#I'M FINALLY DONE IT'S 5AM

[beck-a-leck]

I can't sleep, so I'm gonna ramble for a bit about an AU that's been entertaining me recently.

Lord of the Rings Summer Camp AU

Basically the War for the Ring is just one Extremely Intense game of capture the flag (ring) that happens every summer between two rival summer camps that share a lake or something.

Like, basic rules: Each camp designates one camper to be the Ring Bearer. They must keep the ring on them at all times. They cannot pass the ring off to another camper, except under special circumstances, or to a councilor. Their job is to find a way to get the ring to the other camp and put it in the designated place without getting caught or losing the ring. If they succeed by the end of camp, they win! If the other camp steals the ring and gets it to their rival's designated spot then they win. Rival camp councelors are allowed to take the ring if they can get it away from the bearer, but it must be given to their own team's Ring Bearer. Secrecy is often the key to success in this matter.

And now the cast:

Frodo, Sam, Merey, and Pippin: four new campers this year. They all grew up on stories of from Uncle Bilbo about his fun times at camp, and now they're old enough to go and super ready for their first time at camp! Frodo gets designated Ring Bearer (definitely not a rigged choice)

Gandalf: Nobody's quite sure if he owns the camp or he's like the Head Councilor. Sometimes he's actively engaged in camp activities, other times he's off doing Old Man Shit. Very frequently can be found chilling with Bilbo as they watch the game unfold

Aragorn: he's one of the camp legacy kids. Been coming every summer since he was little (his sorta-dad works there) and now that he's old enough he's become one of the Junior Councilors. Aka the almost-adult they trust to run the kids around and supervise them in the woods and during Ring Shenanigans

Boromir and Faramir: their first summer at camp. Boromir's Aragorn's age and also a Junior Councilor. For whatever reason he's got beef with Aragorn and totally deals woth it in a healthy way. Faramir's just under the age cut off for Camper vs Councilor. (He didn't even want to come but their dad said he had to) and he spends most of his time chilling with the other guys around his age and also at the stables.

Legolas: sent here because his dad thought a summer away from home would be good for him and also he should see his cousin (arwen) more and his paperwork was half-done (a d daddy's off to europe for a month byeeeee) so nobody's quite sure how old he is, so sometimes they think he's a camper and other times he's a junior councilor and he just kind of rolls with it off the vibes of the day. (So he's definitely not telling his birth date)

Gimli: an older camper, but his first time at camp. For some reason he immediately imprints on the four teenies (the hobbits) and decides he's just gonna tag along with their group during camp. Couldn't possibly be because Aragorn and Boromir are their councilors and Legolas tags along after Aragorn.

(The chaos in this camp drives Elrond Bananas, but Gandalf just kinda shrugs and always counters with 'the kids are having fun. There's no harm in it')

Arwen and Eowyn: its not a co-ed camp, but their dads are both staff members so guess where they're spending their summers. As the only two girls, they became friends out of necessity. Elrond maybe actually owns the camp? He's at keast the guy keeping things organized and moving. Eowyn's uncle owns/runs the stables, so she's most often found working there. Her brother and cousin do most of the riding lessons for the campers and she's often left out. (The adults tend to turn a blind eye when Goold Old Dernhelm, who's definitely been a camper since day one, shows up to activities)

Other folks from the story probably have various filler rolls. Generally vibing with the idea that leaders/kings/queens are the Adults TM and actual Camp Councilors and Staff.

Galadriel is probably camp nurse. Her office is the one air conditioned building in camp, and yeah getting hurt or severely dehydrated sucks, but spending a time in the Lothlorien Cabin is just So Rejuvenating.

Meanwhile in the other camp... Camp Mordor:

Sauron: there's no ambiguity here he owns the camp, he runs the camp, he's in charge. Though he's not above using underlings to get most of the work done

Saruman: he thinks he's second in commant, and generally Sauron lets him be, because he can't be arsed to micromanage every camp group's activities. There's some feud between him and Gandalf that's honestly funny to watch. Takes the Ring Games almost as seriously as Sauron.

The orcs: generally they're the campers in Camp Mordor. Some of the older ones might be in the role of Junior Councilors, but they're all the kids who are going to do most of the work during the Ring Games.

The Nazgul: theyre the adult camp councilors. Easily identified by their uniform shirts, which are black (and honestly the worst choice for a summer where it can often reach 90 in the shade). They take their ditues very seriously. Most of them are legacy campers who eventually aged into councilors as they got older.

Oh my god i nearly forgot Gollum/Smeagol!

Genuinely nobody is sure where this poor kid came from. He might just be some wild kid living in the woods. Nobody claims his as a camper. But also, they're not gonna let some (possibly homeless) dirty child starve, and Bilbo ends up feeling really bad for the poor thing whenever he wanders into camp. So they feed him and let him join in on camp activities when he's around. He's extremely shy of the adults and often doesn't let them see or catch him (they barely got his name from him and nobody's sure if Gollum is a self-appointed nickname or not). Nobody is convinced that he's not really a secret agent for the Other Side. He seems to have an unhealthy obsession with the ring and has been known to steal it from the ring bearers in both sides and run off into the woods to hide with it (Aragorn's usually the one who tracks him to his hidey hole)

Also, Bilbo's just like a financier or something. Not camp staff, but friends with Gandalf and he just spends his summer also watching the Ring Games (rumor is he started the first ever Ring Game when he was a boy at camp). Often found enjoying the comforts of Not Being a Camper and doing Old Man Shit with Gandalf.

[pocketramblr]

The more raw translations say the Himura's have been around for a long time, what are the odds of AFO and Yoichi being related to them?

I know I specialize in family trees and not statistics, but think about what else was learned of the Himuras that maybe I don't want AfO and Yoichi specifically to be related to them in this instance

[paper-star-ships]

Do y'all have workout playlists?? If so gimme

[ilovechuuy4]

꧁Embarrassing things that happened in bed꧂

Chuuya Headcanons + Scenario

warnings; Minor descriptions of s3xual actions, ejaculation w/o penetration. Not rlly proof read.

A/N: GUYS I'M SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING A LOT IDK WHAT'S UP WITH ME I GOT NO MOTIVATION BUT I'M GOING TO TRY TO GET A REQUEST OUT ON THE 28TH DON'T THINK I FORGOT BOUT U GUYS

Headcanons↘︎

• While making out, the first kiss would always make you burst out laughing so it takes the two of y'all at least 10 tries to actually start making out.

• Once you went down on Chuuya and he was feeling it TOO much and almost suffocated you(he apologized profusely after)

• He's definitely broke the bed while having sex with you(using his ability to reach deeper points) but it didn't stop him from continuing.

• Y'all have done it in his office and Kōyō had walked in on yall before scolding the two of y'all.

• Chuuya had gotten leg cramps once and you had offered to ride him the rest of the time.

• Blasting music in a private residence (like a hotel, say PM went on vacation) just to have sex with reader and yet the both of you were still audible.

• For getting to close the blinds/window and a neighbor hears/sees.

• Chuuya finishing whilst y'all are making out before penetration(After a long mission)

Scenario↘︎

Oh god, how long that mission was. You and Chuuya we're assigned a mission last minute and nobody was particularly "up for it" or in other words, you two were the only ones at work at the ripe time of 1 in the morning. It wasn't even a fun mission, it was one of this long dragged out mission. But at last, you and the ginger haired man finally arrived home at the time of 5am.

Once y'all enter the house, your thoughts began to roam of the images of Chuuya's body stiff clearly full arousal during the mission and you had to admit, it made you feel some sort of way. Chuuya glances over, slowly walking to you before embracing you from behind. The bulge in his pants was prominent against your body as he slowly suckled and nipped at your neck.

Soft whines and gasps escape your mouth, head thrown back against the others shoulder. "Mh-mhm~ Chuuya. The whimpers escaping your mouth and before you knew it, your back was pressed firmly against the closest wall. "Fuck, darlin'. I couldn't help myself. You just looked so damn pretty during the mission." This confession made your face blush a deep, wine red as you simply glance away slightly, god how you loved this man.

You felt the other cup your cheek and pull you in for a kiss which you greatfully accepted. Your hands gently cup his neck one thumb rubbing up and down his jaw line. You could practically feel the need radiating off of Chuuya as his tongue pushed passed your lips to explore the caverns of your mouth that he so desperately wanted to explore. You allowed it, yall's tongues danced in a harmony of passion and intimacy and before long, the ginger was getting touchy.

His hands found your rear, gripping it firmly as his tongue is plunged into your mouth tangled around your own. Your couldn't help but let you soft whimpers as you had to slowly pull away, panting. "Ha, sorry it was just, a lot." You murmur, taking deep breathes but when you look at your boyfriend his face is a bright red. You cock a slight eyebrow in curiosity.

"What's wrong?" You asked which made Chuuya look away, he seemed, embarrassed? "I- uhm." He stamppered over his own words, his hands gripping onto your waist as of now. "I'm nintey-nine percent sure I just you know. Came." Chuuya said before burying his face into your neck. You hadn't ever seen him in such an embarrassing state but you couldn't deny that it was kinda fun.

"You came? From making out with me?" You scoffed playfully glancing down and indeed, his pants were well, soaked to say the least. A red hue rose to your cheeks before speaking once more. "Maybe uh, maybe we should take this to the bedroom?" And once you suggested that the man in front of you lit up like a lightbulb, scooping you up in his arms with a chuckle. "I'd never deny such an offer, doll."

[jezabelle9299]

Morning Sunshine S.R x fem! Reader

Overture- Sleepy Spencer x Morning person fem! Reader. They're sharing a room, and he has no idea how you're so lovely this early.

Cws- Exhaustion

A/N-Wow, before it's even midnight--I'm practically productive. Day 17, I'm very excited. This is shorter, but I do kind of really like this idea.

If you'd like to read the other things I've done this month you can do that here: October Masterlist

**************************

By Day 4 of this practically endless case, morale was at an all time low. The small motel had enough rooms for everyone for the first 3 days of the case, but now it was the weekend and they were nearly packed. And of course Spencer’s luck had him stuck with the woman he couldn’t get out of his head for months now, in some cosmic joke where he’s trapped with quite possibly the love of his life–sleeping four feet away from him in a different bed. 

Of course it wasn’t actually a matter of fate, just a gentle push from JJ.

He stayed behind at the police station until he was sure you’d be asleep, then he muddled back to your shared room thanking every deity he could name that you were fast asleep. Only to thank each of them again at his exhaustion allowing him to just pass out without thinking himself into a panic just by being near you. 

You however were just a little bit overjoyed when Hotch was handing out the second round of room keys. Packing cuter pajamas was no longer an option, but you were still looking forward to Spencer being the last person you saw after this terrible day. If only he was actually there. You honestly assumed he decided to just sleep in Derek’s room to avoid you– a thought that hurt your feelings more than you’d like to admit. 

When Spencer did wake up to the lovely sound of his alarm screaming at him, he opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was you. He knew you were a morning person, but he never expected this. It was barely 5am, and you were bopping around in front of the mirror, headphones on, applying makeup while singing along quietly to yourself. He watched you for a moment, only drawing your attention when he sat up and you caught his reflection.

“Good morning” You looked at him in the mirror, and even though your makeup was only halfway done, he still thought you were utterly gorgeous. His first thought was how beautiful you were, but his exhausted brain couldn’t form a singular other thought yet. But you thought he was adorable, with his hair lovingly disheveled.

“It’s so early.” He knew you had been getting as little sleep as he had, barely 5 hours for 4 days in a row. How on Earth were you awake, up, and nice at this hour?

“You could probably go back to sleep for a few more minutes, we aren’t supposed to meet until 6:30.”

“No it’s ok, I usually like to read and drink my coffee before I have to get back to work. But what are you doing up so early?” He slumped over forwards, burying his face in his hands to rub his eyes. When he finally sat back up, he was reaching around to grab his glasses off the hotel nightstand, and you had to fight to keep from swooning.

“I was going to go get breakfast before we have to meet up with everyone, you can come with me if you want? I saw this place on the way here, it’s only like a block away. You can even bring your book, and I won’t bug you. I know not everyone’s chatty in the morning.”  You turned your attention back to your own reflection, and he hated the assumption that he would just ignore you over breakfast. Even if he hadn’t slept at all, he’d want to talk to you.

“I’ve been told I’m chatty all the time. Well chatty isn’t usually the word used, but that’s the sentiment–I’d love to go to breakfast with you.” 

“I like listening to you talk, for the record. But I’m going to finish up with my makeup while you get ready, ok?” 

“Ok.” He made no move to get ready, only starting to lean back further against the headboard. You had extra time this morning, but not quite that much. 

“That may require getting out of bed.”

“Ok.” He still made no move to get up, and you just laughed. He had to get up eventually, but you’d let him stay there if he felt like it. You could be a few minutes late for the morning briefing.

[gojowillcomeback]

Tired n clingy Satoru

ACTUALLY MY FIRST POST I WROTE THIS FOR NO REASON AT ALL N I JUST WANTED TO SHARE IT.🙏🏼🥹

NOTICE :I'M SORRY IF THERE'S ANY VOCABULARY MISTAKES, ENGLISH ISN'T MY FIRST LANGUAGE

*A weird but cute night with your husband after a long day of training in Jujutsu High*

You let out a shaky breath as you realise that you've woken up, sweating a little bit as you noticed the weight against your waist, the arm of Satoru wrapped tightly around you. You yawn slowly to process all the previous events since this morning, your sore muscles making you sigh....

"..sweetheart?". Your gaze turns to Satoru, your eyes wandering around his long form,looking so tiny as he spooned you, his arm never leaving its grip. He seemed as anxious as you, thought he didn't knew why. And the way your body was shaking didn't help,making him nervous as he imagined all of the things that could've happened. He calls you again,this time impossibly softer "honey?", trying to look at you despite his fatigue. You softly chuckle and turn around to face him,his eyes filled with nothing but admiration as he was finally able to see your pretty...no, beautiful face. He involontarily smiles,his lips moving on their own,because how couldn't he, when you were looking at him so lovingly?

You both sent love confessions through eyes contact, a romantic atmosphere enveloping the room before you decided to part your lips,a soft mumble of "i love you,satoru"

Fuck, he's fucked. You knew that those 4 words absolutely rode him straight to mars, and that he would steal the Moon for you on his way back. He didn't want to show how much this meant to him,though he always failed to stop the loud purses of his heart,the way his cheeks turned the most cute shade of pink and,oh,how his eyes widened at the way your lip moved while you confessed to him. For you,it was rather an embarassing sentence,but to him,it meant everything. You are his everything.He ached to make more contact with your skin,feeling you closer and closer, being able to hold you as you both turned into one. The way your scent made him go wild was insane. If he ended up nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck, you knew that he will stick to you like a koala in the morning.(Even though you didn't mind.)

Your hand finds its way to his fluffy white hair as soft groans and little "i love you more"s from the strongest man could be heard. He's fighting with himself to keep his eyes open,to engrave your soul into his, but your touch was so overwhelming that his whole body was burning with your affection. Satoru felt more and more tired under your soft hand, clinging onto any part of you that he could, wrapping his arms around your waist,pressing his chest against yours in an attempt to hear both of your heartbeats,slowly drifting out to the soft melody of your love.

5AM ;You wake up again,dying of thirstness. You oddly untangle yourself from your husband and go to the kitchen to drink a glass of water. Just as you were about the grab the bottle,you hear someone from behind calling you out "baby...". You turn around to see Satoru,leaning against the doorframe to not fall down,his hair a cute mess. You walk up to him, gently wrapping your arms around him to keep him balanced,your hands massaging his back

-"what's up honey?".

-"come back to bed" he yawns,resting his head on your shoulder and kissing your neck*

-i was just going to drink water,baby *you chuckles,slowly patting his head*

After you were done,you laid back next to Satoru,enjoying the last intimate moment before you both drift back to sleep,melting into each other.

[svltzmans]

ink - f. g.

tattoo artist! fiona gallagher x fem! reader

a/n: its almost 5am and i can't stop thinking about this so i'm making y'all think with me

warnings: nsfw content (18+), a tattoo gun is used in an... interesting way 😭, degradation/dumbification if you squint

fiona's hands are steady as she adds line by line to y/n's thigh piece.

ever since fiona had started tattooing, she had begged her girlfriend to let her practice on her.

it wasn't that y/n didn't trust fiona, she just didn't have any ideas for a new tattoo.

that was, until, she had said "a dragon on my thigh or some shit" as a joke when fiona had asked.

fiona actually designed a thigh tattoo for y/n, an artfully decorated dragon that y/n had quickly fallen in love with.

and so, y/n finally agreed to sit in fiona's tattoo chair.

y/n had gotten a few tattoos previously, and knew she had to be prepared for a bit of pain.

fiona was surprisingly gentle, and her work was going smoothly. y/n was relaxed in the chair, scrolling aimlessly on her phone.

everything was going swimmingly until fiona neared y/n's inner thigh with the tattoo gun.

y/n quickly noticed that the vibration of the tattoo gun so close to her core was beyond pleasurable, and it was starting to get difficult to sit still.

she bit her tongue and gripped the seat below her, basking in the feeling.

fiona quickly took notice.

"does it hurt, baby? you're sitting so well for me though," fiona quips, still focused on her work.

"little bit," y/n responds, still trying to keep her composure. it's almost embarrassing that a tattoo gun lightly brushing her entirely clothed pussy felt this good.

part of it is how she feels looking at fiona, she thinks.

something about fiona's newfound tattooing passion was beyond sexy to y/n, and seeing her so focused on her thigh was doing things to her that she could never have imagined.

eventually, y/n feels her legs start to shake and her hips involuntarily jerk upward. she's struggling to contain herself, supressing whimpers.

"gotta sit still, baby girl, almost done with this piece."

fiona calling y/n names wasn't helping her case, and she was dangerously close.

eventually, her efforts to hold back weren't helping anymore.

"fi-fiona," y/n stutters, feeling her orgasm looming over her.

"what's going on? are you okay? want me to stop?" fiona is initially concerned, worrying that her girlfriend is in pain.

"n-no, no don't stop," y/n shamelessly moans at that point, throwing her head back.

fiona looks up in confusion, before a look of realization falls over her face.

"oh, i see what this is. you like how this feels on your pussy huh? feels good?" fiona says cockily.

"god, i uh- yes. i um, i'm close," y/n responds, almost feeling embarrassed by her pleasure.

"this is all it takes for you to cum, huh baby? might have to tattoo you more often then," fiona teases, her eyes still stuck on y/n's fresh ink.

y/n doesn't hold back any more noise, finally letting fiona hear and see how she's feeling.

"fiona i, i think i need to cum."

"oh do you? better stay still, i'm not done yet," fiona continues to tantilize y/n, a sultry sound accompanying each word out of her mouth.

y/n feels her orgasm crashing over her, forcing herself to keep still.

her nails dig into fiona's tattoo chair, her lip being bitten hard enough to break skin.

"kinda pathetic that you came from that, don't you think? didn't even have to take your pants off, gorgeous."

"i, i couldn't help it, fi. the tattoo looks amazing, by the way," y/n responds, finally seeing her almost finished piece of body art.

fiona simply laughs, putting finishing touches on y/n's skin.

[kyri45]

Hoi there, it's me again

Thank you for replying to my list of questions (Hope it wasn't too much for ya ^^'')

I also got another question for you. Do you have a job? If yes how much hours do you do? Mostly asking because I'm curious how are you still able to have energy and motivation on doing art right after your shift is done?

I have been struggling with trying to balance my work-life and trying to get back into doing arts again like I used to. It feels so weird that I once had so much energy to do art and have fun with it during my time in university, but now that it's over the drive just suddenly paused.

It might have to do with burnout, but even so, it's weird.

Any tips on how to manage your time to be able to get your porjects done and be able to stay motivated to do art as well?

Thank you ahead if you see it.

Lots of hugs to you.

PS.: Stay Your Awesome self as always!

Hii! So like- in the past 3 weeks/ next 6 weeks my schedule is more or less the following:

I wake up at 5am or 6am, depending on how much i slept/how is my insomnia.

I work for commissions from 5 to 6am (or i sleep)

How I stay motivated? Well drawing the comics for me is what I do on my "free time". And for me is like my hobby/fun thing to do after work.

From 7am to 5pm I work as a windsurf/wingfoil instructor (sometimes during my break i still work on commissions or on the comics if i need to chill, and during my shift if I don't get caught when I don't have lesson I answer to some of your asks)

From 6:30/7pm to 10pm I draw, again mostly for my client/commission.

Every drawing that you see posted (both comics and other fanarts) I draw during my 2 days off)

I have no idea how I'm still functioning honestly. Might be that I have insomnia and this schedule works for me bc at 10pm (which is actually rn, i should sleep) i'm so tired that I'm finally able to fall asleep.

I think the thing is I'm way too tired to draw something for fun AFTER work. But on my free days I'm more rested and can only focus on having fun drawing or other things.

[melverie]

Aaahhh, thank you so much for the tag @king-a-queen!! 💚💚

15 Questions Tag Game

01 - Are you named after anyone?

First name: nope Second name: yep, after my grandma

02 - When was the last time you cried?

About a week ago bc I was laughing too hard Also techinically this morning. My eyes just started tearing up a bit while I was still in bed & staring against the wall. I guess that white wall was just tugging at my heartstrings

03 - Do you have kids?

The only children I have are my OCs <3 My current beloved OCs are Aym, Marchosias (💖💖💖💖💖), and Baal; all for Obey Me

04 - What sports do you play/have you played?

So as a kid, I took MSE (self-defense) classes, I did ballet for a short while, and I played badminton. But now I'm not really doing much sports anymore. I'm occasionally working out in a sad attempt to stay healthy but that's...not working out all that well because I keep forgetting about it lol. That being said, I walk anywhere as long as it's a walkable distance away (to me, that's around 90min max), idc it's the European mindset. Der Fußbus hält überall :)

05 - Do you use sarcasm?

As if I would ever smh what are these accusations

06 - What is the first thing you notice about people?

When I pass strangers on the street, I try to look for little moments that bring them joy. That being said, 90% of the time I'm just lost in my own thoughts & have completely tunnel vision, so imagine noticing anything 😭 When I first meet people tho, it's usually the way they look at you, which tbh is a little ironic because I sometimes just cannot look people in the eyes NFDHSKGJHKSDLGS

07 - What's your eye color?

They used to be blue, but now they're more of a greyish green with a few brown spots in them

08 - Scary movies or happy endings?

Okay endings, actually! Where characters don't get the happy ending they were hoping for, and some things are still a little messy, but all in all things are okay and they finally get to breath again. Though I guess that's kind of a happy ending? lol

09 - Any talents?

My newest talent is being able to imitate the cry of an owl. My sister explained it to me earlier & once I got it to work I've been doing it non-stop until I got lightheaded 😭 Worth it tho Other than that, being able to teach myself the basics of a lot of things within a day (one of the upsides of ADHD), as well as abandoning a lot of my projects after a while because I suddenly decided to start a completely different one (one of the downsides of ADHD) I also have a real talent for writing angst. Ask any of my closer mutuals, I keep terrorizing them with my ideas (love you guys 💖) And finally: telling myself that I'll go to sleep early & then it's 5am

10 - Where were you born?

in Germanyyy fun fact: I was born more or less close to a town that has a store called 'Mephisto' lol

11 - What are your hobbies?

being insane, obviously 💚 some of my mutuals can surely attest to that lol No, but in general I enjoy writing & drawing, as well as, uhm. Randomly deciding to take up multiple really time-consuming projects, such as the OM card rec thing I did that I still need to update ahhhh, my Obey Me OC & MC ask game that originally had 200+ questions before I cut it in half out of fear of it being too long, half of my side blogs, and SOOOO many other things. <- or in short, being insane 💚 I also really love cooking & baking! Side note, if anyone wants an easy chocolate lava cake recipe, you just need to ask... 👀 Also lately it's just been romancing Thanatos in Hades because I randomly remembered that I hadn't done that yet

12 - Do you have any pets?

I used to have clownfish and a starfish, but other than that I've never had any myself. I love the dogs I dogsit with all my heart tho, and there is this cat that I sometimes meet on my way to work. She always runs up to me when she sees me and won't stop meowing until I start petting her, and last time she climbed onto my lap (I sat down in the middle of the sidewalk, I did not care lmao), she's literally the sweetest 😭😭 I also ring the doorbell for her whenever it rains so she doesn't have to stay outside lol

13 - How tall are you?

1,68m or 5'6 if I got the conversion correct lol

14 - Favourite subject in school?

Heavily depended on the teacher, but generally art class because we usually got to work on whatever we wanted with and listen to music. Also English in 9th grade, math in 10th and German in 11th because the teachers were great

15 - Dream job?

I've been thinking of translations in general/software localizition for a while now. I just love dissecting all the small differences between languages (D.D.D.s being called 'D3' my beloved), + there are so many invisble choices made when translating. You'll always lose something because every language has its little quirks and a different mindset that can't be translated directly, but you'll also gain something that the original version didn't have. It's an art form in itself, and I really love that <3 The other job that keeps popping into my mind is event mangement. I already get to organize a ton of things for my uni since I'm part of the student council for one of my two majors. It's exhausting, but also really rewarding when you have people come up to you afterwards to tell you how much fun they had!

No pressure tags for a bunch of people, hehe >:) @alpine-forget-me-nots @healersadjust @misc-magic @sweetbrier2908 @reblogs-are-the-love @shootingstarrfish @mjoria @too-much-gacha @layphie @katboykirby @ghostlyyraccoon @lost-in-lamentation @bagofwetmice @glamphantasm @wizardthesai @mellonyheart @arlatthan as well as anyone else that wants to join!

[semi-senioritis]

Im so goddamn nervous for the final round

With that said though, it seems like Till is crying. Even though the comics have shown Till being a little standoffish with Ivan, I do think that Till geniunely cared about him. So maybe he's grieving him here as well as Mizi. I mean from Till's perspective he literally has nobody left now.

Also noting Luka's heartrate monitor which seems to be hooked up to his earpiece...I guess it helps him keep track of it???

Its kinda hard to read it, granted I'm not a nurse or doctor or anything like that, but I've been trying to find heart rates that might match.

This is the closest I could find. It *looks* like his heart rate is more on par with sinus tachycardia (again not medical professional here). Its probably a result of his illness (literally cant remember the name of it), but it can also be an indicator of exercise, anxiety and/or stress. So Luka could also be nervous about the final round (which is fair given that Till is a prodigy and if he decides to lock in for the final round, then Luka really could be cooked). He could also just be exerting himself too much with all the movements he does on stage.

I think it would be interesting though, if Luka died not because he geniunely lost to Till, but because he was so overworked and pressured to be this perfect human idol, that he collapses and dies on stage from the stress on his body. From his illness, to hardly being able to eat, it wouldn't surprise me if his body just gave out.

I think it'd also be kind of interesting since the Alien Stage video suggests that he wouldn't be opposed to Hyuna killing him since he doesn't resist when she holds the knife to him.

Because while Luka is also a victim of the alien stage, it doesn't necessarily negate what he's done to Hyuna and Mizi. And since its obvious he wants Hyuna, whether for geniune companionship or in a possessive-controlling sort of way (you know like how someone who may not have control over aspect of their life might desire to exert their control over someone else to rectify that?), being denied death at her hands would be a bittersweet, karmiac sort of justice.

Also its 5am so if none of this makes sense just know I'm not even fully coherent right now.

[thlayli-ra]

Stray (part 4)

Characters - CM Punk, Drew McIntyre, Larry, Samoa Joe

Pairing - CM Punk/Drew McIntyre, CM Punk/Samoa Joe (past)

AU - Stray AU

Rating - Mature

Warnings - Strong language, mentions of human trafficking, imprisonment and prostitution

Words - ~3,000 words (this is a longer one, yay!)

Summary - Punk asks a 'friend' for help

The door rang at six the next morning and Punk answered it immediately, already fully dressed.

'What did you do now?' the large set man on the doorstep grumbled.

'What makes you think I did anything?' Punk asked with his hand on his chest, taking offence to the accusation.

'When you call me at 5am telling me to bring spare clothes and my tool kit, I take that as a strong sign that you've done something,' Joe replied gruffly, stepping in past Punk and up the front steps. 'So just get it over with and tell me what the hell hap-'

He stopped mid-word when he reached the top of the stairs and found the stranger sitting innocently on Punk's sofa, naked except for a poorly fitting pair of boxer briefs and a dog collar around his neck. The newcomer gaped at the sight, then quickly dumped everything onto the floor.

'Excuse me,' Joe politely said to the stranger then roughly dragged Punk to the back steps at the far end of the living area.

'Ah, you grabbed me by the fucking neck,' Punk whined as Joe slammed the door behind them to give them some privacy.

'What the hell is that?' he demanded to know.

'I believe it's what they call an adult human male,' Punk shot back sarcastically.

'Don't get smart with me, Phillip Jack!'

'Oh, we're doing the Phillip Jack thing already, are we?'

'Just tell me who the fuck he is?'

Punk shrugged his shoulders. 'Dunno.'

'Well, what's his name?'

'Dunno.'

'Then where'd he come from?'

'I found him round the back of Mrs Goldstein's house. Good thing too, if she'd found him first she'd probably have had her third stroke and-'

'Wait! Wait! WAIT!' Joe scrubbed his eyes with his fingertips. 'What do you mean you found him?'

'Last night during the storm,' Punk retorted as if that made complete sense. 'Kid was all alone and banged up so I took him back here and cleaned him up.' Joe was trying to process just what the hell was happening but Punk didn't seem to notice. 'Hey, you know sign language, right?'

'I know exactly four languages, one of which is sign language, yes,' Joe replied, not following any of this in the slightest.

'Great! Come with me!' Gripping Joe by his broad shoulders, Punk shuffled him back into the living area and over to the lounge where the stranger was sitting calmly, stroking Larry who was sleeping next to him on the couch. 'Hey, so, this here is Joe, he's sorta, kinda, well, he's my-

'Friend,' Joe cut in abruptly.

'Yeah...' Punk muttered bitterly. 'Friend.'

The stranger stared blankly at them both.

'Well?' Punk looked expectantly at Joe. 'Go on.'

Heaving a huff of frustration, Joe signed 'hi, my name is Joe. What's your name?' when Punk cuffed him on the arm.

'He can hear you alright, I just need you to translate what he's saying.'

By this time, seeing someone else using hand motions had excited the stranger and he began throwing gestures right back at the large-set man who blinked with a furrowed brow. 'That's... not ASL,' he said, at last. 'Wait, where's your globe?'

'Pfft, I don't have a fucking globe,' Punk snorted.

'Oh really? Not even that one I bought you three Christmases ago?'

Punk quickly backtracked. 'Ohhh, that globe! Yeah I still got that globe.' He rushed over to a closet at the far end of the room and took a long time digging around before he finally produced it, still in its box and sealed.

'You keep it in the back of your closet?' Joe asked coldly, accepting the box from Punk.

'Just for safe-keeping, while I'm getting my office repainted.'

'Riiiiiiight.' Ripping the box open, Joe fetched out the plastic globe and placed it on the coffee table in front of the stranger. 'Can you show us where you're from?'

On instinct, Joe had turned the globe so that North America was facing the stranger but once he placed his large fingers on the sphere, he began turning it, passing over the Atlantic Ocean until he settled it at Europe. A wobbly smile broke his lips when he pressed his fingertip to a spot and both Punk and Joe leaned in for a closer look.

'You're from England?' Punk brows shot up.

The stranger gave a vicious snarl.

'From Scotland,' Joe corrected. The cat paw bobbed wildly. 'Hold on a minute...' Joe fished out his phone and began tapping away on the screen while Punk stared down at the tiny nation pressed beneath the stranger's large digit.

'We've been to Scotland before, haven't we?'

'Yeah, few times. Back when we were starting out, we had some bouts in Glasgow.'

'That's right! You from Glasgow?' The stranger shook his fist. He then began pointing his fingers upwards. 'You're from... Up? Uptown? O-over...? Over-town?'

'Skye?' Joe put in his guess but everything received a shake of the head. The stranger then splayed his fingers, hovering them around him. 'Air?' Cat paw! Cat paw! 'Oh, Ayr! You're from Ayr?'

'How do you know all this shit?' Punk asked, his nose scrunched.

'Unlike you, I like to try and learn about the places we visit.' Joe returned to his phone, ignoring the eye roll from the tattooed man. 'Ah, now it makes sense. He's using British Sign Language.'

'Is it that different?'

Joe sighed with exasperation. 'Yeah, it is.' He turned his attention back to the stranger. 'I've pulled up the BSL alphabet. Can you spell your name out for me? Slowly?'

'You could just have gotten him to write it out,' Punk pointed out with a scoff.

'He's been with you since yesterday and you didn't think to do that.' Punk snapped his mouth shut. 'Go on.' The stranger began moving his hands. First he pointed his left index finger up and placed his right index and thumb against it, opened up like a semi-circle, clearly making the shape of a familiar letter. 'D,' Joe confirmed. Then he crooked his left index finger. 'R'. Next he placed his right index finger on the tip of his left index finger. 'E.' And finally he knitted the tops of his fingers together, palms facing. 'W,' Joe said and put the all the letters together. 'Drew? Your name is Drew?'

The dark head and cat paw bobbed excitedly. Blue eyes pricked with tears from finally hearing his own name being spoken back to him. He wasn't the only one who found himself emotionally affected by the reveal. In the corner, Punk had gone deathly quiet, his lips hanging open slightly as his mind raced.

Drew... his name is Drew...

'So, how did you get over here, Drew?' Joe asked. The Scotsman replied by swooping his fist through the air, his thump and pinkie extended. 'You flew here?' Cat paw, but then the fingers grasped the collar at his neck.

'They flew you here,' Punk answered, understanding the hidden meaning. 'They guys who held you prisoner?'

Cat paw, followed by more finger spelling. Joe read them out as they were motioned 'L. I. E. Lie, they lied to you?' Cat paw, followed by a sawing and hammer motion. 'They said it was for work?' Cat paw, then another grasp at his collar. 'But they imprisoned you instead.'

'They forced him to fight,' Punk cut in, already knowing this part of Drew's horrific recent past. 'Probably around the illegal circuits, remember them? We looked into a few before we realised how fucking dangerous they were?'

But Joe was rubbing his fingers back and forth over his lips, deep in thought. 'Drew...' the blue eyes stared back at him. 'They made you do more than fight, right?' The Scot hesitated, glancing cautiously at Punk. 'That collar around your neck. Did they make you do anything... sexual?'

Punk hitched a breath, feeling his skin turn as cold as ice. The sensation overwhelmed him when he watched Drew's beautiful eyes darken and his head sink in shame. Punk couldn't contain the snarl in his throat as he scrubbed his palm over his face. His fists were shaking and he needed an outlet for it. Now!

He slammed his fist back against the wall. Hard. Feeling the skin break as it hit unrelenting brick. Joe looked up at him, his brows lowered. Go on, say it! Like a 'cornered feral cat'. Just fucking say it!

But it was Drew who piped up, flattening his left palm and swiping his right pointed finger beneath it. Joe's attention moved back to the large hands, trying to decipher them. Drew helped him by reaching down to shake the shattered chain at his feet. It was the first time the larger man had seen it and his face gave away the shock. 'But you escaped,' he explained, bringing Punk's focus back to the room.

Drew smiled broadly, then placed his thumb against his chest, swooping it around in a figure of eight. It took Joe a while to work out the sign but when he did, a grin broke out on his usually sullen face. 'Yes, yes I see,' he replied warmly and mimicked the same gesture on his chest.

Punk watched them both with bewilderment, wondering what joke he was missing out on, when Joe beamed up at him. 'You get it, right Punker?' he asked, doing the motion again. Punk shook his head. 'That means you!'

'Me?' Punk blinked, and looked over to Drew for confirmation. The blue eyes twinkled back at him, full lips spread wide revealing two deep dimples in his bearded cheeks. He did the motion again, swirling his thumb over his chest and Punk finally understood. He was following the path of the waves and serpent on his chest tattoo, just like he had last night in the wet room.

All of a sudden, Punk lost the ability to draw in breath. Overcome with emotion, he bit down hard on his cheek to stifle any sobs. 'Y-yeah,' he stuttered, shakily bobbing his head. 'Then I found you.'

With several mysteries solved, Joe moved on to the tasks Punk had sent him for. First on the checklist was removing the metal cuff and chain from around Drew's ankle. While Joe opened his tool box, Punk went into the kitchen to prepare some breakfast for them all. Larry lay flat on the couch, glaring at Joe as he placed a rod into the locking mechanism of the cuff and gave a threatening growl when Joe pulled back the mallet to strike.

'Yes, yes, I know Larry,' Joe said to the little dog. 'I promise I will be careful.' Another snarl. 'I promise! Urgh, you just had to adopt the dog that's a small furry version of you, didn't you?' he shot at Punk.

'Guess we're just the type that's nobody else wants,' Punk fired back from the kitchen.

He knew it was a cruel barb and from the corner of his eye, he saw Joe lower his arm and close his eyes, taking in a long, deep breath through his nose, the way he always did when he was trying to compose himself. Eventually he shrugged off Punk's vicious comment and moved on.

The cuff broke apart on the second strike and Drew's leg was finally free. He asked Punk to fetch the first aid kit ('under the sink, top shelf. You really should know this by now! What if you burn yourself or cut yourself with a knife in the kitchen!') then cleaned and wrapped the wounds on Drew's ankle. Once the Scot had been treated, Joe helped him into some old clothes of his. He may not have the height that Drew did, but he was large and broad so the clothes fitted much better than Punk's did.

By the time, they all sat down at the table to eat, Drew was transformed. Wearing a navy T-shirt and black shorts with his long hair pulled back in an old hair-tie that Punk had found in a drawer, he looked more... normal. Like any other guy. Well, except for the collar around his neck. Punk placed his food down in front of him and had a double-take, examining him from head to foot. He couldn't deny that he looked good. Really good!

He served Joe next then, after topping up Larry's bowl, he joined them at the table with his own stack of pancakes. Grabbing up the syrup first, he proceeded to empty almost the entire bottle onto his stack as Drew and Joe looked on in disgust.

'You never change,' Joe muttered. They soon tucked in and Joe's eyes lit up with the first taste of the warm pancakes. 'Wow, these are delicious! You've really improved your technique.'

Punk chewed his bottom lip awkwardly. 'I didn't make 'em,' he confessed. 'They're yours. I found them in the freezer box.'

'Wait, so they've been in there all this time?'

Punk never once took his eyes off the pancakes on his plate as he stuffed another bite into his mouth. 'Just... forgot they were there.'

The atmosphere dampened and they ate the rest of their breakfast in silence.

A short while later, Punk escorted Joe to the door. 'Thanks again for helping out,' he said, stuffing his hands into the back pockets of his jeans.

'No problem, I just...' Joe gently shoved Punk out onto his front step and closed the door behind him with a quick glance upstairs to make sure nobody was within earshot. 'Punker,' he said, sternly and the cage-fighter knew there was a lecture coming, 'listen to me. Drew is a big guy. He's taller than both of us and he's clearly really strong.'

'I know what you're getting at,' Punk sighed, 'and I've been thinking it too.'

'Good,' Joe cut in with relief. 'Cause anybody who trafficked a guy like Drew here and kept him prisoner all these years has to be dangerous.'

'You don't have to worry about me,' Punk smiled weakly out the side of his mouth.

'You know you have a habit of getting yourself into stupid shit you're not cut out for.'

Punk bristled at that and folded his arms across his chest. 'What you saying here exactly?'

'This isn't your problem to solve. Drew was trafficked here illegally by criminals - you have to call the cops.'

'Why?' Punk argued, getting defensive. 'So they can just toss him in a holding centre somewhere. He's already been imprisoned against his will for years, I can't do that to him again.'

'You don't know that!' Joe protested. 'You're not a social worker-'

'No shit,' Punk snapped back, 'because I'm actually helping the guy.'

'You can't let what happened to you cloud your judgement here,' Joe tried to reason with the cage-fighter who was getting more irate and closed off by the second. 'I get that what Chez and her family did for you was incredibly kind and selfless but there's no expectation on you to pay that forward.'

'And what if I want to!' Punk opened his arms wide. 'What if I just wanna do the right thing here?'

'This isn't some fifteen year old kid we're talking about,' Joe kept his voice calm and composed, the way he always did when they argued. Punk hated when he did that! 'The guy looks to be in his mid to late thirties. He's not even from here, he has a whole life and family back home, maybe even a wife and kids.'

'He doesn't have to stay if he doesn't want to,' Punk debated, 'but until he's ready, gets back on his feet, who gives a shit?'

'And what if those guys come looking for him?'

Punk paused, pursing his lips. 'We'll be alright. I'll keep him safe.'

Joe scrubbed his hand across his brow, no doubt feeling a stress headache taking hold. 'It's not him, I'm worried about. I'm worried about you.'

'I told you already, you don't need to-'

'But I do! I can't help it. Every damn minute of every damn day I worry about you and it drives me fucking crazy! I can't keep doing this.'

'Then why did you answer my call at 5am this morning? Why did you even come here?'

Joe heaved a long, weary sigh. 'I don't know,' he admitted. 'I really want this to work out between us, this whole 'friendship' thing, I really do, but you've got to put in the effort too. You've gotta at least try to move on.'

'You're the one who left me!' Punk was raising his voice and he couldn't help it. All the pain and hurt from the past few months was spilling out of him like water gushing through a fractured dam. 'You don't get to tell me when I'm ready to move on. Anyway, how the hell am I meant to move on when I keep finding your shit all over my house!'

He clamped his mouth shut, realising his faux-pas too late. Joe stared back at him, furious agony marring his features.

'Exactly. Your house! Your career. Your hopes, your dreams. Your life. You, you, you! That's all it's ever been about. You're so fucking selfish!'

'Yeah, well why'd you stick around so long if I was such a shitty boyfriend and an even shittier fiancé?'

Joe shrugged his shoulders in defeat. 'Good question,' he said, bitterly as he turned away. 'Least you've matured enough to admit that at last.'

Punk could have called his name, could have told him to stay and they could talk things out properly but he knew it wouldn't work. The one talent that he had was making things worse. So he let Joe walk away. Again.

Stepping back inside, he forced all the pain down deep inside him again, pushing it into the dark recesses and sealing it tight.

Right now, he had more important things to worry about than whining about how his life was falling apart at the seams. He had a blue-eyed Scot called Drew who needed him.

Who needed him to be strong.

To be continued...

Previous chapter

Next chapter

[pixiemage]

I deal with ADHD on a daily basis, meaning I struggle with multiple (frustrating) things. There's one in particular that's been on my mind the most as of late: it's difficult for me to complete large tasks easily. For me, motivation, mental energy, and time are limited, and those rare moments where it all lines up so I can get shit done are often few and far between. This applies to both things I don't want to do, and things I do want to do. Even writing or cosplay construction or editing videos can become daunting tasks even though they're all fun and enjoyable hobbies of mine.

Recently, I've been trying to clean my room.

As anyone in my immediate family can tell you, this has been a big problem since I was young. My room starts clean, but then I put a few pairs of shoes by my bed, then don't have the energy to deal with the growing laundry pile, then can't find a place for the new mic stand I got for my birthday, then I start dumping jewelry on my bedside table at the end of the day when I'm tired, then - then - then. And then it builds to a disastrous tipping point and it has become this massive, incomprehensible task I have to tackle, and because my brain hates me, it's a frustrating and grueling process to even figure out where to begin.

But deadlines help (pressure helps) and I have found that working on it in the wee hours of the morning (from midnight to like 5am) is somehow a way to get my brain to focus on it. For some reason I work better then. Arguably, this isn't logical or useful every day because I need sleep and I have work, but I made MASSIVE progress two days ago by staying up way too late on a night when I finally found the drive to get shit done.

That's not really the point of this post though.

The point is that I've found that a majority of society (or maybe just the NT community in general) have a hard time seeing progress as worthwhile when completion is better.

"Did you finish your room?" "Not yet, but I dealt with that massive pile of crap on my couch! It's SO much better, and I can actually see the floor in front of my dresser now, and-" "That's not what I asked. Did you finish?" "Not yet." "The answer is no, then."

It doesn't matter how much I've done. It doesn't matter how proud I am of my partial progress. It doesn't matter that I fought tooth and nail to get to the point I'm at, because unfortunately, I haven't finished it all yet, so it's not good enough.

(And I know I have a deadline, and I know we have family coming over soon, and I know that being done is the goal, but the deadline isn't here yet. Give me time. I need time.)

I think we as a society need to award and praise ourselves more for the efforts we put in, whether we reached a finish line or not. I'm not saying we shouldn't strive for completion, because at the end of the day that's often the goal of any task. But we should also let ourselves be proud of how far we have come as long as we're doing our best. I don't see that often enough. I continuously struggle to reach that finish line, but hey, I came this far today! I didn't reach Toad so he could tell me my princess was in another castle (because god knows there's always another task), but I did hit that checkpoint, and since I've been struggling through this level for as long as I have, that's still worth celebrating in some small way. It's still worth all the coins I collected and the goons I defeated to get to this point.

Don't reprimand your kids because their hard work thus far doesn't quite live up to your standards. Applaud what they've done and then help them find the right next step so they're motivated to keep going.

It takes a lot of work to save a princess. The journey has a lot more monsters than just the dragon.

[zacki0gaming]

Any Thoughts/Theories On Pink Corruption S2 EP 3 Part 2 Preview?

So when I woke 5am in the morning, I immediately got onto my phone. While scrolling on YouTube, guess what popped up on my screen, "the next preview"... and when I saw that thumbnail I was like, "It's gonna happen... God no..." If you know what I mean by that...

You know what let my analyze here start to finish.

*SPOILER WARNING WATCH THE PREVIEW FIRST SEEING THIS*

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The preview starts showing Ajaceare happily laughing after stealing even more tree pieces, most likely from the other Spherical Forest' Groups. But the way she's moving looks like she's like the fucking Little Red Riding Hood bringing her basket of goodies toward her grandma's house.

Anyway, Ajaceare receives a call from from Dub and gives him the news on the amount of tree pieces she collected inside a pink bag. How many damn pieces did she just collect...?

After receiving praise by her boss and hangs up the call, Ajaceare senses nearby unknown shapes, at least 3 who are most likely a new group we haven't seen before. OH SO NOW YOU SENSING SHIT LIKE HOW YOU OR LYCANTHROPY DIDN'T SENSE PENTELLOW AND THE OTHERS FROM THE BEHIND IN THE PREVIOUS EPISODE!!!

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Analyzing The Unknown Shapes

Let me put this down first for you guys!

Alright, from the look of this group, there is at least 3 individuals here while one of them isn't speaking. There is very high possibility that this is a new group we haven't seen before, but... One of their voices catches my attention.

It is because one of them sounds similar toward Iris's father's voice. Ok, here's what I want you guys to do, analyze Iris's Father's voice from the these timestamps I'm gonna provide for the "Circubit's Reoccuring Memory" and this preview together and see if their is anything off about it.

Timestamps

Circubit's Reoccuring Memory: Here

The Preview: Here

================================================

Unbeknownst to them being watched by Ajaceare, the unknowns shapes were having a private discussion. The first individual wanting to return to the village because the area is giving them the creeps.

The second individual says that they knows, but they can still fight, tell off the first individual's to stop worrying about it. The first individual says that they never knows because they thinks that their is a monster somewhere around here, while the other yells at him to stop it.

Ajaceare than starts menacingly laughing, presumably gonna start attacking them or not. The scene than shifts toward Pyrare and the others finally spotting Ajaceare from the distance. Ajavex tells Pyrare the plan while cutely giving him a nickname, "Tri-Py". Alright...😂

Ajacenus pauses regarding the nickname, prompting Ajavex to clarify it. Ajavex explains that she bestowed this moniker upon Pyrare based on her perception of his appearance, as Ajacenus explains that it is because he looks like a "triangular-shaped pie." Alright...😂 Pyrare than tells the ladies to remain focused on the mission. Pyrare and the others notices Ajaceare disappearing in front of them as Pyrare asked where did she go.

Gold response as he says she's up there, presumably from the trees as the video ends.

Alright, finally done. Let me know your thoughts/theories down in the comment section below!

[spicy-apple-pie]

Our beloved waffle queen, Stephanie?

Sexuality Headcanon- cis and bi with a preference for women

OTP- StephCass, obviously

BROTP- Her and Tim, we love exes that are each other's wing man. (Close second is Damian)

NOTP- I think I saw a ship with her and Jason one time??? Idk, I wouldn't be surprised if someone shipped it.

First Headcanon that pops into my head- She got dating advice from Harley Quinn when she was held captive by her at one time. Both of them demanded that Batman stay out of the room until they were done talking. He never did rescue Steph, because it was 5am when she finally thanked Harley for her advice.

Favourite line from this character- I'm learning I'm more of a visual person, so here's my favourite panel of hers

7. One way in which I relate to this character- I would say our sense of humour is pretty similar.

8. The thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character- her flanderization I would think. Just reducing her down to comedic relief.

9. Cinnamon roll or problematic fave?- Cinnamon roll.

[earlgreytea68]

I admire your writing SO MUCH. What is your writing routine? Or do you have any writing tips you might like to share?

Awwww, THANK YOU! That is really so lovely to hear!!

My writing routine changes from time to time, which I mention because sometimes it's worthwhile to switch up your routine if it stops working for you.

I always advice trying to write at least a little bit every day, even if it's just a sentence or a paragraph. And rather than framing it that way -- a sentence, a paragraph, a hundred words -- I set aside time to write. Even if I only sit down for five minutes and spend the whole five minutes re-reading what I wrote last time, keeping the story there in my mind is useful to me.

Because I think you should try to find time to write every day, I try to have a time set aside each day to write. When I was younger, I used to write at night. Then two things happened: (1) I got busier, which meant I was sitting down later and later at night for my writing time; (2) I began to be so tired at the end of the night when I finally got time to write. I didn't really notice that I was tired, what I noticed was I was having a hard time writing. The stories felt like slogs and I wasn't getting anywhere.

So! I read somewhere about someone who used to get up early in the morning to write. Look, I am not a person who's waking up at 5am to write. But some mornings I wake up fifteen to thirty minutes earlier than I need to, and I sit up in bed and I write, and this has worked really, really well for me. My brain is much more awake at the beginning of the day and the words have come more easily and it's been a nice way to ease into the day. The problem is it's not a very long period of time, but it's better than nothing. Again, when I was younger, I used to find the time to write for hours. Life happens. Rather than lamenting the loss of marathon writing sessions, instead I cherish the time that I get.

With that said, you might be like, "Hang on, sometimes you very quickly turn around a fic right after some event has happened, how are you doing that in 15 minutes at the beginning of the day?" Oh, don't worry, I'm definitely not. Because this is my other piece of advice: Sometimes you get an idea that just, like, goes, and when that happens, I write. Now obviously you can't do this if you have other commitments, but anything that I can procrastinate to the next day in favor of writing a fic that feels right there, I do, and I do it without guilt, because I can do it the next day, and who knows if the fic will be there the next day. I don't know if that's exactly advice, because I know I have a much more flexible schedule than many people do, but I did want to explain that I promise I'm not lying when I say usually I only write 15-30 minutes a day lol

So that is my "routine." As for "tips," my main writing tip is to write what you would like to read. If it interests you, then it's done its job. For this reason, I think writing is very personal and there are almost no universal "tips," because different things work for each person. I, for instance, cannot outline and hate to do it; it messes me totally up. I start with a vague idea and a first sentence and I go from there. This works for me. I'm unbothered by not having a plan. It wouldn't work for everyone, so if that idea freaks you out, make an outline! But if you feel like you get stuck at the outline stage, this is permission from me to ignore it entirely and just write.

Other things that personally work for me: I try to trust my characters. If I'm struggling with a story, it's probably because it's wrong, and I need to figure out what I did wrong. Like, the characters are in the wrong place and don't want to do what I'm trying to make them do, that's why they're fighting me.

I try not to write "boring" parts. Like, if I'm bored by what I'm writing, I assume everyone else is, too. Just skip to what you want to write and write that. The "boring" part can't be too important to the story if it was boring.

If you're writing a love story, give your characters time to fall in love. That is not the boring part, I promise. If they had a good date, tell us what they talked about on the date. Write the actual dialogue. Whenever I find myself writing, "They talked for hours," I stop and think if I can put some of that conversation in. That, to me, is the important stuff.

I happen to be an auditory thinker, not a visual one. I think in words, not images. For this reason, my first drafts tend to be a lot of dialogue. When I read them over, that's when I add in beats here and there to pause the flow. A dialogue tag can be a nice beat to make the reader pause and not be overwhelmed by the conversation. If you're struggling with dialogue, sometimes I try it out loud, playing both parts.

Identify what writers you admire do well. Not just "writing." Like, I think some writers write excellent descriptions of kissing, for instance, and I wish I wrote better descriptions of kissing. Once you identify the more specific thing they're doing that you admire, really study how they're accomplishing the effect that you like. What makes that description of kissing so good? Thinking about what makes something seem "good" to you can help you to think about using those same tricks in your own writing.

My only universal rule of writing: Resist epithets. You almost never need them. Just use their name or a pronoun. It will read better, trust me.

I hope some of this is helpful!! I will say that I got a comment recently (I read ALL of your comments and they are all wonderful and also so deeply helpful to me in your reactions to things, even if I'm often terrible about responding to them, they are lifelines for me, please know I read and appreciate so much EVERY SINGLE ONE) and the comment said something like, "I used to read your Sherlock stuff! I can't believe now you're in FOB fandom! Your Sherlock stuff was fantastic, but your writing has gotten EVEN BETTER!" I put this in not to brag about this comment lol, but to say that I agree with it, I think I am a better writer now than I was ten years ago and a better writer than ten years before that. You're always getting better, because you're always practicing and learning for the next story. You might not feel like it's happening -- it's not like I'm like, "Let me go PRACTICE writing now!" -- but it will!

[mxrvelouss]

The Neighbor Across the Street **Headcanon!**

this is just a little headcanon i have for @lavendertom 's mike schmidt x reader fic! it would probably happen sometime after pt 3 but that might change once the full thing is posted! :)

warnings: mentions of drunk driving + kidnapping

note: i havent even seen the movie yet so forgive me if the characters are "off" at all 😭😭 but i rly wanted to write this bc i am delulu! ok anyways ENJOY!

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It was another night of babysitting for Abby, the little sister of Mike Schmidt. The air was chilly, but the hoodie that Mike gave you kept you warm as you walked out his front door. It was nearly morning at this point- almost 5am- but, as always, Mike stood in the doorway to make sure that you crossed the street safely. You turned and looked back at him as you neared the end of his short driveway, returning the smile that spread under his tired eyes. You tried to push away the feelings you had for him, but deep down you knew it was futile. Why else would you be grinning like a maniac as you walked away, already daydreaming about the next time you see him?

After all, you were so focused on Mike, you didn't even hear the car that was suddenly speeding down the normally quiet street.

Mike noticed it, though, and his face contorted with fear. "Watch out, y/n!" he screamed as he sprinted out of the doorway and down the driveway.

You turned to see what must've been a drunken driver speeding towards you, headlights off, but you were frozen. It probably would've ended your life if Mike didn't leap and shove you out of the way just in time.

And then you were on the ground, your back aching from the impact, staring into Mike's wild eyes. Through the pounding in your ears, you heard as Mike cussed out the driver. The car swerved down the road but eventually turned onto the next street. He turned back to you, panicked.

"Oh, my God! Y/n! Are you alright? Oh, my God, I...." His eyes were wide, and they starting to fill up with tears. You had never seen him so scared. He turned around to make sure the car was gone, and then immediately pulled you up and into a tight embrace. The two of you sat on the street, arms wrapped around each other, and he started to sob into your shoulder.

"Mike," you say quietly as you hold him tight. "Mike, I'm okay." Your heartbeat was slowing down, and now all that mattered to you was that he would be okay.

He pulls away, his hands on your shoulders. He was trembling. "If it hit you, I don't know what I would've done..."

"But it didn't hit me," you say softly. "You saved me." You knew that he had already lost so much, and you also knew the fact that you could've died or at least gotten hurt tonight was tearing him apart. You felt helpless as you stared into those dark, worried eyes, wanting nothing more than for him to be at peace.

You stand up, brushing the gravel off your jeans, and offer Mike your hand. He takes it and stands up, and you both stand there, your hands intertwined. A tear falls down Mike's cheek. "Are you sure you're okay?"

The concerned tone in his voice makes you want to cry yourself, but you hold it in. "Yes," you say as you impulsively go on your tip-toes and give him a soft kiss on the cheek. And finally, as you pull back, there is a hint of a smile on Mike's face.

"Now go and get some sleep," you say as you slowly let go of Mike's hands and turn to go to your house. He watched you make your way up the porch steps, the feeling of your lips lingering on his cheek, and then finally turned around to walk back to his house.

And this time, it was you who watched from your doorway and made sure that he crossed the street safely.

****

It was mid-afternoon of the next day. You tried to focus on studying for your cybersecurity exam that you had coming up; your laptop and textbooks were sprawled all over your bed. But all that was on your mind was Mike, and the fear that was written all over his face when he thought you could've been hurt, or worse.

And then the kiss. You couldn't believe you kissed him. Well, it wasn't a full-on kiss, but it was still something. What did he think of it? you wondered. To be honest, you weren't fully sure what to think of it yourself. Was it just out of platonic love, or...romantic? And if it was romantic...

Did he feel the same way?

You shut your hardcover textbooks with a loud thump and got up from your bed. I should go check on him, you thought. Nobody was home at the moment, so no one would question you going to see the guy whose sister you babysit. Pulling on a light hoodie and fixing your hair, you head downstairs to put on your shoes. Just as you finished tying the laces, the doorbell rings. And then, several rounds of knocking.

You rush to the door and open it, and there in the doorway is Mike. You start to smile, prepared to say that you were just about to see him, but the excitement quickly faded as you realized the panicked expression that was on his face.

"Mike? Wh-"

"Abby's gone," he frantically interrupted.

Your stomach drops.

"Wh-what?" you reply. What do you mean, 'she's gone'?!"

"She's gone!" he shouts. "I-I fell asleep on the couch while she was, I dunno, playing, and when I woke up, the front door was open and I couldn't find her anywhere."

You look at Mike, noticing how his hair was a mess, and he was in sweatpants and socks. His cheeks turn red. "I'm sorry, I just panicked and came here-"

"No!" You didn't want him to feel self-concious. None of that mattered. "What only matters right now is that we find Abby," you say with all the confidence you can muster, although now you were starting to feel your palms sweat and your body shake. Where could she be? What if she was hurt? Or...kidnapped, like Mike's brother?

No. You can't think about that right now. Closing the door behind you, you grab Mike's hand and start to pull him toward his house, where the front door was still wide open. "Maybe she's just playing hide and seek!" you say nervously. "Let's double check the house." Once you're both inside, you shout her name, checking absolutely everywhere. Behind the couch. Behind the TV. Under the kitchen table. Under her bed. Under Mike's bed. In the closet. But after about 10 minutes, she was still nowhere to be found.

In the living room, Mike was crying now, and for the second day in a row you found yourself staring into those worried eyes. You grip his arms tightly. "We're going to find her," you say with so much intensity that it suprises you. "Mike, listen to me. We will find her-"

"How could this happen?!" he suddenly screams. "First Garrett, and now- now--" He stops in his tracks as he glances at the TV, which had been on this whole time. A car commercial was playing. "Oh, my God," he mutters. "Oh, no."

"What?" you ask frantically. "What is it?!"

He turns back to you, his face pale. "The drunk driver last night. I cursed at him. What if Abby went outside while I was asleep and he came back and-" Mike looked down, tears streaming down his face. He could barely bring himself to say it, but in a quiet voice, he finishes the sentence. "...and...took her?"

"Mike, that's crazy," you try to assure him. "Why would someone do that over a curse word? I'm sure she's just nearby somewhere. Maybe she wanted to ride her bike around the block." But deep down, you feared that his statement might be true. People are crazy nowadays. And if it wasn't that driver, what if someone else took her?

"We need to call the police," you say, whipping out your phone and dialing 911. After explaining the situation, the two of you go outside and run down the street, screaming Abby's name at the top of your lungs.

Nothing. The pain and fear you feel is so strong, but it must be nothing compared to what Mike is feeling. You try to reassure him, telling him that Abby's fine, that you'll find her, but he seems to be in a different world, as if he's not hearing a word you're saying.

Several police cars pull up, and that seems to snap him out of it. You run back to Mike's house to meet with one of the officers. "The whole unit is searching the neighborhood as well as the nearby ones," he says. "All you can do right now is wait."

"Wait?" Mike says, anger rising in his voice. "My little sister is missing! I can't just wait and act like nothing's happening-"

"Mike," you try to softly interrupt. He ignores you as he keeps shouting at the officer. "You have to find her! You have to find my sister!! I can't just-"

"Mike", you say, louder this time. You set your hand on his shoulder, and he turns and looks at you. You notice the panic swirling in his eyes. "It's okay," you whisper as you pull him into a hug, wrapping your arms around his trembling, strong body. "It's all going to be okay."

*****

The two of you sit at the kitchen table, writing down everything you can think of about Mike's sister and her appearence. You also write down everything you can think of about the car from last night, but it was so dark, and it all happened so fast....

It was nearly 8pm, and there was still no sign of Abby Schmidt.

Mike stops writing and buries his face in his hands. "What if they can't find her, y/n?"

"They will," you say, but you were losing hope with each passing hour.

"I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if..."

You suddenly reach across the table and grab Mike's hand, holding it firmly. "No matter what happens, I will be here, Mike." He looks at you, and a flicker of hope flashes across his face. You continue. "I will always be here."

He looks at you, shocked. And then he gives a small smile, and you smile back, giving him a reassuring squeeze of your hand.

"Thank you, y/n," he says gratefully. A tear falls from his eyes, but you can tell that he is calming down.

Right after you let go, there's a knock at the door, and in a flash, the two of you are there. Mike quickly opens it, and you wait hopefully behind him, too scared to breathe.

In the doorway is a young woman with blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, and at her side...

Abby.

Mike lets out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God!" he says. Abby leaps into Mike's arms, and the two hug for a while. You and the officer tearfully watch, grinning at their reunion. Mike lets his sister go but still protectively holds her hand.

"What happened?" you ask, looking at both Abby and the officer.

"She was in the next neighborhood over..." The officer that Mike had talked to earlier starts to approach from behind the blonde-haired one. "Because she found this." In his arms is a big, gray cat.

Confusion registers on Mike's face, and then understanding. He starts to laugh in disbelief. "Abby!" he exclaims. "All of this...was over a stupid cat?!"

You let out a sigh of relief as well. So it wasn't the driver that abducted her... or anyone else. Thank God.

"I didn't mean to scare you!" Abby blurts. "It's just- I saw it from the window, and while you were sleeping I snuck outside to follow it...but I guess I went too far. I got lost...until Miss Vanessa found me." Abby gestures to the woman officer, and then looks back at Mike and buries her face in his shirt. "I'm so sorry, Mike..." She looks up as you through watery eyes. "You too, y/n. I didn't mean for this to happen..."

You bend down and hug both her and Mike. "It's okay," you say.

"I'm just so happy you're okay," Mike says. "But don't you EVER do that again, you hear me?"

"Or no more Freddy's for you!" you add in, causing the group to laugh. Mike stands up with tearful eyes. "Thank you, Vanessa," he says with genuine gratefulness.

"Yes," you add in. "Thank you!"

"No problem. It happens." She looks at Mike. "You have an amazing little sister right there."

Mike smiles as he pulls Abby into a side hug. "I sure do," he says.

"And she has an amazing brother," you say as you pull him in and give him another kiss on the cheek. He stares at you for a moment, and then presses his lips to yours.

"Thank you, y/n," he says as he pulls back with a smile. You smile back, blushing, but then the two of you become aware of Abby and the two officers standing right outside your door. Abby breaks the silence.

"Well, if you two can kiss, then I should be able to get the cat!" she says, half-disgusted. Everyone laughs again, and you pull the Schmidt's into a tight hug, wanting to just hold them forever and never let go.