the pocket of his pants, fingers fidgeting against something in there. The nerves twist in his stomach, and he takes a moment to compose himself.

"...I just don't get how some people can easily organise all their stuff. I can hardly keep my own desk clean at work!"

Wonwoo nods, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes as his mind races.

"...but I think a jewelry box could work. There's one that I saw at this store I passed by𑁋"

"Sweetheart."

You cut yourself off from your rambling, concern knitting your brows at how suddenly serious he looks. "Yeah?"

He hesitates, glancing at the watch he just set down. "I want to give you something."

There's nervousness in his expression that you see, and you turn your body to fully face him, waiting for him to continue.

Wonwoo opens his mouth as if to declare something, before shutting it quickly. Then he simply takes something out of his pocket, and you watch as he opens up his hand, underneath revealing a delicate-looking necklace resting on his palm, the pendant gleaming under the light.

"A necklace?" You ask him curiously.

"My mom's necklace," he clarifies quietly. "She wore it all the time when I was growing up. It's been passed down in our family, and I thought... I thought maybe you'd want to have it."

Your eyes widen as you lean closer to the shimmering piece, taking in its intricate design. "It's beautiful." You reach out to lightly touch the pendant, before looking back up at him. "Are you really sure?"

He nods slowly. "My mom always said it brought her strength and comfort, and I only hope it could do the same for you."

A lump forms in your throat as you process his words, but the steadiness he attempts to hold in his face reassures you.

"I'll cherish and protect it with my life," You promise him. "Thank you for trusting me with something so important to you.”

Wonwoo just smiles𑁋there's something bittersweet about it𑁋his shoulders relaxing as he watches you admire the necklace. "Can I help you put it on?"

You nod, turning your back to him, meeting eyes with your nervous reflection back in the mirror. He carefully clasps the necklace around your neck, his fingers brushing just the slightest over your skin. You feel the cold pendant settle gently against your collarbone, catching the light in a way that feels almost magical.

"There," he whispers, stepping back slightly to admire how the necklace complements your figure. "It looks perfect on you."

You reach up to touch the pendant, the meaning it carries heavier than the weight itself. You meet his eyes through the mirror, taking in his eyes that holds both certainty and vulnerability, and that small, proud smile he wears, as if he's laying his heart completely bare for you.

And you'll treat it with all the care it deserves𑁋gently, without reservation.

v. your skin is the map where my love finds its way home

"I'm taken, sorry."

Usually, that kind of statement would drive someone away right off the bat, but the man that's looming in front of you𑁋with breath that reeked of alcohol and a smug, ugly-toothed grin plastered on his face𑁋only inches even closer, and you can feel the discomfort coil tighter in your stomach.

"What kind of boytoy leaves a pretty thing like you sitting here all alone then?" the man sneers, holding you in place with his lecherous, glassy gaze. "Come on, darling. We could have a little fun somewhere else."

"My husband is in the bathroom and we're on our honeymoon," You rebuke sharply. "and I don't think he would appreciate you being here."

The man eyes you up and down, huffing out a low laugh that sends a shiver of unease down your spine.

"I don't see a ring on that finger of yours, sweetheart," he taunts, leaning in closer. You can feel the heat radiating off him, and it makes your skin crawl.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as you shift uncomfortably in your seat, trying to create some distance between you and the man. For all the wrong reasons, the man is right about how your ring isn't on your finger, and you can feel the panic increasing in your system. You knew you were wearing it for the entirety of the day, yet as you feel around your finger.

You remember taking it to wash your hands in the restroom, but you could've sworn you slipped it back on before leaving.

Where the hell did it go? "I𑁋" You stammer anxiously. "I must have dropped it."

This only fuels the man's smugness. "See? No ring means no commitment. What's stopping us from having a little fun, huh?"

You can hear your heart pulsing up to your ears in panic while desperately scanning the confined area for any sign of your lost ring, but it's hard to think clearly when he's so close to you.

Just as the anxiety was about to overwhelm you, a voice cuts through the haze of discomfort.

"What's going on here?"

You peer up to see Wonwoo approaching, the sleeves of his button-up rolled up to his elbows and a frown creasing his brow. The sight of him instantly eases some of your tension, but the man in front of you doesn't back down. Instead, he sneers, his demeanour shifting as he sizes up Wonwoo, who doesn't even look the slightest bit intimidated by the drunken man.

"Who do you think you are?" the man slurs.

"I'm their husband," Wonwoo replies flatly, his voice calm but edged with an unmistakable steeliness. He steps in closer to you, wrapping a protective arm around your waist and pulling you more towards him. "And I suggest you back the hell off."

"You think you can just scare me off?" the man growls, trying to regain his composure. "I was just having a little fun. No need to get all riled up."

"Then go take your drunken ass somewhere else to have fun," Wonwoo snaps back harshly, voice lowering to a threatening tone that sends a clear message.

"What's it to you? They're just a pretty face," he spits and snickers, belittling you as if you were nothing more than an object.

"I don't care what you think, jackass," Wonwoo retorts, his grip around your waist tightening; even then you feel the way he's tracing soothingly over your hip. "Walk away before I call security on you for harassing my partner."

The man fixes you and Wonwoo with a callous glare, scoffing dismissively under his breath before turning on his heel and stumbling away toward the bar of the restaurant. The breath you've been holding in finally escapes out of you in a shaky sigh, relief flooding your system.

Wonwoo's hand remains firm on your waist, the other coming to interlock with yours comfortingly.

"Are you okay?" he asks, gaze softening as he returns all his attention back to you.

You give a nod. "Yeah, I-I'm fine. Thank you, I thought he wouldn't go away but he kept pestering me and wouldn't leave, and then I saw that my ring wasn't on my finger and I..." You quickly cut your words off, taking another deep breath. "I'm sorry, I thought I put it on when I left the restroom earlier, but𑁋"

"It's okay, love," Wonwoo interrupts gently. "I've got it."

You blink up at him. "You... You do?"

With a small smile, he reaches into the pocket of his button-up, and there it is: your ring, the diamond on it sparkling under the glow of the restaurant lights. Your heart swells at the sight, relief flooding your chest.

"I found it at the bar when I was coming back. The bartender turned it in," he explains, while carefully slipping the ring back up at your finger. You can't help but smile affectionately as he adjusts it, feeling the cool metal settle back into place.

"Thank you," You tell him. "I was starting to freak out."

"Don't worry," Wonwoo reassures you, letting his thumb brush over the ring on your finger, before bringing your hand up to plant a kiss on your knuckle. "I won't let anything happen to you, okay?"

You take a moment to collect yourself. As the weight of the situation lifts, you feel a warmth spread through you, not just from the relief but also from the way Wonwoo is looking at you𑁋soft, protective, and so utterly devoted.

"Come on, let's go get some gelato and then head back to the hotel." Wonwoo helps you up from the seat, his hand never leaving your waist as he guides you through the bustling restaurant and back outside.

As you walk together, he never lets go of your hand, instinctively squeezing gently every now and then and drawing lazy shapes on your palm as you wait for your gelato. You catch glimpses of other couples around you, their hands linked in similar gestures, but none feel quite like this.

Wonwoo wasn't much of a public display of affection kind of person, but in these moments, he feels different. And you weren't complaining at all𑁋you love when he's not afraid to remind the world of his affection for you.

After treating yourself with gelato (well, Wonwoo had paid for yours, even when you protested no), both of you make your way back to the hotel. The moment the cool air of the room hits your face, a wave of exhaustion courses through you as you place yourself at the edge of the bed.

"Wow, that was a day," You mutter, leaning over to begin removing your shoes, yet Wonwoo is quick to kneel down before you, gently encouraging your hands away. He helps slip them off your feet with a careful, tender touch. His fingers graze against your skin as he sets your shoes aside.

"There," he says with a small smile, looking up at you. "Better?"

You nod, feeling the tension in your muscles begin to ease. "Much better, thank you."

You watch with half-lidded eyes as he stands back up to sit himself down on the bed right behind you, the mattress dipping with his weight. The warmth from his body presses against your back, his hands coming up to caress up and down your arm.

His breath hits the skin of your nape, and that alone was enough to send goosebumps surging through you. He's awfully close to you now, close enough that his lips are just barely ghosting your skin.

He trails his fingers from your shoulder down to your wrist, and you can't help but shiver when he leans in, his lips landing a featherlight kiss to the top of your shoulder, then slowly, they trail up to the curve of your neck, planting brief, lingering kisses that make you melt in his hold.

"Won..." You whisper, your voice nearly lost in the quiet of the room.

Wonwoo only hums in response, his lips landing to the sensitive spot right below your ear, and you feel a slight shiver ripple through you, your breath hitching as he pauses there, savouring the closeness.

"You have no idea..." he rasps lowly against your ear. "...how much I love knowing you're mine."

Your breath hitches at that, his words etching like a scar in your mind as his hands come to toy playfully with the strap of the dress you wore, before leisurely bringing it down your shoulder.

You don't even have to look at him to see the subtle smirk to his face, his mouth trailing its way down from your nape and to the delicate curve of your shoulder, where he presses another tender kiss, this time lingering just a bit longer, eliciting a hushed sigh from you.

After a few moments, you shift your body around so that you're facing him, and the heat of his gaze sends your heart racing. Swiftly, he pulls you closer, basically placing you on top of him as your legs straddle his waist.

A nervous giggle tumbles out of you. "Hi."

Wonwoo's face melts into a soft smile. "Hello."

You aren't sure who leans in first, but suddenly your lips are brushing against his. His hands find their way to your waist, fingers pressing gently into your sides as he deepens the kiss.

"I love you."

"I love you too," he breathes against your lips, hands roaming from your waist to the small of your back and pressing you flush against him, erasing any remaining space between you.

After a few more kisses, you pull away slightly, locking a firm gaze with the man right beneath your touch.

"So," You start, an impish look to your face. "You're my husband now."

Wonwoo's lips curve into a smirk, and he raises an eyebrow, leaning back slightly as he holds your gaze. "That seems to be the case."

A light laugh escapes you as you lean in closer, feeling the delicate fabric of his shirt beneath your fingertips. Your eyes drop momentarily to the buttons of his shirt, and without thinking, your fingers instinctively begin to unbutton the first few, revealing a glimpse of his toned chest beneath.

His breath hitches at your touch. "Love..."

"You don't have to hold back, you know," You whisper between kisses, a playful tone to your voice along with a twinge of softness.

Wonwoo sucks in a deep breath at that, reaching up to push some strands of hair behind your ear. All he could do right now is simply stare at you, admire you, knowing damn well he’ll fly to the skies and catch a star if you asked for one.

"I know," he mumbles quietly. "Just want you to be comfortable."

"I am comfortable," You assure him calmly, your fingers still playing with the buttons of his shirt. Each small tug reveals a bit more of him, and you marvel at how his skin glows under the dim light.

For a moment, he studies your expression for any hesitation, before slowly dragging the other strap of your dress down your arm, exposing more of your skin to him to worship, to map out with the tender graze of his fingertips, almost as if he’s tracing constellations on your skin. The chill of the hotel rooms sends goosebumps dancing down your body, but his warmth quickly envelops you as he leans down, peppering loving kisses along your collarbone.

"You're beautiful," he mutters, letting his hands glide over your skin, tiny sparks emitting from his fingertips. His words drip of adoration. "Can I?"

You take note of the way his mouth twitches up into a satisfied grin when he looks back up at you. Even with all the longing he's showing you right now in the way he's holding you, touching you, there's still that undeniable softness that hasn't seemed to lose its spark since he's laid eyes on you all those years ago.

"You can," You answer simply. "You can have me."

Your words send a shudder through him, his heart pounding against his ribcage at the invitation.

"You're going to be the death of me, you know that?" A breathless laugh escapes his lips as he captures your chin gently with his hand.

This only brings a smirk to your face.

"Then let me be your heaven."

That's all it takes. Wonwoo knows that he's playing with fire, but getting burned by you is a risk he's more than willing to fuel.

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[messenger-of-babel]

Always Late

Summary: Batman was late when you needed him the most, but he refused to let it happen again. (Batfamily x sibling!reader)

Word Count: 4.5K (This was supposed to be a quick fic 💀)

Notes: BIG AUTHOR NOTE INCOMING Before anyone comes for me- I know this was supposed to be a day for Chris. I'm just feeling a touch sick but still want to get a fic out, and I'm currently not able to churn out and go through his, so I'll write some Chris later! Instead I wanted something else, consider it a change up to shake some life back into the theme. I also rambled hella long on this one, so strap in, it's long and the plot got lost in the maze of my mind. I had to shuffle things around and it just kept growing and growing, oh my god so I hope it makes sense to everyone still. Clark caemo, some (very??) OOC villain work cause I forgot some of my original plot and villains so begging on my knees for forgiveness fr. GRAPHIC VIOLENCE/ TORTURE DESCRPTION FOR SOME AREAS. I should have made this two parts but I messed up and made just one massive fic. Was supposed to be batfam x reader but it started feeling more like bruce x reader hahaha. RIP my sleep schedule please reap the benefits of my labour. 😭

Again I was originally here to be a resi blog but I can't help writing for DC after a day of reading comics. On that topic I actually finished collecting Tom Taylor's run at #118, my store held #119 for me so I get to read that as a reward after the hell that will be my Monday.

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When you were taken, it caused a widespread panic among Gotham.

Tabloids across the city wrote about the latest missing person, this time none other than the latest member of billionaire Bruce Wayne's family. The Gotham Gazette had been running articles about you for months already, including the scandal that had come with it. Your dirty laundry and past had been aired for the entire city to read and speculate upon. Whether Bruce had just adopted you out of pity, sympathising with the way that you had lost your parents the same way he had. Gossip about it could all be a ploy for him to expand his influence in Gotham, after the riches and estate that your family had left you behind in their untimely death. The city was thrown into chaos from the death of your parents, both of them from founding Gotham families and well-established lawyers. It was shaken more once the Wayne had taken you into his household, and now it was all but alight as you vanished.

Fingers pointed in every which way, your disappearance marking the fourth among affluent families in Gotham. Accusations had even been hurled at Bruce, claiming that he had killed you in order to gain your assets and the other missing people were to establish an alibi. After all, Bruce Wayne had no alibi for the night that you went missing.

But he had an alibi.

Bruce reflected upon that fact for three days already, while he tore his hair out trying to find you. He had been out in the city, patrolling as usual. The disappearances were the latest case, and he was determined to stop them before they continued. He had been so involved in the case, standing so close to the evidence that he didn't even consider the option that he himself would be affected, or consider the perpetrator might targe the Waynes. he hadn't expected to get a call from Alfred a little past midnight, the butler wheezing painfully into the receiver.

Blood freezing in his veins he had come home to an empty house, windows on the third story smashed in. Alfred was slumped by the phone, its sleek body hanging off the hook. Bruce had pulled the cowl off without a second thought, cradling the older man's head in his lap with shaky hands. He had relaxed slightly when there was a steady pulse under his fingers, and the tension eased further when the older man had opened his eyes.

"Alfred," Bruce had sighed out, moving the old man from his lap to against the wall, hand keeping him upright. "Are you okay-"

"They took them." came the old man's mumbled reply, and for a second Bruce's jaw just hung there.

"What do you mean?" he asked, heart thudding painfully against his ribs, panic rising once more.

"They came through the window, cut the lights. I pretended to be unconscious to use the phone line, but they came back. Cut it shortly after I rang you." the older man said, looking up with remorseful eyes. "I'm so, so sorry, Mr. Wayne." he said forlornly. "I couldn't stop them."

Bruce looked down; jaw tensed. "It wasn't your fault." he said firmly, trying to quell the despair radiating off the old man.

"They took them kicking and screaming. I could hear them the entire time, but I couldn't do anything I-"

"Alfred." Bruce said sternly. "Alfred it's okay. Let me handle it, you go make some tea." he said, helping the old man stand up.

"Tea, yes, yes that's right..." the butler murmured to himself, hand to his head. "It's been a while since you asked me for tea, sir."

"It's not for me." Bruce said, pulling the cowl back on. "It's for you. make yourself some tea and we'll patch you up. Take it easy tonight, wait for the shock to wear off."

Alfred looks at him, hesitating, but eventually nods. "We, sir?"

Bruce hums, fists at his side. "Yes. This case has escalated. It's time to request help."

He keeps his voice level as he walks away, but Alfred notes the way that he turns the corner, and the anger put into his stride.

When he gets to the cave he wastes no time, calling in everyone he can think of. His chest feels tight, breath short as his vision swims. Every signal he can send he does, the blurring in his eyes seeping into his mind too. He cradles his head in his hands, trying to calm it but to no avail. It's only when the ringing of the Batcomputer cuts through the fog that he is able to look up, shaking fingers hitting the accept call button.

"Batman?" comes the crackly voice of Nightwing, and the fog begins to clear slightly.

"Nightwing." he says back gruffly, voice hoarse.

"About time, you were making people pretty worried, you know." Dick chides, and there's the sound of yapping in the background. "What's the brief? What's happened?"

"Kidnapping." he says, voice thick. "Broke into the manor. Alfred is likely to be concussed, but it shouldn't be too serious. He's making tea, Robin is out on the other side of the city tonight. Red Robin is with you, isn't he?"

There's more shuffling on the other end before Dick responds. "Yeah, he's been helping in Bludhaven, he came last night."

"Bring him. Bring Oracle too. Everyone...come home." he murmurs, hands shaking as he tries to think clearly.

"Bruce, is everything okay with you?" Dick comes in, concern evident.

"Fine. I need people back immediately. Why?" he huffs back, rubbing the spots from his eyes with his fingers.

"Because we've all been trying to call you for the last few minutes. This is the first time you've picked up."

Bruce takes a deep breath, exhaling softly. He hadn’t realised how badly he had spaced out. "It's an emergency. They...they’re gone. They need to come home."

"The new kid?" Dick breathes. "Wait, you mean-"

Bruce nods even though he knows his eldest cannot see him. "Gone. Now come back and come back tonight." he ends the call before Dick can say anything else, and his tired eyes scan the monitor filled with a string of outgoing distress calls and an equally large number of missed ones. In his haze he had pressed every com line he had. He had pinged Jason, he had pinged Dick. Hell, he had even pinged the League and Clark, who hadn't even bothered to call for clarity, his response status just reading, 'On my way'.

He held his head in his hands, breaths laboured.

Bruce had held his own reservations when adopting you. He knew about the media uprising that it would cause, the rumours that were sure to fly. He had known what kind of mental state that would put you in, how it would angle you in a whole new world of cameras, but he couldn't help himself. He had seen you while in the suit, and maybe he had taken you in to make himself feel better. For not catching the person who had killed your parents, arriving too late. He had been training for this his entire life, it was his entire mission in Gotham, yet he couldn't stop the very crimes that had put him on this path.

If he had been faster maybe he could have saved your parents, disarming the man with the knife before it plunged into the chest of your father. Maybe he could have arrived faster so that he could have caught the offender that robbed your mother before giving her the same treatment and fleeing into the night. Instead, he was only there fast enough for him to hear you scream as your parents collapsed to the floor. He was there as you cried and shook them and tried to stop the blood spilling through your fingers, but you were unsure where to start. After all, how can someone make a decision between stopping the flow seeping from their father’s chest and the one from their mother’s throat?

He had been there to pull you away, was there to catch the last dying light of your father as he stroked your cheek before making eye contact with Bruce. "Look after my kid." he had whispered, something Bruce had nearly missed under all your screaming. Bruce pulled you away while he called for the GCPD, and from one father to another, he made sure to keep that promise.

Your relationship had been rough, clearly distraught at the way you lost your parents. You were older than he was when the same had happened, but you were still young. You had clung to Bruce the day he said he was going to take you in, and he had managed to soothe you with a soft hand up and down your back. Yet as the tabloids got worse and the gossip began to grow, you began pulling away from him and seeking the comfort of your room instead. He had done his best to protect you from the media, paying money to have articles removed and when that didn't work, he threatened to sue. It made the Gazette pull their head in a bit, but it still failed to be enough. Evidently, as there was now an empty bedroom on the third floor of the east wing.

All he could do was sigh and blink away the images of the children he had hurt, in the name of Robin or otherwise. He had to rub away the death of Jason that he reflected on in sombre moments when he thought no one was looking. He had gotten you into this mess, attached you with his name and all of its subsequent burdens. So, it was his duty to get you back and get you back safe.

Yet three days later, he had nothing.

The cave had been a buzz of activity for all three days, and Bruce, no, Batman, was acting close to a slave driver. Tim and Barbara hadn't left the caves computers in days, Damian and Steph constantly scouring the rooftops. Dick was concerned, hell, everyone was. Even the gruff Jason had been called in, and reluctantly he had answered.

"You find anything?" Dick asked, leaning against the wall with his younger brother. Jason was still suited up, coming back from the patrol around Bristol area. He removes the mask and shakes his hair free, sighing.

"Nothing. Areas come up empty. No sign of 'em."

Dick sighs, running a hand through his hair. "God, there's nothing on my end either. The Docks and all Southside of Gotham are clean, no traces. Any signs pointing to who it could be?"

Jason shrugs, helmet tucked under his arm. "No idea, as it stands, the kid's just gone missing. If Bruce isn't able to scrounge up a lead, I doubt I will. Not my forte. He should give Tim a break and send him out."

"Yeah, like he'll do that. He's got him tied to cave duty." Dick scoffs back. He feels bad, talking like your kidnapping was a causal affair. He didn't treat it like one, his heart stuttering when Bruce had called him in a haze and all shaken. It didn't a genius to see how attached Bruce had gotten to you in such a short amount of time, but sometimes Dick worried that Bruce was projecting his own trauma onto you. But still you were his younger sibling, a part of the family now. He had met you with a warm smile and a gentle hand the day that you moved in, coming in from Bludhaven to make the house a bit more lively while you got settled in. God, he knew what it was like moving in alone into that empty house, with only Bruce and Alfred to warm the halls. He had eaten dinner with you, took you out for walks in the garden when your grief allowed you move more than a few paces. He did his absolute best, and he knew that with time he could be a big brother to you.

Yet you hadn't been given the time, snatched away before Christmas even hit. He doubted you knew that Bruce was the Batman, or that the rest of the family had an interesting array of night lives.

Jason was the same in the way that he hadn't interacted with you much.

Honestly, he was awkward with kids, since the last kid of Bruce's he had met was the devil spawn who spat at him like an angry cat every chance he got. You were thankfully much older and easier to understand, but that still didn’t mean smooth sailing. Jason hated even coming back to the manor, and he and Bruce had been having one of their ongoing fights during the time he took you in, meaning he missed seeing you often. Yet he still talked to Dick (more so that Dick called him to make sure that he was okay) and the older man had seen you plenty. He felt like he knew you from Dick alone, but he wasn't oblivious to your story printed in the newspapers shoved under his apartment door. He pitied you, understood the grief that you must have been going through at the sudden violence that tossed your little world upside down. Sure, you had gone from luxury to luxury, but Gotham was unkind to everyone. it was the same violence that Jason strode to clean off the street, and his heart ached deep down that someone like you had managed to get caught in its claws.

"Do you think it could be the clown?" Dick asks quietly. "He'd do something as ballsy as this."

Jason tenses, thinking for a moment before shaking his head. "Not likely. That bastard likes to make a spectacle of things. No doubt he would have contacted the Bat the second he took the first victim or aired it like some twisted game show. It's not like him to lay quiet."

"So, it's someone else. It's unnatural for Gotham's villains to do something in the dark like this. I mean, it's been three days since they were abducted, and they're the fourth kidnap victim. There hasn't been a ransom note, a demand, a body. Not a peep for any of the captives. It's unnatural."

Jason hums in agreement, but they both jump as Bruce storms through grandfather clock entrance.

Everyone present turns, watching how Clark trails after him. Five sets of eyes watch the livid way the Bat cuts a path through the cave and gets into the batmobile, breaths too anxious to be released. Without a word the car screams out of the cave, and they all turn to Clark. Barbara casts a glance to Tim and then to Dick, who just shrugs, worry deepening on his face.

"What the hell's going on?" Jason growls, pushing off from the wall. Clark turns to face him, dressed in his Superman suit.

"We’ve found them." Clark says, face grim, and Dick shares a look with Jason. However, when Dick meets the eyes of Superman, he can see the flicker of worry in the Kryptonian. "Well let's get going then. Why did he leave alone?" Dick asked, slipping the domino mask back onto his face. Clark opens his mouth to speak but is cut off as Damian steps out behind his broad figure.

"Because it's the League." the younger boy says, green eyes boring in Dick's. "It's grandfather."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Bruce drove like his life depended on it, which wasn't fair when it was yours on the line instead. He could see the dots on his monitor indicating that the others were following him, and he had assumed that Clark had proceeded to fill them in. He had asked his old friend to look after the city while he sped towards the outskirts, just in case the League decided to do something while he had his guard on the city lowered. His com crackled to life, radio filling the otherwise silent car.

"Oi." snapped the voice of Red Hood, modulated and grainy. "Don't leave without telling us what's going on. Aren't you the one always spewing that 'feel-no-emotion' bullshit? To not let it cloud your judgement? Cause from the way I see it, you're acting kinda hazy."

"I trusted Clark would fill you in." he says back, voice tense. Red Hood scoffs.

"Yeah, and he did. You called us. You tell us what the hell you want us to help with, otherwise don't bother calling at all. Don't drag us out, get us invested then not let us help when it comes to it. What was your plan, beat the shit out of Ras and taken them back by yourself?"

Bruce falls silent, and there's a slight huff from Jason on the other end.

"Honestly? not the worst plan you've had, and I respect the enthusiasm, but you still should have looped us in. I want to get a hit in too."

Bruce turns his head to the direction of the radio, snapped from his concentration on the road momentarily and it's like Jason can feel his confusion through the commlink.

"Don't give me that silence." he groans. "They're family, aren't they? I'm not opposed to a younger sibling, you know." he huffs irritably. "But do me a favour and control Nightwing, hey? He's looking as coiled as you. You might have to fight him for the first hit."

Bruce doesn’t say anything before the comm cuts off, leaving him in the silence once more and eyes going straight back onto the red dot mapped onto his GPS. You.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

When you awoke the first time, you couldn’t feel anything. Your hands were tied to your ankles behind you, black cloth wrapped around your eyes. what you did know was that you were lying somewhere concrete, face pressed into the dusty cement. You knew that on the day that you woke and they had brough you were, that there were other people thrown in the same cell as you. You also knew that those other people were dead.

You had heard them scream, heard the way that they begged for their lives when they were dragged from the pen you were in. One a day, until you were left alone with no one to talk to. They had all been kidnapped like you, affluent people that you recognised the names and voices of. You had heard some of them at events you parents had hosted and attended, and when you traded names, they had remembered you immediately. You weren't dumb, you knew that you had all been taken here because you were rich. That was the only thing that you had in common with the heiresses and finance brokers that had shared the cells with you, huddled up against the cool metal.

Now the only thing left was you and the stickiness that crept under the bars of your cage, grateful that the blindfold was on so you didn't have to see what it was. At first you thought that you were alone, that your captors had left, but you knew better. You could sense them all around you, quiet and watching. They were like an uncomfortable prickling on your neck, the ghost of fingertips across your skin. Yet the hours and minutes had bled into days, and now you didn’t care if they were there or not.

You knew that they wanted to kill you. They had killed the rest. You had been given small amounts of food and water the first day or two, but today there had been none. Your mouth was dry as you lay on your side, lips cracking with the desire to drink. Your throat felt like sandpaper when you swallowed, and the silence that you were met with when you called out only made your panic and helplessness rise. You had lost the ability to cry, body sluggish. It felt like everything was shutting down, the pain in your stomach unbearable and tongue heavy in your mouth. As the heat crept in and pulled sweat from your unwilling skin, you began wishing that they would kill you.

You supposed that your wish was answered when the creak of your cell signalled one of your silent observers had come for you, and the tug on the ropes binding your limbs together made you lurch forward. You kept your face pressed down, too weak to struggle against them as they dragged you out and gripped your hair, making you shift onto your knees at an awkward angle. For the first time in days, you heard someone speak.

" So, this is Bruce's new...child." Your captor hummed. You could hear the way that their boots scuffed as they walked, coming to stand in front of you. You could faintly feel the swish of fabric, long and tickling the floor. "I wonder if he was planning to hand the title of Robin over so soon.”

Your eyebrows furrow, but your barely functioning brain fails to process what he's saying.

"Are you aware of your family's lineage?" comes the voice from above you, commanding and deep with a hint of something malicious in the undertone, like a coiled snake waiting to strike. “Your real family, the ones who claimed to practice a just and fair law. Not Wayne.”

 You manage to shake your head weakly, grimacing as the image of your parents covered in blood flickered into your mind.

The voice above you tuts. "The sins of the father shall be bestowed upon the son," he recites softly. "And you are to pay the penance. Gotham will be purged, and the bloodlines of the corrupt shall be the first to burn, aware of their sins or not."

You don't even get a chance to ask what he's saying, the words sounding like biblical rambling. A scream is ripped through your throat instead as a sharp hot pain erupts through your shoulder, the sound of your own skin bubbling making you sick. You wail, body aching to thrash but the fatigue and weakness preventing you from doing such. The hands on your shoulders hold you still as the sensation is repeated across your body, stray tears leaking from your eyes despite your dehydrated state. It's only when you feel like you’re about to cross over, embrace the light spilling behind your eyes that you realise that the hands have left your body and that you're lying face down, discarded on the concrete floor.

You can feel the ache all over your body, a stinging and writhing pain that makes your whimper involuntarily. You can now make out that there is sound around you, echoing off the empty walls and causing your head to throb after days of silence.

For Bruce however, the world was silent despite being in the thick of the fight. They had pulled up the abandoned building on the edge of Gotham and Bludhaven, thankfully located by Clark and his x-ray vision after days of searching. He had stormed into the building with Dick, Jason, and Tim on his heels, his hands filled with a shake only the trained eye could determine as rage. The world had dripped into the pulsing cadence of his heartbeat as soon as he saw you, kneeling at Ra’s feet and being held by league assassins. He had hardly any time to process the way that you curled up and into yourself when you were dropped so carelessly, head thudding lifelessly against the floor. Forlorn, he eyed the way your body was covered with cuts and stabs, burns from the red-hot sword still held in the hands of a soldier. He hadn't known when the league had decided to dabble in torture, but Bruce felt like joining that night.

Jason and Tim were dealing with the assassins, the younger male finally freed from desk duty. He didn't know you as well as he would have liked considering that you lived under the same roof as him, but you had been warming up. He had really hoped that you could get along, but now he feared that this was going to push your back into the shell you had just started to crack, and that frustration was evident in the whistling of his bow staff as it cut through the air.

Dick had gone after Ra’s immediately while Batman raced for you, Dicks escrima sticks going for the head. Dick was fast and agile, muscles more tensed than usual as he sent well placed blow after blow. Yet Bruce wasn’t an idiot, he knew the limits of him and his team, and he knew the limits of Ra’s. That's why in what limited time that Dick bought for him he dropped to your side, slicing through your bonds with a batarang and letting your arms and legs fall free from their cramped position behind you. You groan lightly as he cradles you to his chest, weakly crying out as he justles the many wounds. He loosens the blindfold from your eyes, and your blink up at him a few seconds later, squinting against the light.

Your skin is sticky with blood both your own and not, flecked across the apple of your cheeks. He eyes the burns, the warped and rippled skin that blistered angrily and would surely get infected if not treated soon. He observes the many cages set up in the corner, the one he presumes was yours wide open and empty. He feels sick seeing the dead bodies in the other ones, imagining that it could have been you in there, dead like some caged animal for slaughter.

You make a weak whimper when he stands, and he has half a mind to join Nightwing in beating Ras so badly he'd need to use the pit again.

But he doesn’t.

He rises to his feet with you in his arms, and he calls for a retreat. You cry and moan as he hurries out, Jason and Tim covering your exit while Dick flips into the rafters and out of range of the Demon Head. He wants to fight; he wants to put them in their place for hurting his family. But the moment he had met your eyes again, it was like that day in the alleyway. You had seen him as Batman too that day, but as he laid you hurriedly in the back of the batmobile and patched Oracle in to prep the med bay, he knew that something was different from that night.

Because unlike the day you lost your parents, he had made it in time.

[scarletfire03]

Hell yeah this redesign is done!

I have a few things to say about the design but it's gonna get a bit rambly so I'm putting it below the keep reading line :p

Basically, the idea was to make a more realistic design for headcrab mouths. I want my critters to look like actual lifeforms and not just monsters :)

Obviously, the HL1 beak had to come back for the whole "bite open skull and then do the zombification magic" thing to work. You cant suck a skull open. It's not a jawbreaker. I did take the idea from HLAs headcrab and gave them an upper and lower beak. (although the OG design has a sideways mouth but whatever) I also made the beak more gnarly with some "teeth" to create punctures in the skull so that the force of the beak pressing down can turn the punctures into cracks more easily.

I also decided to elaborate on the little claws under the HLA headcrabs legs and I made them secondary legs in a way :P

Here is a diagram of what parts correspond to which parts of my redesign:

Another thing I redid on these guys was the coloration. I based it on hl1 and hl2 where they are very yellowish. It's mostly to keep them consistent with other critters related to them (bullsquids, houndeyes, ichthyosaurs, leeches, and so on) but also I kind of dislike the pink meaty coloration it makes them look so much like pussy lmao

Also, why do HLA headcrabs have hemoglobin when their blood is meant to be green...

yeah, that's another thing I decided to throw away. green blood all the way!

now that looks a lot more alien imo.

I also had the idea that headcrabs use their vibrantly green colored venom sacs to deter predators. kinda like a billboard saying "do not mess with me"

I hope this isnt a complete mess that I just wrote and that yall understand what Im trying to say xD Im not the best at formatting my thoughts into a post. I dont know what I will work on next. torn between finally making an intro post to sardius, a really big speculative biology project i have been working on for ages, and writing about how headcrabs might have evolved

[strwberri-milk]

Hi hi! May I request Childe, Heizou, and Wriothesley (add anyone else if you want) with an Author!Reader who usually writes crime/detective, mystery, and horror? Reader is sometimes stressed and sleep deprived because of this and their writing space is a mess with papers everywhere too.

It's okay if you won't do this one! ^^

Childe absolutely finds it fascinating. He doesn't have too much time in between work to really dedicate to reading the books you've written but he does his best. He's got copies of your books lining the shelves in his office and when people ask he tells them they're yours and that he strongly recommends the books himself.

Sometimes, you shyly approach him to ask for some details that only he could provide to help make your books just a bit more realistic. It makes him very happy to hear that you need his help and when you show him the parts that he helped with he can't help but specifically mark those pages off to read over and over again, fascinated by how you turn his loose explanations into insightful prose.

He doesn't mind the mess you leave behind when working - in fact he likes to rifle through it - but he does hate how stressed and tired you are. No matter how often he finds you passed out in your work he'll always take care to put you in bed and clean you off so you can rest. He won't leave you alone which means you're forced to rest, falling asleep against his chest.

Heizou didn't realise he was a casual fan of your books until after you told him that you wrote some of the books he's got on his shelf. You were just making a simple observation, not wanting to keep your occupation a secret nor make a big deal out of it but he took the opportunity to pull down the most memorable one and ask you some questions he remembers having while reading the book.

He likes to pop in whenever you're really struggling on a scene, wanting to offer up his expertise whenever you find yourself in a particular difficult situation in your writing. You can hand off sections of your manuscript to him and he's more than happy to read through the pages. Most often he points out any discrepancies he can personally find and helps reconcile them when he can.

The two of you often end up accidentally spending the night working on your projects, trying to keep each other awake or trying to convince the other person to go to sleep. You both try to work in organised chaos so he's familiar with how to stack your papers before you fall asleep to prevent ruining your workflow. You try to complain that you've got too much to do but he won't take any of it, shoving you back into bed playfully to make sure you manage to sleep.

Wriothesley likes to come down from the day with his tea, snacks, and a nice book in hand. It just so happens he was recommended for your book and he recognised the pen name you said that you use when writing. Without telling you, he quickly finishes the book and starts on another, finding himself thoroughly excited to work his way through your work.

You like watching the people in the prison, finding inspiration from the passing stores people tell you or just things you happen to over hear. You've got a lot of little notes sitting around of things you might want to expand on but for now, you're never lacking inspiration.

He also loves watching you work. It's always fun for him to try and make sense of all the paper you leave around. It's like some sort of puzzle he work on as you ramble to him about some ideas you've got for the continuing of your story - something he also listens to very intently.

Whenever it looks like you're about to pass out due to exhaustion or stress he simply removes you from your work site. He'll make sure you've got something to eat or drink before tucking you into bed no matter what you tell him. He'll remind you you can't do your best work if your mind is distracted and your body is starving and considering how assertive he can be there's not much you can do, but you also don't mind.

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Hey Mat, Long time no see, or write, or anything really.. feel free to rip this letter to shreds if you feel like it, I wouldn’t blame you. I didn’t exactly plan on dipping like that and I’m sure you’re probably pissed, or were but if you somehow manage to get through this stupid thing, then thanks… I’m doing better, thankfully.. sorted my shit out, like you said, as much as I think I can anyway… I’ve been clean for a while now, bar a few mishaps but I guess I should know by now that fucking up is just a part of myself that I can’t really change. I always liked that about you guys though, how you never judged me for it, I’ve found some pretty neat people here too, for the most part. I kinda cut my parents off too, but I dunno if I feel bad about that or not yet, guess I’m still figuring it out. I might give em another chance but half of me expects nothing to change, so I dunno… I kinda miss the Bay n’ stuff sometimes too y’know? Maybe not the rain though.. but I think I got so used to leaving things behind I didn’t really think it’d be any different this time around, maybe I was wrong. I’m doing okay, I guess.. but there’s a piece of me that feels like maybe I left a part of myself behind too. That sounds a bit dramatic huh? I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this… I suppose I’ve kinda been letting myself think about the past recently, someone got into my head about using it to move ahead instead of running from it and like, the elephant in the room n’ all that? I’m grateful you talked some sense into me before I did something I might’ve regretted not that I would have I didn’t mean to put you in that position though and I’m sorry if you thought maybe it was your fault that I left, cos it wasn’t. So uh can’t believe I just wrote uh out but I just wanted to apologise for leaving the way I did, without saying anything, and I hope none of you hate me for it and I hope you’re doing okay, no, better than okay! I really hope you worked things out with the whole Pixie thing too, I still think that was amazing, what you did I think it’d be neat if you had a relationship with her. Sometimes I wonder if I helped at all hopefully she’s doing good, either way though cos whatever you decided was for the best, no doubt. This letter is a rambling mess, I know.. but hopefully it’s better than nothing you can burn it if you want Can you tell I flunked lang/lit? I skipped write a letter day too I guess, my bad hah.. never was any good with words, written or spoken, but I’m sure you remember that. Anyway, say hi to everyone for me if you want, but you don’t have to - especially Oscar & Courtney, they don’t know how much they helped me.. and lil Robin, but I bet he’s not so little anymore. I shouldn’t have waited so long but uh.. better late than never? Okay peace.. T x ps. I almost didn’t post this but someone practically dragged me to the post box and now I’m nervous at the thought of you reading it.. which I’ll bet you find pretty funny, which is why I told you I guess pps. I don’t expect you to write back so dw about it if you don’t

TEXT MSSG:

Pick you up at 12? x Can’t make it… Why not? I’m sick I already bought tickets! Do you want me to come over, nurse you back to health? ;) I’m good, take someone else x Fiiine, get some rest sweet cheeks xx

[crushedsweets]

what is the relationship between Nina and Toby? and what’s Clocky’s reaction to it

OK SO. in Creeped(my au) "canon" they arent romantic or anything, the Ninatoby ship art i posted is just cuz i like the ship LOL ...

BUUUT in my AU, they are really close and have a pretty confusing, but mostly positive, friendship! Honestly a lot of this is me sorta just rambling off concepts about them in my AU but. What am i if not off topic. i wrote liek 35898 pages

to begin, Toby met Nina through Jeff. Jeff would be hanging around the area, arm around Nina, showing her off like she's some trophy. so toby didnt really think much of her at first, just one of jeffs chicks - not really her own person. He’d not think twice when jeff would tell her to get the guys a beer or tell her to fix her clothes or generally being shitty to her - until jeff raises his voice at Nina, then toby is more likely to Sit up and watch a bit more carefully cuz he doesnt know what to expect and hes not gonna just watch jeff scream at her (although she’d be quick to scream back). 

I like to think that’d be one of the tuning moments for their relationship, jeff starts berating nina and standing up, toby perks up and is getting ready to intervene cuz it brings back bad memories, and nina starts screaming back cuz she DGAF. she dgaf. So toby would be like oh. Okay. so she does think for herself. an d the next time jeff tells nina to go get them beers, toby might be like “nah its fine i can get my own” rather than nodding along. FIX HIS BRAIN A LITTLE BIT. 

BUT because nina was coworkers with Natalie for a while(and friends), he eventually started hanging around nina more often casually. it sounds shitty but he used her for ego boosts cuz she was so quick to fawn over him ("you're so strong!! oh, that scar is so cool! i looove this haircut on you toby, let me touch!"). And i think its pretty nice for both of them, sort of passive bonding? Cuz toby grew up with a sister and a mom always smothering him and hugging him and lyra would ask him to braid her hair, and nina is just filled to the brim with affection spilling over in everything she does. MUTUALISTIC RELATIONSHIP. THEYRE THE ALIGATOR AND BIRD

AND they're both naturally pretty touchy people (toby wrapping his arms around shoulders, patting backs, picking people up, messing with hair. nina leaning on people, holding hands, tracing shapes, sitting on laps). i like to think that was one of the things that reaaaaallly got on jeffs nerves, which is part of the reason jeff and nina become so toxic with nonstop cheating on eachother, screaming matches, and his eventual stabbing. and part of why jeff and toby went from being pretty good buddies, to getting physically violent with eachother at the drop of the hat. And nina is really, really appreciative to have someone do that for her - cuz she’s the type to sit on the fence between friends, play both sides, not be assertive about who was right/wrong, etc and she’s used to everyone around her brushing off her feelings and how she’s treated. so toby firmly being like “he hurt you, i care about you, so i dont fuck with him anymore. Simple” would make her feel very like Wow. i feel important.

HOWEVER, they’re both really emotional, and really, really sensitive. It presents different, with ninas emotions being more like a breaking dam of tears and screaming and drowning in it, while toby is explosive shouting and burning and aggressive and just wants to suffocate the fire. Toby is a hypocrite though, and views Nina’s emotions as weak and pathetic just cuz she’ll cry and babble. He doesnt quite grasp that theyre both sensitive, he just validates his own anger as a ‘useful’ emotion that ‘gets shit done’ while nina is a whining babbling mess who wallows in it… AND HE’LL TELL HER THAT LMAAAOOO. And nina is mean and spiteful and will be crying while going off about how he’s a virgin loser little bitch with mommy and daddy issues and this and that and toby would just be like You fucking know what. Get the fuck out nina. (I DREW A COMIC OF THIS I WANNA REDRAW IT SOON). But nina will text toby and the convo sorta goes. “3: r u mad at meee” “ya” “v_v dont be mad…” “why” “cuz >_< i just bought pink lemonade Smirnoff and i got nobody 2 drink it with” “come over” then they dont actually dissect why they blew up on eachother. 

WHICH BRINGS ME TO YOUR LAST QUESTION ON CLOCKY…

She dgaf. Ok im joking. Im assuming you specified clocky so i can talk about if it upsets clocky.

She gets worried, actually. I dont want it to be interpreted as romantic jealousy, but she sees the way they connect on touch, being emotional, opening up, etc - meanwhile she’s sort of stuck in the middle of them and she struggles to open up, she bottles things up, she can be cold and quiet and distant. She’ll ignore their texts for days because she’s just not doing well and is trying to focus really hard on work(and her whole “getting better” thing), only to find out that instead of them harassing her like usual, they just hang out together and wait until she’s ready to reach out. And something about that irritates her. Cuz they were HER friends first 😒…LOL. But another part of her worry is the fact that they are both so emotional and they feed into eachother’s bad habits and is pretty blunt with telling them that.

BUT ASIDE FROM THAT!! She does love that her friends get along. It feels really good for her to have a close-knit group of friends who really care about her. Nina and toby will both make a shitty cake decorated in an ungodly amount of sprinkles and bring it to her. They’ll put her in a groupchat and blow it up with useless conversations. Theyll buy her concert tickets and make her come along. They get her out and are good for her in their own ways, even if theyre all very flawed. and she's not the type to give a shit about romantic jealousy

[flamingo-writes]

Pillow Talk — Hobie x Fem!Reader

Summary: set in the 70’s. After having a bad day, your best friend Hobie attempts and succeeds at turning your day around.

A/N: not proof read. This started as a vent fic bcs I was feeling ignored by the world. This turned out longer than expected. Fem!Reader, the only mention about the reader’s appearance, except at some point I mention the reader’s shirts fit Hobie, however, Hobie is a very tall dude, but he’s also very thin. I wrote this keeping an average sized reader in mind (my bf is as tall as Hobie, not as skinny, and my medium sized shirts fit him very short, so the reader could be even be larger than average sized)

Genre: fluff, plotless fluff!! Friends to lovers expect the lovers part didn’t make it to the fic. I might write a sequel, but I also might not. I need ideas and inspiration.

Warnings: not proof read, idk if I wrote curse words or not…other than that I’d say anxiety and

Word count: 2.9K

The tapping of that rain on the glass was a good company to your music. Slow lullabies, that fitted your current mood, matching the weather outside. As you lied on your bed, your face towards the wall besides your bed as you wished for the day to be over.

It was one of those days, in which the world seemed too loud, too overwhelming. It was almost as if you were invisible that day. No one listened to anything you had to say, everyone seemed to actively ignore you, even one of your friends snapped at you over what you considered to be nothing and kept blaming yourself for that even when it wasn’t something that serious to begin with. Today was a very busy day at the coffee bar, you were truly exhausted and wanted nothing but to go to sleep and wait for the day to end. Although falling asleep had resulted to be an impossible task.

So you listened to music instead. The rain helping set the mood. You wanted to stop existing for a while and even stop thinking. Ignoring the phone ringing a couple of times. Even ignoring the loud growl of your stomach as you had absolutely no energy to do anything.

You heard the window sliding open, immediately knowing who it was. You lived on the 8th floor of a rather stinky flat building. And only one person insisted on using windows rather than the normal main door.

“Shite, tryna give me a heart attack?” He said at once. “Thanks for picking up by the way,” He said sarcastically as he took off his boots and started pacing around your room like it was his, making himself to the bathroom where the first aid kit was as he kept on rambling.

“Thought you were either still at work or out with friends or whatever, you know, after you very kindly didn’t pick up your phone, ey?” He said. “Came ‘ere to patch myself up, after I tried calling thinking there wasn’t anyone home. You’ve got the nice gauzes, tell your mother thanks for me one of these days, for being a nurse and letting you sneak this things out of the hospital for ya,”

The entire time he was talking there was no reply. No sassy comeback to his sarcasm. No playfully following along his comments. Nothing. Just silence.

But you were awake.

Hobie knew you were awake. He’d heard your breathing and heart rate when you slept countless times before, and from your current breathing and heartbeat now, he knew you were awake. You’d be known to fall asleep with loud punk music on, but even then, you’d were awake.

“Did you hear me?” He asked frowning softly as he knew something by was up.

“Arrived from work a couple of hours ago. No, I didn’t pick up the phone. Yea they are nice gauzes. Yes I’ll say thanks to my mom, especially for not asking questions when I ask her if I can take gauzes and sutures and occasional antibiotics,” you replied dryly, dragging your tongue the way you usually do when you’re either tired or stressed.

“You a’ight?” He said walking towards your bed, reluctant to sit on it as he would’ve liked. As his trousers were a mess and he wasn’t sure if his wound was still bleeding or not.

“No,” You sighed.

“What happened?”

“Eh,” He saw you shrug, even amidst the dark room consumed by night, only the streetlights filtering through your window.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked, his voice softening.

You were usually the annoyingly optimistic one. You were usually the one begging him to open up and to let things off his chest when something was bothering him.

“No, not really…” You sighed. “Perhaps later…Tomorrow even…”

“Is this usually how it’s like to deal with me when I’m in a mood? You’re not exactly helping me here,” He joked.

He felt some relief when he heard a single chuckle escape your chest. At least you still had your sense of humour there.

“No, not really. You’re more sarcastic when you’re mad, and it’s your sarcasm what usually helps me figure out what happened…”

“Then this is inherently harder…” He pointed out.

“Sorry about that,”

“Can I help you somehow?”

“If I’m being honest, I don’t know…” You sighed. “How do you deal with feeling invisible?”

That was the most he’d gotten out of you, and he raised an eyebrow.

“You feel invisible?” He asked softly.

“All day today I’ve felt invisible. No one listens to me, or cares for what I have to say. I’ve been trying to talk and people just cut me off mid sentence to say something completely unrelated…I think I broke up with Mark…”

That last bit took him by surprise. One thing was that you were just having a bad day, and then you mentioned an actual event, and a big one for that matter.

One that he’d been waiting to happen, but he always envisioned you to be raging when you did. Mark was…well, he was a man, for starters. Hobie insisted men ain’t shit —“even myself, luv, I don’t know why you let me be your friend in the first place” he’d say— the amount of self awareness Hobie had came from a rough childhood growing up homeless for the most part of his youth. Something Mark had the good luck not to experience. He was your usual entitled, misogynistic, stuck up wanker. He could afford you gifts and romantic dates every so often. But the times Hobie had seen you mad because of something Mark did outnumbered the amount of times you actually seemed happy to be with Mark.

And he couldn’t believe someone as sweet and smart as you could be with someone like him. Maybe Mark needed someone with a good amount of patience, because otherwise, Hobie couldn’t see how would someone keep up with his shit.

But you weren’t like anyone else he knew. You were perhaps the biggest softy he’d met, which was hilarious because you also called yourself a punk. And you helped him plan out his subversive actions, you helped him with his art pieces, you helped him a lot with indirect work. You never really took a stand and walked into the dangerous situations, but you were always there helping Hobie backstage, remaining anonymous and safe.

Hobie found endearing how sweet and gentle and patient you were for a punk. You took a lot of shit for yourself, but went absolutely insane when someone you cared for received the slightest unfair treatment. He found your fear of getting in trouble adorable, yet understandable. Things had been changing a lot for women recently, but things were still pretty much unfair.

Hobie could understand and respect that. He knew the disadvantage, and was well aware of the privileges that came with being a man. Sure, he was black, but he was still a man. He still had privileges women didn’t have. And not even from a legal standpoint. Even with his skin colour, society tended to respect him more than a woman regardless of her colour.

“Whoa, luv, hold up. What about Mark?” Hobie said.

“I think I’m going to break up with him next time I see him…” You sighed. “At some point I was feeling very bad at work, and I wanted some sort of comfort…During my break I called him…” You sighed softly as your eyes teared up, and Hobie could hear your voice break slightly.

“What did he say?” Hobie sighed, growing annoyed.

“At first he was being helpful. Actually listening. But then…I don’t know, I don’t know if I said something or how I said it, but I heard him sigh and say that he was sorry I was having a bad day but he was dealing with problems much bigger than mine and made some very passive aggressive comments about how he has a real job while I work at a coffee bar…And I hung up on him…” You said, swallowing the lump in your throat, as Hobie felt his own chest squeeze painfully.

“The only worse thing than being ignored, is being shamed for who you are…” You sighed, shutting your eyes closed to keep tears from falling. “I was having a bad day, the last thing I needed was to be scolded, you know?”

Hobie leaned over your bed, and kissed your head while running one of his large hands across your hair. “I’m so sorry, luv…” He whispered. “But good for you. Mark isn’t half the person you are, you deserve someone much better. Although, that might be a tad impossible because you deserve the entire world, and I don’t think there’s someone in the world actually worthy of you…” He said, his voice gentle and sweet, one of the very few instances in which Hobie wasn’t his usual self-satirical-theatrical punk he liked to be. He was capable of being very gentle and sweet.

You chuckled, keeping your eyes closed as you felt his lips burning through your skull in the nicest of ways.

“Hey, I’m all covered in blood and sweat and all those nice things,” He joked. “I’ll go take a quick shower and I’ll be right back with you, okay?”

“Yeah…Thanks, Hobie,”

“Just doing what I must, sweet’eart, don’t sweat it. Are you hungry by the way?” He said standing back up as he headed to your wardrobe.

He grabbed some sweatpants Mark had around, thinking Mark wouldn’t be needing them anymore. Plus, Hobie knew Mark wasn’t exactly fond of how close friends you two were. And Hobie usually wore some of the clothes Mark left at your place, knowing it would piss Mark off when his clothing smelled like your punk bestie rather than your normie boyfriend.

However, he took one of your shirts. His slim thin body actually allowed him to wear your shirts and fit him just perfectly. Perhaps a bit short on his long torso, but for that matter, rarely any shirt that fit his shoulders and chest fit his torso. And any shirt that fit his lengthy body was huge on his shoulders making him look ridiculous.

He took your Patti Smith shirt from the concert you’d gone to just a few months back. He’d gone with you and had actually fallen in love with her and her work. He’d listened to a few of Patti’s tracks, and he considered himself a casual enjoyer and it wasn’t until you dragged him with you to the concert that he became a big fan.

“A bit, actually…” You lied, feeling the pit of your stomach threatening to digest itself if you didn’t eat anything soon.

“Okay, how about this,” He began confidently. “After I shower, we’re gonna go to the new place that opened just around the corner…” He suggested. “Dinner’s on me. And I’ll make up for the bad day you’ve been having, how about that?” He asked as he walked back towards your bed and ruffled your hair playfully.

“I want to be a little ball of suffering and tears,” You whined, chilling softly.

“That’s a bunch of shite and you know it. Come on, wash that pretty little face of yours and get ready, we’re leaving as soon as I’m done,” He said and walked back to your wardrobe, grabbing a towel and heading to the bathroom.

You chuckled and sat up on the bed, watching him close the bathroom door as you sighed deeply and stood up, heading to the kitchen, taking a large glass of water.

At times like this you were absolutely grateful for having someone like Hobie. No, not someone like him. But having Hobie as your best friend. He was the absolute best friend someone could have. The amount of times he looked out for her more than anyone else, really. More than Mark, more than your friends, more than your own parents.

You washed your face on the kitchen sink and by the time Hobie was out of the shower. Smelling like your body lotion and even your shampoo, his scent was still predominantly there. However to Hobie, all he could smell was that comforting and familiar scent of home.

As you heard him walk out, you headed to the living room where you found him pacing around in black sweats and your Patti Smith shirt.

"Hey, that’s mine," you whined playfully as you walked up to him and tugged on the shirt gently.

"Was" he corrected.

"No, fuck off!” You complained with a gentle laugh as you gently pinched his tummy. "You have your own Patti shirt! This is mine!” I complained like a little kid.

"If you want me to undress you just have to say so," he chuckled as he gave you a cheeky smirk and you pinched his tummy again. "Ow!” He giggled softly and rubbed his stomach where your fingers had been. "C’mon, let’s go get food, I’m famished,"

After dinner and getting back to your apartment, the two of you decided to "watch" movies. You weren’t really watching, you were talking back and forth, sometimes about the movie, sometimes about other things.

You were snuggled right besides him. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, keeping you close to him. His tough keeping you warm, fat more than the blanket over both your laps.

You eventually fell asleep on the couch. His arms around you and you comfortably nuzzling your face against his chest. Despite the couch being too small, you slept comfortably at least until well into the night. You woke up softly sometime after 3 am. Groggy and still in a sleepy haze.

“Hobie?” You murmured.

“Hm?” He replied deeply asleep.

“We fell asleep on the couch…” You yawned.

“Hm,”

“C’mon, we’re going to be more comfortable in bed…” you murmured and tugged on his arm as you clumsily got up and turned off the tv.

“Hm…”

Still somewhat asleep, he stood up and followed you into your room, holding on to your hand as you guided him towards the bed.

As he collapsed on the bed, you followed him and lied down besides him. As soon as you lied down besides him, Hobie pulled you into his embrace. Too asleep to realise what he was doing. You giggled.

“You’re pretty cuddly when you’re sleepy…”

“It’s a you effect…” He mumbled, dragging his tongue as he was mostly asleep. “You make me all mushy…”

Your cheeks blushed as you looked at him. His eyes closed and face relaxed, as you thought perhaps he wasn't going to remember this conversation tomorrow.

“How come?” You asked curiously as your heart raced and suddenly you weren’t sleepy whatsoever.

He shrugged. “You’re the nicest, cutest, bestest person I know, how could I not?” He mumbled.

“Hobie?”

“Hm?”

“Do you have feelings for me?”

“You just noticed?” He scoffed softly as he flashed you a confident smile, his eyes still closed.

“I…yes…”

“Huh,” He chuckled softly. “You’re so cute…”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because we’re friends and I’ve always been scared to—“ his tongue started dragging more and more, as his words soon became incomprehensible and soon he was deeply asleep.

It took you a long while to fall back asleep. Hobie’s sleepy love confession kept you awake as you kept going on and on inside your thoughts as suddenly his gentle and over protective nature towards you made sense.

He was naturally protective of those he cared for. He assumed the role of older brother. But with you it was different. While Hobie hated to be told what to do, and he always made a point to remind people about it. Not you. He always made some joke, but never complained.

Hobie wasn’t a morning person. I’m fact, he hated them. You on the other hand, always woke up at a decent time. Never after nine, but never before eight. A reasonable hour. You killed time reading, waiting for Hobie to wake up. For no particular reason, you simply felt like waiting for him to wake up. Besides, your shift at the coffee bar didn’t start until five that afternoon.

“Hey…” Hobie murmured, catching you off guard as you put down your book and looked at Hobie.

“Morning, you…”

“Morning, luv…”

You looked at him with a sweet and tender smile, remembering the conversation you two had last night. A conversation you knew he had no recollection of. It felt like having a secret between you two, a secret Hobie ignored, but still one you two shared.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He purred.

“No reason…” You chuckled and snuggled against him, hugging him.

Hobie’s heart skipped a beat as his eyes widened. He wondered what exactly was going on, but knew better than to question it and hugged you back.

“You’re weird sometimes…” He chuckled and pressed a sweet kiss on the top of your head.

“But you like me this way…” You murmured, taking in a big breath, feeling your lungs fill with his scent.

“Perhaps,” He chuckled and rested his cheek on your head.

[slaingelo]

HOLY SHIT HERE WE GO !!!! somewhat world building dump as the prologue.

Chapter one will be longer and in parts, and will involve exploring Link's current life, more world building, and also !! HIS DAD !!

more rambling below;

So in case it wasn't obvious the whole "you'll die if the gem is broken" isn't TECHNICALLY true. no one's ever actually had the gem break while bound to it, so the thought that you'll die is just an assumption based on like... well. YOUR SOUL IS IN THAT. and it's been passed down as fact rather than theory.

the gem will get broken at the end of chapter one, leading to Link's soul being torn into four pieces. This technically kills Link which is why I do want to spend time going over his current place in life in chapter 1 before the DeathTM :3

also worth noting; they're young adults ! Link has no plans to go to college and is kind of a mess right now, Zelda rather than being any kind of princess is from a family with spiritual importance- ofc being taking care of the force gem. it's been a while since a hero had to be chosen !!

also, all the maidens are being given actual names, chosen after gemstones instead of colours because like,,, I mean, blue maiden is the most important one here, I can't really call her Blue lol.

I DUNNO HOW FAST UPDATES WILL BE, I wanna be careful to not burn myself out, so we'll see how it goes :3 I might post 3 or so pages at once per update instead of 9 each time aha;;

I hope this is interesting !! I'm really excited to tell the story I wrote for this AU and I hope you guys will enjoy the ride <3

consider this some exposition combined with experimenting with the comic process because this is the first time I've actually finished a comic that's longer than 1 page and it probably shows. I'll be forced to make it more interesting once I get to the action stuff don't worry XD I'll try to get better at making the talking stuff look interesting over time .. AND YOU CAN SEE HOW INCONSISTENT MY ART IS WAAH.

I ended up changing line thickness after 3 pages bc I realised I was going too thin and I was never going to finish it if I kept w/ it because I haaate doing thin lineart...

[gleefullypolin]

Stacy's tipsy ramblings about season 3:

I have thoughts...and I've had a bad Friday sooooo....here we go.

Do I want Pen to write as LW past S3? Yes and No. Fantasy Stacy wanted Colin and Pen to be Lord and Lady Whistledown spitting truth across the ton to all who needed to hear it. Reality Stacy wants her to have a true career and write a real novel as Penelope Bridgerton where she has her own success and Colin has his.

How are we feeling about the Ben storyline? zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz Sorry.....was asleep. Wake me when we give him something to actually do.

Do we feel sorry for Cressida and want to see her arc redeemed by the end of Season 3? Nope. Every story needs a villain and I'm perfectly fine to see this one drown.

Do I enjoy John and Fran? No. Their story is not exciting for me. Sorry. Nothing against them, I'm just not enjoying it, personal opinion simply my own. I'm sure others might be in the same boat but unlikely to voice that opinion and that's fine as well. Again. Personal opinion and nothing against them. Just how I feel.

Should Colin forgive Pen so quickly in Part 2? Duh. It's a gossip column. I'm sorry that she wrote some honest things that cut close to the vest for people. She didn't lie. She tried to talk to these people over and over and over again and NO ONE listens to her. Colin patted her on the head like a puppy...."Pen you are so good" when she tried to warn him and she saved his ass from twins. Soooo, yeah. Let him feel his feels but honestly, lets move on.

Do you feel like Colin's character is OOC and the brothels are unnecessary? Nope, he came back as the person society expects him to be. Just as he said. He tried to fit with the Lord Douche Brigade and went about his business. The only time he was himself was with Pen. The whole point of that was to see the difference. Brothel mess and all and I was good with that. Clutch your pearls when you want to complain about his brothers having threesomes and fucking in public against trees.

Is Pen trapping Colin by not telling him right away about LW? Girl just got all her dreams converging into one. Confessions of love and fingering all in one. Then thrown into a family marriage proposal, immediately blackmailed by Eloise to confess, Cressida taking all her life's work credit from her, the Queen hunting her down. She's 20 years old. Image the pressure. Not only that but she gets the one thing she's been coveting since she watched him fall off a horse and now it could fall to dust. El already showed her what could happen by telling that secret and she was the love of her life. No one gave her a chance to breathe much less think of what these repercussions could mean. Either way, mistakes were made, but not unforgiveable, and nothing she would not have allowed him out of. When you allow someone the chance to remove themselves, it is not a trap. Point. Blank. Period.

Is the season rushed? I don't know, I've only watched four fucking episodes. Have you watched more than me? Please tell me where to watch the other 4, I'll pay!

Am I an asshole? Nah, just had a bit to drink, did you not read the top part...ok show time over! Before I really tell you how I feel!!

[puertoark]

useless bully ramblings

ok i finished chapter 5 and i sooo dont wanted it to end but also i was eager to see the story coming to its finales. chapter 5 and chapter 3 are definitely my favorites aswell as the townies have became my favorite clique alongside the greasers. you see, the greasers have their own traits and personalities ofc but the townies are really diverse on that regard - they bond over their hatred for bullworth and the injustice they suffered in that school. they live on the poorest part of the town so I can assume that those we don't know why they left (Omar and Leon) could be for the same reason as Edgar. they couldn't afford the fuckass school. God I actually love their little traits sm. Otto and his anger/negativity issues that are obviously harmful to him and others around him, Jerry and the obvious insecurity he has towards his inteligence, Gurney and his passion for music, Duncan and his nerdy cute hobbies that got him to drop out of school due to bullying.. etc etc simple stuff these like always that makes us think abt great things. I even wrote a whole ass post about my personal headcanons on them some years ago on my dead nuked account (might try to find it later). Anyway.

I like their storyline really, their missions when theyre messing up w the school are great, Revenge on Mr Burton, Smash it Up, Busting In etc are all really fun missions, Blue Skies is a great setting and their theme is awesome!!! Altho I do wish Edgar was more used... sigh ik I sound boring and lame af when I say stuff like that but cmon Rockstar had top tier character material and simply didn't use it. I get angry for Ted and Edgar in this regard bc I LIKE THEM and I wanted to see MORE OF THEM. This could easily be like less worse if they were set to appear in free roam during endless summer but nah. he's a awesome character anyway I really do like him.

And then there's Complete Mayhem. Well, one epic ass final mission that I do get angry at knowing what it could've been with the beta but nonetheless I love this mission!!! And the final confront with Gary oh how I love doomed lovers barking at each other at the top of a roof, and then the ending comes, Zoe gets back to school (I wish other townies(Duncan at the very least) also did) Pete gets to be the head boy yayyyy and bullying is over forever and ever except that theres UNLOCKABLES that I didn't UNLOCK so endless summer here I come.. with more bullying ig sighhhhhh... eventually.

oh and best part about finishing the game Pedro isnt rude to me anymore 😁

[the-travelling-witch]

i originally wrote this when gushing to someone about my love for keishin but i thought i might as well post it here now that it's already been brought into existence

We can all agree that Ukai Keishin is the best coach Karasuno could have asked for and in this essay I will rekindle my undying love for him by rambling about why that is.

First of all Ukai “I’m not interested in being a coach” Keishin adapted the time of his shifts at the store as well as woke up at the asscrack of dawn to help on his family’s farm, so he could coach these kids, which we see is quite exhausting for him as Takeda (our hero) asks him about it. It’s pretty easy to assume that you would not go to that length if you did not care about these students. 

Keishin also got the Neighbourhood Association on board, initially as practice partners but indirectly introducing some very loyal supporters to the team (seriously these guys watch every match, even if they have to rush to the gym from their jobs), as well as opportunities to learn something new (think Yamaguchi’s float serve).

As a very young coach, Keishin might not be the most experienced at teaching but he makes up for it easily by being able to relate to his players, putting himself in their shoes and acknowledging that not every practice method works for everyone. We also see that the players don’t hesitate to approach him, like Hinata does during the Shiratorizawa training camp. When he calls his coach -well outside of practice hours mind you- Ukai firstly does not reprimand him for it but also gladly helps Hinata with the questions he has around building a balanced diet, since he knows it will help his players grow.

Sure, being able to empathise with the students is not always a good thing as a coach, as we see when he hesitated between choosing Kageyama or Suga for the setter position in season 1, projecting his own feelings onto Suga. But after Suga approaches him, he listens to what he has to say and compliments him for making such a tough decision.

Similarly, when Hinata first brought up the idea of changing up the quick, Ukai was against it too, but after listening to Hinata felt, he decided to trust in his players and try a few different practice methods, even going so far as to separate the two and introduce Hinata to his grandpa. I don’t think any coach would have taken the risk of changing up a useful attack if it wasn’t clear that whatever they’d practise for would pay off.

The summer training camp is a good example for the healthy mindset Keishin tries to impart on his students. Over the course of the whole show, he shows that learning and growing means more to him than winning. Mistakes, failures and losses are all part of the progress to him as long as you can take something away from them for the future. I don’t think Karasuno would have picked themselves up as well or as fast from the Aoba Johsai loss in season 1 if they didn’t have Coach Ukai.I also really love his mentality around food and that you need to eat plenty of good stuff to replenish your energy and give your body the fuel it needs. Also treats his teams to meals regardless of the outcome of a match.

Overall, Keishin is much more encouraging rather than reprimanding. He will obviously tell them off when they mess up, it’s not like he coddles the kids, but he always makes sure to compliment them or nudge them in the right direction. Sure, he lets Hinata know that breaking into the Shiratorizawa camp was a reckless idea but also tips him off on how he can capitalise off the opportunity. Another great moment happens after Kageyama comes back from Youth camp and a fight breaks out as he returns to being the egocentric king for a moment. Takeda asks if they should step in but Ukai tells him that it’s necessary for them to communicate and sort out themselves. Knowing not to step in at that moment leads to Kageyama learning a lesson without which I don’t think they could have won against Inarizaki (and which would have left him lacking in the grand scheme of professional volleyball later on, I suppose).

Also, side note, despite the bleached hair and him saying he never was a model student to Hinata, we see him take out his piercings while he’s coaching and also see that he went back to his natural hair colour post timeskip (plus he still coaches Karasuno then, he clearly loves this job). Sure you could say he takes them out for safety reasons but I’m not sure he’d be the type to care much for that (I know I’ve never taken out or taped over my piercings) but even so, look at him being a good role model. (Not saying piercings and bleached hair are bad, I love them…. But sOcIeTy /lh)

There are of course many more great scenes I could get into for Keishin (since every scene he’s in is great) but I think these are like the major aspects that make me love him so much. We see that he goes to great lengths to support his students, be it through advice, getting video recordings of opponents and analysing them or working out the best practice strategies together with his students. Yes he’s new to being a coach but together with Takeda, I don’t know if Karasuno could have had a coach which fits in better with them than Ukai Keishin.

[mrhaitch]

Hello Mr. Haitch I hope you are having a great and healthy day. Sorry for bothering you on a sunday. How are you and your family doing? If you ask me I'm doing great apart from dealing with classes as a first-year uni student.

It's my first time asking a question to someone on the internet so I'm really nervous, I hope I will be able to explain myself properly.

So... I'm currently rewriting a story that I had wrote as a project in 10th grade. I decided to work on it after it got published by the ministry of education under a project named Young Writers. And I have been struggling with correcting and reshaping some parts so I wanted to ask for some help and some opinions on this from someone knowledgeable.

I don't know if anyone asked this before and if they did sorry for asking again. Can you please give me some ideas as to how I can continue, the basic ideas of my story and the main characters are pretty much shaped in my mind but I'm having a hard time putting those into the old story as it was written a long time ago.

Should I write those down and restart from the beginning or follow a different route? (This might sound like I'm giving the advices to myself but I seriously don't know what to do ಥ⁠_⁠ಥ)

I want to translate the work when it's a few chapters ahead as it would also help with my studies on translation but since I can't write crap it's gotten really messed up🥲

Can you please help this crumbling soul with your sacred knowledge?

(Sorry if the ask is too long but I wanted to explain my struggle thoroughly and English is not my first language so sometimes it's hard to explain myself with few words.)

(Here I go rambling again😓)

Thank you so much in advance (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

Yeah, we're doing well considering all the drama last night.

First of all, congratulations! That is a significant achievement and you should feel proud.

As for the meat of your question: I've had this problem before. Usually when I start a story I have the barest of outlines or direction in my head, but what I do have are a couple of characters, a vibe, and an opening sentence. By the time the first draft is over the story is wildly different and the tone is often wildly uneven. This was definitely the case with the first novel I wrote.

If the changes you want to make are significant there's a few things you can do. Listed below are a handful of things you can try:

1. Write it again

2. Break the story down into key scenes, summarise them on cards, and line them up in chronological order. Do the same for your new scenes and ideas, and physically play around with different orders and structures. Move scene five to scene three, add a couple of new scenes where scene five was and see if it tracks - that kind of thing.

3. Strip your story down to its key elements and beats: the scenes that are 100% integral, and copy them to a new document. Then do something similar to the previous method and play around with slotting things in and moving things around.

If a significant amount of time has passed since you first wrote the story, I'd start it again. In fact - I'd write it from scratch without looking at the old version, and see what parts of the original stuck and what fell away. You'll get an idea, then, of the story's core.

The key thing is that, whatever you decide, you see it through to the end. Even if it doesn't work you'll have learned a lot.

Best of luck.

[milevenstancyendgame]

Okay, I quickly wrote this, before the adrenaline from the new ST photos subsides.😁

First part of a short Stancy fic, completely based on s5 speculations around some hospital drama.🏥❤️‍🩹

Haven't decided on the rating of the whole thing yet.😏 But for this part, I guess it's K+. Just has some mention of blood/an injury, nothing graphic.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Nancy sighed, not really focusing on what she was doing (sorting files).

She had signed up as a candy striper after the first attacks on people by creatures from the Upside Down. They needed all the help they could get at the hospital.

But it wasn't like she could do anything really significant. She was aware of this, no matter how often some of the staff thanked her for volunteering (others were more of the Hawkins Post breed and treated her like a sub-human).

She stifled a yawn - getting up early was no problem for her, but it was undeniably a very dull morning. She didn't know how she was supposed to hold out until the early afternoon.

The sudden noise of an ambulance and slamming doors made her look up in surprise. Oh no.

There was a commotion at the emergency entry, so it was impossible to see what was going on, but no doubt it was another attack victim being brought in.

Her heart was racing and as always she longed to do something to help, but she knew from experience not to get in the way.

She was about to pick up the box of files and carry it to a different room, when she spotted a mess of dark blonde hair, and the distinctive rambling of Robin reached her ears.

"…. And I have no idea how many there were, or if it was only bats, might have been a demogo- I, I mean one of those larger things thrown into the mix as well!"

Nancy's stomach filled with ice. If Robin was here, then who…?

She got up abruptly, running over to the group of people, trying hard not to think…not Holly, not Mike…please…

But then one of the doctors moved aside and she saw him: Steve was lying there, unconscious, his shirt had been removed and was currently being used to be pressed against his side, soaked with blood.

She stopped dead at the sight.

"Nancy!" Robin had spotted her.

The sound of her name made her snap out of it - in an instant, she was at Robin's side, gripping Steve's shoulder protectively.

It was a completely instinctive action, no thoughts attached.

No one payed her much attention as she ran along to the emergency room, only when she followed inside, did one of the nurses stop her.

"I'm his-" She started to protest, outraged. But then she didn't know how to finish the sentence. "Friend," she finished lamely.

"Sorry dear, only family. You know the rules."

Robin put a hand on her shoulder as the doors flung shut in front of them.

An unbearable sense of powerlessness hit Nancy like a wave - she had to escape!

"What happened?"

"We were on patrol…" Robin looked around frantically to see if there was anyone in earshot. "You know, by the gate at the cemetery. And just before sunrise…it was like an explosion, Nance! Monsters everywhere, we couldn't get to the car fast enough and…and…"

She broke down, starting to sob uncontrollably.

Nancy rubbed her friend's back, a flashback of what she had seen in Vecna's vision back in '85 hijacking her mind. Monsters everywhere…

"Did anyone else…?"

"No…just Steve. Dustin was with us, he couldn't keep up, so Steve…he…"

Nancy's jaw clenched. She didn't need to hear the rest to know what had happened.

"Somebody's gotta go down and check this out. It's gotta be me. No complaints."

His words echoed in her head, reminding her of the last time he had been attacked by demobats.

"Where's Dustin?" She clung to the questions - anything to keep herself talking and away from thinking.

"He was a mess," Robin sniffed. "Must have reminded him of…you know…To be honest, I didn't give him much of a choice…thought it was better for him to stay and tell the others…" She shrugged. "He'll probably come bursting in on a bike any moment now."

Nancy never felt less like laughing. What else could she say?

"Okay, it's okay," she repeated mechanically to Robin, whose tears didn't seem to want to stop. She was glad, it gave her something to focus on, something to do.

She didn't know how much time passed like this, but suddenly the doors swung open again, startling both of them.

"It's okay," the nurse from earlier told them. "No vital organs hurt, just a lot of blood loss…it's stopped bleeding now. We'll transfer him to a room."

Robin looked like that was entirely too much information.

Nancy sighed a very different sigh than the one from earlier this morning. God, she would never complain about boredom ever again.

"He needs rest now." The nurse held her back again, as she made to rush to Steve's side.

Nancy narrowed her eyes, ready to argue, but then she changed her mind.

"Please, we just want to…" Robin started before Nancy interrupted her.

"She's right, Robin. He'll be okay."

Robin stared at her, incredulous.

"Is there anything you need, nurse Watkins?" Nancy asked sweetly.

"Not for the moment, dear. You can return to your chores." And with that, she was gone.

"I swear to god, Nancy-"

"Robin. Let me show you around and have a look at my work." She grabbed Robin's arm and dragged her over to the main desk, where her box with files still waited - as if her world had not been turned upside down.

Robin's face was a question mark, but she followed along, having learnt to trust Nancy's hunches and intuition.

Nancy sat down and started telling her friend all about the art of ordering files, seemingly not paying any attention to what was going on around her.

Although she was clearly impatient, Robin tried to play along, asking her nonsensical, dumb questions, waiting for god knew what.

Nurses came and went, picking things up and bringing them back. Robin paid no heed to it, but after one of them left, Nancy quickly grabbed a book, opened it, and closed it so quickly, that Robin felt dizzy from just watching her.

"Room 315," Nancy hissed between gritted teeth. Then she got up. "Come on, Robin - I need to deliver some flowers, would you help me?"

As they went to the flower shop, it dawned on Robin.

"Nancy, you're a genius! With a capital G!"

Nancy smiled, appreciating the compliment despite of the situation. They picked random bouquets and rushed back to the hospital as quickly as possible, without trying to look like they were in a hurry.

"315…315…" Robin muttered, as they went down the corridor. "Aha!"

They quickly stole into the small room, both stopping at the sight of Steve lying in bed, still unconscious.

There was entirely too much white for Nancy's liking. White bed, white hospital gown, white face. Lying in the morning light streaming in from the windows, he looked as pale as a ghost.

She willed herself to move forward, placing the flowers on the bedside. Before she could think twice, her hand was cupping his cheek gently.

"Steve Harrington, you idiot," she whispered. "You're going to get through this, do you hear me?"

He did not react, of course not. Still, she felt somehow disappointed. As if she really had expected her presence to work some sort of healing magic on him. She blushed, feeling presumptuous.

Robin had moved to the other side of the bed and took his hand.

"Dingus, you heard her. You'd better wake up soon."

She turned to Nancy. "Do you think we can bully him into waking up?"

Nancy gave her a weak smile before looking back down at Steve. She felt like the stitches that had held her heart together until now had become undone, one by one. She had been running away for so long, she had forgotten what it was like to stand still, to be present. But now there was no more escaping it. Her feelings could not be hidden away any more, they were swirling inside of her, all around her, like a swarm of butterflies.

Strangely, she did not feel afraid of them. The only fear that clenched her heart, was that it might be too late…

[oneluckydragon]

GODDDDDD.. I SAW THE TAGS THAT YOU LEFT ON MY POSTS AND I AGREE WITH YOU SO MUCH.

Erida and Echo are such an interesting duo and honestly I can see Erida having even bigger of a struggle in trying to approach Echo first. Mainly because she's most definitely aware that her behavior and mannerisms resemble too much of Dusknoir's and if she were to ever find out about what the guy did to Echo and Sora.. yeah she'll be extremely careful when approaching out of fear to not set off any alarms (because it's already enough that someone she resembles who was nice turned out to be evil, what's stopping her from just ending up like him?). But once she regains her memories of her past life and finds out about Echo's origins as well? she'll be so worried for her. even when they both hailed from different worlds and acted differently, Erida will at least try to comfort Echo in her eternal self-struggle with her past, be it by trying to comfort her or at least be the shoulder she has to lay on when things get rough emotionally. She won't try to be pushy about it but she'll let Echo know that she isn't alone in her struggles and that Erida is just one call away if she ever needs her.

AND GAIA AND SORA.. don't even get me started.

I think what truly separates between Gaia and Erida and their backstories is that whereas Erida had her memories screwed over twice and didn't find out about who she was until later on, Gaia was aware of who she was/is on day 1. From the moment she landed on the Grass Continent, she knew what she was and what she hailed from, but masked her feelings about it and just saw everything that had happened as a second chance for a better life. And while she would absolutely love Sora just as much, her aura sensing abilities would scare Gaia a bit because a part of her tells her that the whole reason people treated her a bit nasty is because parts of her past life and soul just flared like an aura that set them off and told them exactly what they had to know about her, even if shes redeemed. but for Sora to know all of that and tolerate Gaia, and even go as far as ENJOYING her company??? that little claydol would cry tears of joy (if she had tear ducts, that is.). Just the idea of having a friend and someone who wants her around besides Erida is so foriegn to her that she might even doubt a bit and think that her chain is getting yanked. but once she knows it's legit, you bet that she'll levitate all happily around and be just as happy as Sora is.

they all mean so much to me... (sorry if i rambled too hard in your askbox... your girlies have taken a part in my head as well so the feeling is mutual.)

s1nn0hh OH MY GOD. I love your girlies. I love them SO much. The fact I wrote out all those tags and spammed you so much and you STILL took the time to respond with this!! I am unwell!!!

Erida being the one to struggle even more than Echo in the first stages of their friendship messes me up (Erida being so kind and patient and gentle because she's working on her own self-image and perception and AUGH I love her).

Echo is pretty bold so I can definitely see her warming up to Erida first despite the fact that Erida resembling Dusknoir so much brings back some harsh memories. But Echo could care less though. Erida is not Dusknoir and so she has nothing to do with those unfortunate experiences. And the idea of these two girlies being friends and UNDERSTANDING each other makes me unhinged. And Echo is so ferocious when it comes to protecting those she cares about (she will NOT lose another friend, she'll use her abilities to shelter the ones she loves) so if anyone even LOOKED at Erida cross-eyed once they're friends Echo would tear them apart.

(I am now thinking of a cute idea that when Echo and Erida laugh or feel happy together their gold rings glow in sync and light up and it's the most adorable thing I've ever considered in my entire life). They're like... nightlight besties. I love that for them.

And Gaia and Sora! I talked about this already but you agreeing that Gaia would adore Sora too once she realized that Sora genuinely likes her and enjoys having her around is!!! THE BEST!!! THING!!!

Sora would be so enamored with Gaia I am TELLING you. She is the type to write out letters to friends just to update them on even the most menial, but sweet things. Like flowers she saw that day which reminded her of Gaia's coloring. Or good food that she had and it made her think of happy memories w/ her friends. Or something like, "Gaia! Today, Echo and I visited Shaymin Peak. While climbing I picked up a little trinket called a Sky Gift and the Shaymin tell me that it's an item meant to be shared with those you care deeply about, otherwise the item inside will cease to exist when opened. Of course I thought of you! I hope it ends up being something worthwhile. Write to me soon!" (and the item ends up being a friend bow!!)

I'm sorry I'm just emotional over the idea of Gaia doubting Sora's friendship with her (because surely Sora /knows/ something is wrong with her, she can sense aura and thus Sora should fear her) but then a SKY GIFT manifests an item symbolizing their bond w/ each other and it's a FRIEND BOW. If that isn't the most literal "Sora adores you" moment in the world, then I don't know what else is.

To sum it up, Sora loves with her entire heart and she'd make no exceptions for Gaia. I want them to hang out all the time. I will not take criticism. c:

[fuck-you-upmusicbracket]

Father's Lament (Poor Man's Poison)

I've played the part, and I've played the fool, and I been used/And I let them get the best of me, but it was all for you/For what it's worth I never meant you any pain/Just so you know I love you both just the same

"This song is the story of a man who has two sons with two different women. It's not clear if it's because he was unfaithful or had two marriages, but it is clear his both lovers resent him and feel betrayed. He still loves his sons equally, regardless of how they were born. More then anything he regrets that what he did has fractured both halves of his family and promises both boys that he will do what he can to make it up to them, however he can. I'm not even listening to it but I'm getting choked up rn so I'd say it messes me up (in such a good way) Also the instrumental is just so soft and sorrowful, it's amazing . s for projecting it onto blorbos, I imagine an AU where the villain (who canonically loses two of his three children) acknowledges that he ruined his surviving son's life and tries to make up while the younger two's ghosts are hanging around as (what's assumed to be) hallucinations"

I/Me/Myself (Will Wood)

I wish I could be a girl, and that way/You'd wish I could be your girlfriend, boyfriend/Am I pretty enough to love back?/No not yet/I wish I could be a girl, and really/I'd prefer it if you would use I/Me/MyselfAm I pretty enough, am I pretty enough to fucking die?

"Do you KNOW what the line “I am quantum physics, my witness brings me into existence” has DONE to me. to my psyche. because it’s like. okay so I’m so sorry if you know all of this already but in quantum physics theres something called the observer effect, where if you you measure something, it affects it. Like by checking tyre pressure, you have to let some air out, so you can’t physically measure it without changing what you’re measuring. in normal day to day life (like the tyre) this doesn’t really matter, because the effect is so small that you can basically ignore it. but quantum physics deals with really REALLY small shit so every single effect matters. Basically. observation of an object changes it’s state. this line is about acceptance. the euphoria of someone calling you by your preferred pronouns or chosen name. observation changing your state. It might seem small to others- someone who’s never been misgendered in their life it’s not even something that would occur to them, but to a trans/nb person who’s being observed, being SEEN? it’s everything. AND THE SHEER PUNCH OF “say my name like a slur, but I’ve been called worse” like. FUCK. oaky I think I’ve rambled enough about One Entire Line so lemme just wrap this up by saying that Will Wood is a cis man who ID’ as genderqueer for a while before realising that he wasn’t, he just had some internalised shit about being gnc and not traditionally masculine to work through, so he wrote this song about his frustrations with gender in general and about how clinging to an identity that didn’t fit him can hurt you"