#Im also having trouble in creative writing for some reason :(

[marinerainbow]

How are you this week? Sending love 🫶🏻

Hnnnggggg.... I survived 😅 I got tomorrow off work, so I'm hoping I can recharge a little, but... We'll see 😅 but it's really sweet you wanted to ask! ^^

How was your week? ^^

[artsandstoriesandstuff]

Also good morning everyone! :)

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hiii

Idk if you have done this before but a Morpheus x reader one where Dream has been recently set freed and is so touched deprived that when he met up with reader once mode after being separated for a century he can't control himself and it leads to some sexy stuff in which it leads to them breaking the bed (kinda like the honeymoon scene in twilight 🤭)

Just straight up desperate needy Morpheus hours 🫶🏻

Caged

Dream of the Endless x Demon Hunter!Reader

Summary: Dream has made himself believe that he is alone in the world, nothing has further solidified this that being imprisoner for a century. Who'd have thought he'd find warmth in one of the coldest people alive.

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: Fem!reader, smut (biting, marking, dom/sub dynamic, hair pulling, vaginal penetration, oral [m receiving], edging ig?, unprotected sex, brat!dream idk it just happened, praise kink [uh... reader talks to him like a god during sexy time so]), hurt/comfort ig, reader's so angry HAHAHH T_T, fluff, etc.

A/N: im not in the mood for smut but i might be when i write this. update MINORS DNI hello nonnie i am finally in the mood for smut HAHHAAHHA and i am in the mood to ruin dream's life (: i took a lot of creative liberties i have no idea why i made this so long so i hope you enjoy it my dear <3 another day another 5k smut fml Also i invented a lot of stuff for reader, like giving Morpheus a Roman name so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ just just just roll with it along with my most definitely wrong google translated Latin ok? ok. Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9 @sloanexx anOTHER one (continuation) "Petty And Yours"

"You know," I swirled a watermelon lollipop in my mouth, "you're so pathetic for that."

A breeze blew back my maxi dress and I crossed my arms at the fact I was being ignored by the uncharacteristically warmly dressed man.

The park bench he was sat in the middle off had some fallen leaves that were slowly tumbling down to the ground with the push of the wind. I give him a moment to respond. I huff at his continued silence.

"Earth to Dream?" I call louder.

Still nothing.

"Somnium Regem?"

A bird makes a sound as a large piece of bread is gobbled down its throat.

"Hey! Sulky trench coat man!" I bark.

Finally, the man feeding pigeons turns to me.

His eyes are dull and bright all at once, a shade of glistening blue that had no life behind them. I raise my brows, lips pulling upward in distaste, "you remind me of that bat in Gotham. So emo for no reason," I scoff, straightening my arms, "everyone's parents die at some point."

"Why are you here, demon hunter?" the being grips his baguette.

I scoff again, "I'm here because I like you, baby."

He turns away from me, tearing up bread, haphazardly then dropping it in front of small creatures. I grimace as the birds flock over to the bread like they had nothing better to do-- which they don't.

"I do not enjoy your bitter sarcasm, eight," Dream says pointedly.

I roll my eyes, walking over to him, fingers rolling the lollipop stick sticking by the side of my mouth, "well, if you didn't ask me stupid-" I push his legs together so that I can sit next to him, "-fucking questions, then maybe I wouldn't want to constantly drop kick you."

Dream hastily moves to the side as I plop down next to him, crossing my legs as I lean back and stretch my arm out on the backrest. I look at him as he looks at me. Wind blows at both of our hair. I move his dark strands along with the breeze so that I would not poke at his already glassy eyes.

He blankly stares.

I shrug in expectance, "Domina told me you've been sulking, and that I'd find you here, just like how she found you here days ago."

Dream blinks, "my sister should not have troubled you with needless concerns."

I furrow my brows at his response. I roll my eyes incredulously, "you are so fucking stupid."

He gives me side eye before turning back to his pigeons.

"You know, for someone who should have a profound understanding of the world, you clearly don't know anything."

The Endless hisses under his breath, "silence."

"What?" I give him a look, "don't like that?"

I can see him almost going against himself as not to sneer at my grilling.

I pout exaggeratedly and speak as though I was a child, "wha' you gon' do 'bout it? You gon' kill me now?" I raise my hands and monotonously hark, "oh no help, I'm so scared."

"I do not know why Death sent for you," he quips, breaking his gaze from the birds to narrow his eyes at me. He continues crumbling bread onto the ground.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes as I straighten and face forward, "that's because I'm the most irritating bondservant she has," I prop my elbows on my legs, "which is effective for making people want to do my bidding in return for me shutting up."

"I shall not leave," he looks to the feeding animals, "I am keeping the pigeons company," he mutters, "they appear... lonesome."

I wipe my hands on my face, pulling the lollipop out of my mouth as I sigh, "intenta et tenera domina." My eyes twitch in annoyance when I muttered 'the attentive and tender lady' in my mother tongue. "I should have known we were playing therapist today."

I shake my head, popping the candy back in my mouth, grabbing the bread from his hand. He turns to me, helplessly watching, unable to fight against me; he knows I'd bite his finger off if he touches me.

"Ever heard of projecting, Somnia?" I hiss, chucking his baguette as far off as I can.

He watches the projectile disappear into a bush.

He glares at me.

Goosebumps form on my skin when he speaks, "visne noctes noctes te affligere?"

Admittedly, the roll and click of his tongue speaking Latin did make me stiffen, though, 'do you want nightmares to plague you tonight?' was a threat so empty to me.

I sniffle, retorting in the same language, "I haven't visited your nightmarish domain since its castle walls began to crumble."

Dream takes his turn to freeze.

I tilt my head, crushing the lollipop between my teeth, "personally," I pull the stick out my mouth, tucking it in Dream's pocket, who does nothing when I do so, "I take enough trips to hell to not want to visit something that mirrors it so well. Not when I'm supposed to be dreaming of heaven."

I can see how my words strike through him.

I notice how his stoic and pale face hardens and loses its color even more.

I continue to egg him on, "I feel bad for your dreamers who think the drab ones the have at night are the best you can do."

I can almost hear the gloom radiate off him.

I purse my lips and stand, "speaking of nightmares, I caught your nightmare once," I place my hands on my hips, "I thought the gruesome serial killing was demonic in nature, so I tracked the killer, only to find it was no other than your Corinthian."

Dream looks at me, expressionless, as I raise my brows, "did you handle him, Somnium Regem?"

The Dream King looks like he does not want to talk to me at all now. I give him a challenging look and needlessly straighten out his coat for effect.

He straightens up, then brings his hands in his pocket, pulling out a skull that had teeth where his eye sockets should have been.

I look at the thing, feeling a swirl in my stomach, "poor In Oculis."

Dream visibly reacts to the Corinthian's old Latin name, The Eyeless.

He remnant of his creation disappears from the palm of his hand, "how long have you gone without sleep?"

I turn away from him, shrugging at his U-turn back into that conversation, "does it matter? I won't die."

"It matters because Somnium Regem is inquiring this of you."

I turn to him and repeat my answer, "I told you, ever since your castle began to crumble, it's just be me, myself, and coffee."

Somnia stands, towering over me, uncharacteristically high, "you have not slept in a hundred years?"

I look up at him with knit brows, "has anyone slept in a hundred years?"

"Then at once you must-"

"I'm not here-" I grab his collar, tugging him down slightly closer to me, "-to talk about my sleep pattern, Somnia. I'm here to make you stop sulking."

"That is not your forte, demon hunter," he brings his face close to mine, "perhaps if you were from the fifth."

"Fuck you," I snap, getting on my tiptoes to near his stupidly high face, "I'm good at everything."

Somnia grumbles something under his breath.

I release my grip on his coat and snap my fingers, "and besides," I raise my arms out to the side. I take one step back and allow myself to fall backwards. I then dip into the portal I conjured in the ground, swinging up until I was standing on the other side.

I turn over my shoulder, finding Dream was already standing there behind me. I grin, "I'm the only person who knows what it's like to be trapped for a hundred years."

Now in the confines of my home, I strut over to my sofa where an axe was placed and consecutively forgotten, "though, mine was eight hundred."

I turn to Dream, who suddenly looked uncomfortable.

I laugh at him, "wow. You finally feel bad for me? You used to be so indifferent when I mentioned that to you."

My eyes zero in on the note on my axe, hissing at the reminder that I meant to put it away last week. I grab the piece of paper, instinctively crumpling it. I instantly regret my innate inclination to destroy, cursing under my breath, then flattening out the thing.

"Make yourself at home, Morpheus," I rub the paper in my hand, "let me just put this thing back where it came from."

I grab the axe and prop it on my shoulder.

Dream does not make himself at home; he instead follows me as I walk to the weapons room. I give him a look, "I guess you can feed the gremlins in the basement if you want."

"I would rather follow you."

I shrug, "ok then."

I make my way down the hall, and open the light in room once I enter, revealing the age old trinkets and gadgets my family has been using since the first generation. I bring the note to a chamber that then seals the object with the rest of the artifacts like it.

Dream further scrutinizes the thing as I walk to the axe holders. "Constantine?" he says after reading what was written on the note.

I grunt as I put away the borrowed item, "the idiot wanted to borrow this," I motion to the axe in my grip, "I told her she can't touch it, touched it anyway, didn't die" I huff, after securing the axe back in its place. I place my hands on my hips as I turn to Dream, "and now I got a thank you note in return."

Dream turns back to the note that read: Thxxx -Constantine.

"Items of gratitude are the best bait for a soul suckers," I say, then pointing to a bunch of dark hued orbs on a shelf before walking over to him, "almost as good as nightmares."

I reach his side as he looks out to his gift to the sixth, the sixth generation of my family, Nightmare Marbles. They were largish glass spheres that harnesses the darkness of nightmares; a demon's equivalent to chocolate bars.

"And you relived your worst nightmare to procure so much bait, eight?" Dream whispers, turning to me with a tense expression.

I give him a look, "didn't you say my grandma from the third generation was also a sucker for punishment?"

"She did not go through her worst nightmare 78 times to make nightmare marbles."

I turn to the shelf, "damn, you managed to count all that so quickly?"

"Eight, this is-"

"What? I'm genuinely impressed!"

I freeze when he calls out my actual name. He rarely did that. In fact, there were only a few people who knew my real name and did not call me eight. Eight, as in I am from the eighth generation of demon hunters from my family. It became my name because, well, I was the only left, which was why I could not die.

I feel my belly roll at the sound. I clear my throat, weakly speaking, "what?"

"I did not gift that to your grandparents only to have you use it to punish yourself."

"Why would I want to punish myself?" I mutters, "I'm not you."

Dream is silent.

I sigh, walking out of the room, "after living out eight hundred years in hell in one fucking day, you tend to instinctively get fucked up in the brain."

I make my way down the hall, and at the end, Dream was there, already waiting for me. I give him a quick look as I pass him, "the nightmare doesn't hurt me anymore."

"Eight," he calls. I do not stop on this account. I do, however, when he asks, "why are you lying to me?"

I suck in a breath, keeping it deep in my lungs. I feel him walk up to me. I feel him take my hand.

I turn to him, sighing and brows knitting at his affection. He is still towering over me, and don't feel like craning my neck up so I don't look at him. I tighten my grip on his hand, "why are you lying to me?"

When I finally look up at him, he releases a breath. I release his hand and get on my tip toes to grab his cheeks. It was as though his glassy eyes were waiting for this moment to allow the tears to fall.

I knit my brows at the unexpected reaction. I sigh at the sight of him.

"I did not lie to you," he responds like a secret.

"Really?" I speak in disbelief as I wipe tears on his cheeks, "was it the pigeons that were lonesome, or you?"

"... both..."

I fall back onto my feet, hands trailing down to his chest, "you're right. I suck at... comfort..." I take the lapels of his coat between my fingers, "only cause I'm rough around the edges. Sorta like you," I hum, raising a brow at him, "except I can admit to it, whereas you-"

I push his chest, making him walk back all the way to the sofa my axe was moments ago. I force him down, and down he goes, bouncing on the cushion. He looks up at me as I pull away and give him a soft smile, "you need that coaxed out of you."

I was meant walk away from him, but he grabs my thigh before I can.

"Non potes exspectare dicere tale quid me derelinquas."

You cannot expect to say such a thing then leave me.

I look at the hand hooked behind my thigh. I raise my brow quizzically, "I have work."

"I am your work," he says, other hand coming to my other thigh, "your Lady commanded you to take care of me."

I snort, grabbing his chin, "no, she told me to make you stop sulking."

"Yes, she did," he hums, hands trailing down my legs, grabbing the ends of my skirt.

"You were literally crying a moment ago."

"You're a tear in my heart."

"That's a twenty one pilots song."

"And I am eager for you to make me stop sulking."

Dream's eyes are fixed on me s he leans in and begins bunching up the fabric in his palms, slowly bringing them up with his hands.

I release a sigh when his hands make it back where it was before, though perhaps a bit higher this time. I place my hands on his arms, stopping him from continuing. He turns stills like a statue before me.

I nibble my lower lip before speaking, "if we're going to do this, we do this in my terms."

His lips instantly curve up in response. He nods slowly, "in imperio tuo."

On your command.

I push him back upon hearing that, a lump in my throat forming at the words from my mother tongue. I quickly climb on to him, straddling his legs, fingers combing into the roots of his hair by his nape.

I immediately lock his lips with mine. His hands work much quickly this time around, ripping my skirt all the way up, making me raise my hands so that he can pull my dress off me.

I moan against him when his hands begin to scratch up my back. He moans against me when I grind down on him.

I pull away, catching my breath so I could take my turn in undressing him. He moves to help me rid of his ridiculous coat and when he grips his shirt, I hiss at him, giving him a stern look, "don't spoil my fun."

I then push myself off him and bunch up his shirt in my hand, dragging him all the way back to my bedroom.

Once we're there, I push him onto my bed and crawl on top of him, perching on top of his groin, slowly digging my hands into his sides, underneath his clothes.

I reveal his stomach to me, pressing my fingers down the middle of his skin, "so pretty."

His hand trail up my thighs, kneading at the flesh, humming, "yes," he tugs at my panties, "you are quite exquisite."

I chuckle, lips curving into a smile, "aww, you're going to make me blush," I swat at his hands, "hands off."

He reluctantly obeys.

At this point, I rid him off his shirt and his hands immediately move to come back to my thighs. I swat him away again, to crawl down and begin to attentively kiss his chest.

I sigh against him as his hands come to my sides. I feel the purr-like sounds he produces as I suck and graze my teeth on his muscly pec. I hum in approval when I pull away and see the blazing red mark I left on his burning white skin, "if you morph my art off your body, I will give you nightmares."

I begin working on his skin again when he laughs at my words. I feel the vibration on my lips. He rubs my shoulder with his hand, "a titillating thought."

I look at him from where he was looking down at me and bite down on the side of his ribcage. He grunts in response. I raise a brow at him, "it's a threat, Somnia."

His eyes darken, where mine sparkle.

Without warning, he pulls my head back by my hair, and pushes himself up by his other arm, "who do you think you're threatening, child?"

I wince, chuckling under my breath, "clearly this wanton creature beneath me."

He pulls me back by my hair more as he sits up all the way. I make a sound as he grabs my thigh and skids me closer on him.

Dream brings his face close to mine, nostrils flaring, as if in warning.

I chuckle, licking his lips, "remember, sweetling," I tug on his lower lip, releasing it to say, "on my command."

He sucks in a deep breath.

I raise a brow, "you wouldn't want me to leave you, now do you?"

He sighs, releasing my hair.

I push him back down, clicking my tongue as I do so, "naughty boy," I chastise, "wanting to take the reins so badly."

I begin to undo his pants, holding in my laugh at the visible imprint on him, "maybe I should take precautions before undoing you, hmm?"

I push myself off him and leaning to my side. His hands take hold of my waist as I grab something from my bedside table. I look down on him with a grin as his hands knead at me. I shake my head, "off."

Dream stills.

"Get your hands off me, Dream."

He obeys and so I take both his wrists in front of me. The golden serpent bracelet begins to then slither around his wrists. He watches this contraption shackle him and grunts, "you mock me, demon hunter."

I chuckle, moving off him, "well, you're being quite difficult."

Dream helplessly watches as I get off the bed and walk to the side of the room. I hear him try to rip at his cuffs. I laugh as I grab a silver spear, "that was a gift from Jupiter. Try not break it."

I then plummet my spear at the base of my bed. I wiggle a finger at Dream, beckoning him over, "now come over, beloved Somnia."

He does not struggle as he crawls over to me with bound hands.

"On your back," I say, "hands up."

Dream does just that, rolling on his back, bringing his bound wrists to the spear where the serpent then begins to constrict itself.

"Very good, my king."

The king makes a sound of distaste, which I heartily laugh at.

I waste no more time and quickly go to him, ridding him of his remaining clothing like a kid on Christmas morning.

My lips involuntarily part at the size of him, "fuck. I forgot you made yourself... bigger."

I find offence when he chuckles and croons, "will this be a problem?"

"No," I quip quickly.

"Very good, then," he smiles.

I mock, "very good then."

Once it was now just me, him, and his pulsing length, I begin my ministrations. I crawl back on him and grin, grabbing his hardened member, "not quite a watermelon lollipop but-" I cut myself off and take him in my mouth.

He heavily breathes out and shuts his eye. I giggle in approval over his reactions, one hand coming to my core, already slickened with arousal.

I lap my tongue around him before taking him deeper. I press both my hands on his thighs when his legs begin to stir.

I dig my nails into his hips and slowly constrict my teeth around him as I bob my head up and down him. In a sort of challenge for myself, I make an attempt to take him all. The moment he hits the back of my throat however, I begin to struggle and will myself to relax to further take him in.

When I begin to gag, I pull myself off and catch my breath, leaning my weight into, "you did this on purpose," I scoff, "you knew this would happen."

"I am not omniscient," he laughs, "I did not foresee this-"

"Oh fuck you," I cut him off, "I'm going to fucking make you cry."

Oh, you can bet that he found that funny.

His laughter was cut off when I removed my underwear, chucking my panties and bra to where ever, then mounted myself on him. I am glad I am wet enough to take him in but I cannot withhold the whine that I tried to conceal as I did so. Fuck him and his magnum cock.

Well... that was what I was doing.

Once I am on him, he lets out a moan and the pulls at his shackles, making the snake bracelet glow and constrict tighter on him.

I take my turn to laugh this time around, and my core, which was still busy adjusting to the size of him, flutters around him. I don't say it as self-satisfied as I wanted to, "serves you right."

He calls out my name. It makes my stomach roll.

I fell him slowly rock his hips into me and I push down on his chest, whining at his attempts, "stop! Stop! Give me a fucking chance."

He instantly stops and looks up at me with a worried look, "I apologize, I-"

"Shut the fuck up," I shake my head, "the more you speak, the more I want to fuck you up."

Dream presses his lips into a thin line, but he obeys.

After a while, I allow myself to ride him like an eager jockey.

I rock myself on him at a slow pace. I heave in and out at the overwhelming feel of him. My toes curl at the bundle of nerves he hits every time he fills me up to to my fucking stomach.

I sigh as I rub on my sensitive nub as I press my weight forward. I close my eyes and chew on my lip at the sensations. I drag my flesh out of my teeth as I begin to feel pressure build within me.

"More," Dream whines, craning his head up to look at me.

I look down on him, narrowing my eyes, "pretty boys like you don't ask," I mutter, "they beg."

I push my hands on his chest and lean down to give him a kiss, all while keeping the slow pace of my thrusts. When he meets me halfway to take my lips in his, I dodge him, then rub my nose on his, "I said beg. Beg for me."

He moves his head closer to catch my lips, and I pull all the way back, sitting up again to look down on him in disappointment. He whines, pulling his arms, making my contraption glow and constrict all over.

He drops his head in defeat. I chuckle.

"Beg," I call out louder.

Dream gulps, "please."

"What?"

"Please."

"Please, what?" I cease the roll of my hips, "please stop?"

He heaves, lifting his head back up, ripping at his wrist, "please don't stop."

"Mmm," I nod, "but I'm a little confused, my lord," I massage my breasts, "what exactly should I be doing?"

He watches my hands for a moment. I'm amused it actually distracts him. I chuckle, "Earth to Dream?"

Dream sighs.

"Somnia?" I drag out.

"Move your hips," he says breathlessly.

I hum, pretending to debate his words.

"Please," he adds, making me smile.

I rub my wetness on him, "you mean like this?"

Dream sighs, gulping roughly, "no."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, but I have no idea what you mean, my king," I pout, making no attempt to give him what he so clearly wanted.

"Thrust into me," he sputters, "ride me like an eager jockey."

I snort, breaking into a laugh. I feel a rush shoot through me. My hands come up to my cheeks, "you heard that?" I giggle, "dirty, dirty boy, listening to my thoughts."

"Please," he strains, pulling at his binds again. He drops his head, huffing, "please move."

"Well, now that you're asking me so nicely," I muse, shifting on him, hands falling back on his chest. I begin to move up and down, slow and steady, emptying out and getting filled right back in with his stiffened length.

He moans in approval, eyes closing in pleasure. I sigh and lick my upturned lips, "better, baby?"

"Yes," he drags out a breath, "yes, thank you."

I groan at his words, moving a bit faster, "oh fuck, that's hot. Am I making you feel good?"

"Yes. Very good."

I whine, "fuck."

As I move on him, I savor his feel, how he's deliciously stretching me out and how my insides were sucking him in.

I momentarily slow when I hear a strained crackling sound in front of me. What the fuck was that?

It takes me about two seconds to realize it was my bracelet. Oh fuck.

I feel my inside flutter at the possible threat literally about to unravel before me. I lick my lips, "you enjoying yourself, Dream?"

He only moans in response.

"That's not an answer, darling?" I hum, slowing down all over again.

His eyes break open and his jaw tenses. I hear a fucking cracking sound. Is that my spear or my bracelet?

"Come on, use your words, Prince of Stories."

"I want you to move faster," he mutters gutturally.

What the fuck, is that my floor?

"Please?"

I dig into the side of his ribs and give in to his pleas. He moans and shuts his eyes again, but the strain on my bracelet does not waver. I watch as the object burns brighter.

I whimper when Dream begins to move beneath me. I tear my gaze from his wrists to his face, scowling at him, "behave."

To my surprise, he obeys, then whispers, "please kiss me."

I coo at his sentiment, feeling my core for him. I lean over and plant my lips on him. I moan at the feel of his tongue sneaking into my mouth.

I bring my grip onto the mattress and begin moving faster than I have yet. I whine and pull away from him to catch my breath, "giddy fucking up horsey."

It takes me a second to realize what I just fucking said.

The next moment, I grunt and find myself giggling. I crack myself up with how wholeheartedly stupid and dick delirious I've become. As I continue to laugh, I find myself slowing to prioritize my amusement while I screw my eyes shut.

I was soon very clear that it was a poor choice.

All at once, there was a loud snapping sound. The moment I opened my eyes, I behold a broken bracelet and a bent spear. Oh, yeah, and he unamused Dream of the Endless that was now slowly sitting up in front of me.

I release a final chuckle.

My sounds go dry as his hands take my hips and he brings his face closer to me, "I do not appreciate the fact you're so easily distracted while making love to me, my dear."

I grunt when he bucks into me. My arms wrap around his shoulders as my voice hikes up with his movements. I wrap my legs around his torso as I mumble halfheartedly, "we're not making love, we're... we're fucking."

He groans at that, moving in to kiss me feverously. I whine when his fingers rub at my core. Dream pulls away, forehead resting on mine, "you mock me so readily."

"Yeah," I huff, "well you deserve-"

I choke on my next words as I plummet back into my bed where Dream takes the reins fully, rocking into at a tempo that pleased him, and, well, me.

I mindlessly call his name, legs and arms wrapping around him as he moderately fucks into me. My bed creaks at his force.

It doesn't take long for him to speed up.

I whine and screw my eyes shut.

"Is this a good pace? Am I pleasing you?" he mutters against my neck.

I open at the sound of his words. He did not speak with the same taunting tone I had. He asks me this in genuine inquiry, genuinely intent on finding out if he was, in fact, pleasing me.

I pepper his jaw with kisses then nibble on his earlobe before replying, "yes, my sweet boy," I moan, "you can move a little faster if you want to."

"I want to," he quickly responds.

I sigh, "then faster, baby."

He moans and kisses me in response. His movements rip out a deep cry from deep within me as he hastens.

"That's it," I struggle, one hand digging into his unruly hair, pulling at it, "you're doing so good for me. So good."

The king growls against me, sucking at my neck, just below my jaw.

"Fuck," I sigh, "dulcis somnium meum."

My sweet dream.

He adjusts me beneath him, hands coming to thighs, squeezing the area as he presses deeper, "you feel so good around me."

My toes curl at his words and my skin breaks out in goosebumps at his hot breath.

"Pretiosum venatorem," Dream dictates 'my precious hunter,' sucking on the base of my throat, "such beautiful sounds."

My breath quickens with his actions. I roll my head back as my fingers dig into his spine.

"Dic quomodo sentio," he breathes against me, "quaeso."

Tell me how I make you feel... please.

"Good," I whimper, "great," I whine, "et stupri magna." So fucking great.

"Beautiful," he retorts, "so beautiful like this, so beautiful beneath me."

I feel myself coil up around him. He seems to feel it too, since his one hand leaves my thigh to rub at my pulsing heat.

He muses to me in Latin. He speaks poetry to me in my native tongue, praising my lips, my breath, my warmth, and how I was taking him so well.

I return his poetry with deep grunts and age old curses that would make the Roman deities shun me in sore displeasure.

And yet Somnia kisses me, practically eating up my vile words like honey and delivers me into pure adoration, pure fucking ecstasy.

I yelp when I break beneath him. I whine and rip at him, teeth digging into his shoulder, legs constricting around him tighter. The sensation is further intensified when I feel him release into me, pace now maddeningly fast, brutal, and delicious.

"Yes, Dream!" I call, helplessly spiraling under him. "Praise to the Dream Lord," I find myself whining in Latin as I ride out my high and quiver out all the breath that's left in my lungs.

He moans, kissing my cheek, replying in the same language, "I accept you adoration." He takes a moment before dragging out my name from his lips. It makes my stomach roll even further and my body tense tighter.

The Dream Lord takes my thighs into his hands again as he rides the both of us through our peaks, brutal yet caring all at once.

I melt into a bag of boneless flesh the next moment.

When he eventually relents, I catch my breath against his jaw, rubbing my nose on his skin affectionally.

Once he is stagnant above me, he turns to me and places kiss on my lips. After a moment, he pulls away and opens his mouth to speak. He doesn't get to however, as suddenly my bed creaks and all at once, one leg snaps and I squeal as we both slide roughly down to the floor.

I cling onto him for dear life as he pushes up against me, both keeping us from falling any further and poking into the root of my womanhood. My mouth releases a lewd cry in response.

I catch my breath as he lifts his head up and surveys the damage.

"Did you," I pant, "fucking break my bed?"

Dream turns to me, lips barely parting, "I..." he starts, "my apologies."

[1eoness]

Could you make a Dom!Leon x trans ftm reader NSFW fic with some fluff thrown into there?

୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ author rambling; HI i am eating pineapple rn and i never forgot this request. just to clarify and for some context, i dont have experience of writing !reader anything out of sub afab so im sorry if this is super inaccurate or inapplicable or unsatisfying and im open to criticism on this :( :) idk im so sorry aghdfhdsfhdj i really need to work on this. oh and i read some ftm smut for this so ty to those writers :> pls criticize anything off (with reason ofc). [btw i feel like this is super bad im sorry im not feeling creative rn i have writers block :((( ]

anyway 'DOM!LEON KENNEDY X TRANS FTM READER NSFW WITH SOME FLUFF THROWN IN THERE' COMING UP. i'm sorry this took so long for such short content too :(

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

cw: fluffy dom!leon kennedy, trans ftm!reader (w/ bottom surgery) [i can always redo this if you don't like me mentioning top/bottom surgery]. praise, oral (reader receiving)

synopsis : re4r leon and he loves u and ur worried little face and he's gonna kiss it better (and fuck it better, maybe).

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -♡- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

leon loves you. he knows you're constantly worried over him being troubled over his trauma but he wants you to know, between every crevice of his clouded thoughts, that he loves you and it's the surest thing he knows. it's hard to admit but even when he loses himself, it will always, and forever be clear to him that you have his heart and there's a reason why.

you were about to get under the covers to go to sleep (after a day that felt longer than it should be.). though, you lowered your headphones to the lower end of the volume once you saw leon through the bedroom doorway.

"baby, i wanna tell you something." leon said, his quiet and soft voice only going a decibel higher as he crawls to you on your bed. he hated seeing you about to sleep with such a worried look on your handsome face.

you thought he didn't notice? even if you're his neutral-faced boy, he knows when the air around you feels more somber than usual. "do you ever feel.."

"like a plastic bag?" you quipped quickly. (i'm sorry if you don't get it)

"no, damn it." leon's mutter-reply followed with a quiet chuckle that you echoed. he likes that about you, your incessant annoying humor (but you'll never beat him in that). he sighs, and tries again. "you know, like... you're kind of.. stressed over someone else's troubles?"

to be honest, he doesn't really know how to go about it. he doesn't want you to think you're burdening him—though, you could never ever make him feel like that. leon nears you, hovering above you and adoring your face wherever his mind runs. for some reason, before you guys go to sleep he just does this. he also likes talking to you before you both go to sleep ♡.

you hum, just a little bit sleepy. "what do you meann?" you ask quaintly, and leon's heart melts at the tone of your slightly languid voice. you sounded so cute. a rather random yet soft laugh escapes before he dips down to give you a small kiss on your cheek.

"...y/n, i'll just be straight—i don't want you going to bed looking so.. upset." leon mutters softly, rubbing over the skin of your cheekbone with his thumb. maybe he shouldn't have gone into detail how heavy his mission felt. because when he was done talking, you gave him some short comfort and impulsively stood up and said that you needed to wash the dishes (and the dishwasher was literally running when you said that).

at first he thought he did something wrong and upset you, and the guilt immediately seeped in. naturally, he didn't want it to go undiscussed, that would murder him! so he went to find you ASAP. but when he went to check on you in that dim kitchen, he saw you with your back turned and trying to silence your tears. apparently, you felt so bad for him it was enough to hurt you, too. you were just too sweet—leon also felt bad. he gave you some space for a bit, though he's sorry because he really wants to be there for you and he can't afford to leave you by yourself sometimes :(

you looked a little to the side from his forward words. you didn't really know what to say in response, you were just.. tired, and also worried. leon understands this, picking up on it and showing it by giving you a reassuring, subtle smile. he wants to see you smiling, too, and he knows just how to do it. it's his favorite thing about his little boy ♡.

"..come, baby." he coos quietly as he began to take a hold on either sides of your face, knowing you don't need discussion right now. maybe loving is enough. and loving you is a way of reassuring himself, you just need to accept that :( so you be good for him and let him give you the praise you deserve (and so much more).

he kisses you on the forehead first. he loves cradling your handsome little face, placing safe pecks all over it. especially on that spot a little adjacent from under your eyes. leon hums when his lips reach your jaw, peppering it with innocent love. but will it really only go that far? "because you're the most perfect boy ever." he reasons hushedly, his left hand holding the side of your neck and caressing it gently.

oh, it's going to be one of those nights where he kisses you all over and doesn't leave you alone.. but you know better than to complain.

"y're so clingy..." you decided to joke, though you both knew you loved it. while you giggled at his antics, you can feel him smiling into the skin of your neck. he's so ready to spoil you rotten.. and you had no idea:( ♡

he moves his broad hands under your shirt, handling your being with tutelage. the fuss of the sheets make hush noise as he moves downwards, worshipping your body along the way by placing kisses over your clothed stomach. "...so?" he laughs softly against the skin of your lower inner thigh, the fluttery feeling of his lips planting a kiss on it making you shudder. he sees you, and how you turn so bashful all of a sudden.

"..tickles?" leon mumbles amusedly.

"yeah-" you mutter in response before he abruptly did it again on your stomach this time, which made you giggle. you were just too precious to him!

he holds your thighs in his hands for a minute, resting his head against your left thigh. you see the muscles on his arm flex subtly while he does so, your stomach tumbling at witnessing his strength at such a mild moment. for a minute he just gazes at you fondly, a hinting coyness hiding beneath his expression.

you were making it so tough for him. he just wants to kiss you all over . hell, he might even want to merge corporealities with you.

he doesn't speak, his eyes trailing down to your pelvic area while unnoticeably smirking to himself. you were so cute to him, so what else can he do but lift your thighs over his broad shoulders?

but he looks up at you, immediately. his fingertips are teasing at the hem of your bottom clothing, insinuating what he wants to do for you as he lightly taps at your skin. "baby, may i?" he asks with a sudden comforting tone. he'll never make you do something you don't wanna do. but like said, if you accepted, there's no promise that he's going soft on you.. but that's because he just wants you to be all nice and happy! a very innocent motive ♡

"mhm.." you hummed lowly, willingly giving him your greenlight. and has leon said he loves you?

"thank you, love.." he mutters shortly in reply before pulling your pajama bottoms just a little down. down enough for him to free your pretty shaft. he sees you blushing, covering the bottom half of your face with your sleepy hands.

and this man.. was so hard to predict!

the soft hunk of a man wants to wrap his right arm around your abdomen, pull your hips up to his face. "leon!-" you gasp abruptly with that same low voice.

"shhh, baby." leon mumbled while his left hand snaked around to cage your right thigh firmly to his shoulder. his knees dip on the comforters, pulling his boy's lower body up like he was challenged to lift a feather.

you quickly brought your hands up to take your headphones off, but leon suddenly spoke when you pried the muffs off your ears.

"keep them on." he cuts your actions off. the subtle demand of his tone says you're going to keep them on. he, somehow, reaches to turn the volume up on your headphones. you were puzzled, not knowing what he was aiming to do with such-

"a-aah!-" you yelped in utter surprise. a dribble of spit threads from his pretty lips and down onto your length..

he's hunched over as he takes your tip, then more in his mouth. he glances at your dumbfounded eyes, and you swear you could see him smirking to himself. but before you could think further, he was suddenly suckling onto your cock so firmly you started to squirm.

but that's why leon's holding you so tightly, so you can take it the way he needs you to~

you felt restricted. leon wants to steal your senses, inject pleasure in your veins like he were trying to fucking save you. he's beginning to get so hard that it makes him whine against your shaft, and he's so hard that you're making it difficult for him to think rationally.

"l-leonn! slow down!~" you cried without sense, which only urged his fingers pressing into your skin as he held you in place. he takes an inch further, his mouth working eagerly, making sure you can understand his carnal urge of making you cum with his mouth. "uh-uhh!-.... nghhh-hh..."

"mhmm..mmmm..." he hummed roughly, following with a soft growl as he slurped you up stupid. you kept moving. why were you moving so much? you were so sleepy just a minute ago.. oh, well; leon thinks. but is this man really oblivious to the fact that he can make you feel so, so good?

of course he wasn't. your erotic whines got louder and louder by the minute as your headphones disabled you from being conscious of your tone at all. your voice fell muffled upon your ears but leon was devouring it, using your moans and sobs as a motive to eat you up until you're heart-eyed. you couldn't even make sense of the music anymore as leon's mouth clouded your empty mind.

i'm gonna drown you in pleasure, baby.. leon thinks to himself while he's busy adoring you and the way your cock twitches onto his tongue :(

you were flailing slightly while leon went down on you, seeing you and your eyes struggling to keep open. he trails his left hand up and down your thigh, the sensation feeling a little ticklish. your chest rose and fell warmly, trying to reach out to stop him with a weak hand but he wouldn't let you and he feels (mildly) sorry. but it doesn't make him halt— he looks at you with sweet eyes that say 'please cum for me~'

you whined weakly at this, voice going raspy as you full on started to cry. you felt so vulnerable and so good at the same time and you trusted leon so much. you could feel it, could feel him about to siphon your orgasm out of you. just the way he wanted it..

the faucet began to spill and you were crying, the tears trickling down your cheeks messily and around your headphones, too. leon looked at you with mostly with affection, but also with a bit of sympathy. you must've had such a hard time, huh? he's so happy he can make you feel better..

"u-uhh, f-fuck, leon!! n-nno- nggh..a-ahh!-" you didn't even know what you were blabbering or retorting for anymore, but your hips twitched in his grip as you began to tremble within the fuzzy feeling of your orgasm. you were being such a pretty boy for him like this, all sensitive and crying after one minor blowjob. how were you going to handle the rest of the night like this?

it was hard to ignore his boner at this point. "mm..mhh, fuck- such a good boy f'me, huh?" he groans while he sucks on you at a slower pace, trying not to overwhelm you too hard (but still overwhelming you :( he's sorry, he swears.). "god, you're so cute.. but you have him so horny and frustrated now, what did you just do to this boy? he isn't frustrated at you.. but..

he isn't letting go of your thighs any time soon.

[daemour]

Pairing: bae jinyoung x tutor! f! yn

Word Count: 1976

Warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol consumption and drugs, mentions of sex, kissing

Genre: Angst, fluff, f2l au, college au, m for mature

Summary: You're popular, pretty, top of your class. It's no surprise you've ended up tutoring Bae Jinyoung, your opposite in many ways. But your feelings for him grew out of your control and you try to find him at the biggest end of year party

-

this is for the jackson wang party fic collab finished with @mingsolo (hella good), @flurrys-creativity (Pygalgia, Effervescent, and Abience), and @sanjoongie (trouble) ^^ this was supposed to have smut but i couldn't get it out im sorry :') you can just imagine it in ur head pls

and ignore the difference in wc from this and my san one :') i did not have the energy to write another 10k so this ones short and sweet lol

Also the banner was made like 2 username changes ago lol

You can read the San one here (No Hesitation)

-

It’s late…at least for you. Judging from the people milling about with ease, they’re a lot more accustomed to being awake at unholy hours of the night. A couple of them even cast curious glances at you, unused to seeing you at a party. And you can’t blame them either. You’re the college’s well-known “good girl”, volleyball captain and top of your college batch. You’ve been to exactly one party your entire four years here and it was because your roommate, Yeseul, threw it without telling you.

She’s not at this party, too embarrassed to show her face after being dumped by the school playboy, San. You’d feel bad but she kinda deserved it after bragging to everyone how she bagged him. And if she went with you, she’d make it such a huge deal when you want to lay low. You came to this party for one reason after all…to find Bae Jinyoung.

Once again, something you never thought you’d be doing. Jinyoung is the complete opposite of you in every way. Always partying, and getting high, his list of cons goes on and on. But when you were paired up with him to tutor in a last-ditch effort to not get expelled, you didn’t expect to grow so close to him. And maybe you’ve grown to have a soft spot for him.

He had to retake his final exam due to a stomach bug (he was hungover, but you decided not to let his professor know that fact) and you were told his test results early. He had passed after months of hard work, and you were too excited to keep it from him. 

You called him first, and he picked up, but he was clearly drunk, living it up at what you heard was the last party of the year. And against your better judgement, you decided to go tell him the good news in person, perhaps after getting him a little more sober. And you’re maybe a little stupid, hoping he would come sweep you off your feet and kiss you senseless, but a girl can dream. Maybe when you tell him the good news, he’ll lift you and swing you around just like in all your romance books and fall in love.

You’re once again reminded of just how out of place you are as you weave through the crowd. As you look around, you can’t help but be amused at how you must look so lost. You’re not looking where you’re going properly and you bump into a broad chest.

When you look up, you’re met with the furrowed brows of the other Jinyoung of the college, Park Jinyoung, recognisable from his stone-cold features and his signature turtleneck. The only thing he shares with your Jinyoung is the name. Whereas your Jinyoung was mixed up in all sorts of trouble, ranging from drugs to drinking to sex, Park Jinyoung kept to himself, except for this one girl he seemed to have conflicted feelings for. You’ve seen him look at her like she made the stars, only to push her away when she turns her attention towards him. And case in point, when you mutter out a sorry he barely pays attention to you, muttering her name under his breath. Looks like you’re not the only one looking for someone tonight.

You try and ask around a bit, and while some classmates do their best to narrow down Bae Jinyoung’s location for you despite their inebriated state, most of them are just too shell-shocked to see you here and they can’t mask their confusion.

“YN? I didn’t expect to see you here.” A familiar voice catches your attention and you turn to see Choi San standing before you, his hair ruffled and his signature smile on his face. There’s a hint of sadness in his eyes, but you don’t know him well enough to enquire about it.

“Ah, hello, San. I hope you’re doing well after…all that’s happened.” It’s no secret that San broke up with Yeseul because of his roommate. To your credit, you manage to hold back your curiosity and instead just ask him a question pertaining a bit more to your own dilemma. “Have you seen Jinyoung? Bae, not Park.”

San shrugs. “I’m doing well, yes. I can’t stay long, but I think I saw Jinyoung near the living room. It’s through there, you can’t miss it. Lots of couches…and lots of people kissing.”

You absolutely miss the warning tone in his voice, but your heart is already beating a little too fast for your own good at the idea of seeing Jinyoung again. “All right, thanks San!” You start walking the other way, but something nags at you and you spin around, calling out his name before he steps away. “And San…I want to apologise for Yeseul. You should go for your friend. She looks at you the same way.”

There’s a moment’s pause, then San quirks his lips at you. “Thanks, YN. I think I will. Good luck with Jinyoung.”

You laugh and salute him before turning back to continue on your way. With each step, you can feel excitement rush past your ears. You know it’s a horrible idea, but you’ve grown fond of Jinyoung. Maybe it was how all the rumours surrounding him were less than satisfactory, but he never showed you anything but kindness and quietness when you tutored him. Maybe it was the way he leapt at any chance to talk about football to you, and how his smile would light up any room.

And maybe it was when he finally convinced you to let loose and take a study break with him, you found out he kisses gently, large hands cupping your face as his breath puffs over your lips. His touches are soft, ghosting over your waist as you sit beside him, and you feel special.

“Jinyoung–” you call out, entering the room San had pointed out to you, but you stop dead in your tracks. You’ve found him. Bae Jinyoung, sitting on the couch, a girl in his lap and his tongue deep in her mouth. It’s not nearly as sweetly as he kissed you, and yet your stomach drops. It’s stupid to be hurt, you remind yourself. You stare for a moment longer, eyes glued to how the girl is grinding on him so well and you feel a tightness in your throat you can’t seem to dislodge.

And it’s almost like slow motion when Jinyoung turns his head and makes direct eye contact with you. His mouth drops open, more than it was before and like the coward, you turn tail and run right back out of the room.

You push through the people crowding you and out one of the back doors. In the distance, you can see a figure floundering in the lake, soaking wet, but you can’t be bothered to be curious about the sight. You should’ve known this was going to happen. You catch feelings, and Jinyoung doesn’t, and you make a fool of yourself. How could you be so dumb? It’s clear what happened. You were just another conquest, another prize for him to win.

“YN!” You can hear Jinyoung’s familiar cadence float from the house and you glance back, seeing him try and get to you through the people milling about. “YN wait!”

There’s desperation in his voice, but your brain does not register it and you just turn away, heading towards the line of cars parked far into the grass. You didn’t park there, but it should give you enough cover as you make your way to the next street over where your car actually is.

Your eyes are trained forward, and you refuse to look back even as Jinyoung’s panicked footsteps get closer and closer to you. “YN, please!” You hesitate just for a moment, but it’s long enough for him to catch up to you and grab your arm gently. “Please look at me, YN.”

You turn around, but keep your eyes trained on the ground lest you cry, especially after seeing his face. “What’s up?” It’s almost sick how sweetly your voice sounds as it breaks.

“YN, I’m sorry.” The desperation has not left Jinyoung’s voice, and his hands move to your shoulders, gripping them tightly as if that would convince you he meant no harm. And maybe he didn’t. But it’s not his fault you’ve fallen in love with an unobtainable thought.

“Why are you sorry?” you respond, trying your hardest to keep your voice level, although it tremours just a bit when Jinyoung sucks in a breath. “I can’t stop you from…parties, and kissing. I’m just a nobody.”

Jinyoung shakes his head, his long hair falling in his eyes but he makes no move to brush it away. “You’re anything but a nobody, YN. You’re pretty and perfect, and you have so much going for you. You have a job already lined up, you have plans for your future. I’m the one who’s a nobody.”

You laugh. “We could go around in circles, Jinyoung. You’re not a nobody, not to me. And not to that girl. It’s okay that I’m not who you want me to be. I can only kiss you sweetly, I can’t desire you in the same carnal way she does, no matter how much I want to. And there’s no way you want to waste time teaching me how to not be dumb and innocent.”

Jinyoung frowns, just as pretty as his smile is. “I do, YN. I do, more than you can know. I want to take you on dates and kiss you on the beach. I want to have coffee in the morning with you. I just want to hold you. And I love it when you’re innocent and sweet.”

“But that girl–”

“Screw that girl!” You flinch a little at his volume and Jinyoung pauses, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “We were drunk, and I was just missing you a little too much. It was a mistake. I should’ve have tried to run from my problems. I– when you called me, I should’ve dropped everything and gone to find you, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to let myself want you. But I do.”

You breathe in sharply through your nose. “I don’t want to make you change…” you start to protest carefully, although your resolve is breaking by the second.

Jinyoung shakes his head, leaning in so his face is mere breaths away from yours. “I want to change, YN. So please, let me.”

“I–” Against your better judgement, you look him in the eyes, noticing the shaking wateriness of them. “Okay.”

The tension in Jinyoung’s face pinches before finally dissipating, easing the lines in the skin. “Okay,” he copies you. “Okay. YN, can I kiss you?”

His question comes so suddenly, you swear your heart stopped beating for a moment. You barely get a yes out before Jinyoung’s lips capture yours again. And if you thought your first kiss was sweet, this is a million times sweeter. His hands find their way to the small of your back this time and push you closer to him, your arms naturally finding their way around his lithe shoulders. The movement makes the kiss deepen as his mouth presses eagerly against yours.

“I missed you,” he hums against your lips and you sigh happily.

“Must’ve been hard, benign away from me for a whole five days,” you can’t help but tease and Jinyoung groans good-naturedly.

“Man, you’re so mean to me. What happened to being all nice and innocent?” With a smile, you shove your face into Jinyoung’s neck. Jinyoung bends down to press a kiss to your temple. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I think we’re long overdue a talk.”

You sigh. “We are.”

[interstellar-productions]

So this is probably unimportant to anyone who reads this but i feel like i need to explain my though process here, I’m a psych major specializing in abnormal psych with interest in creative writing and art. Very much an art, science and history girlie. Im saying this so there’s some context to the way I visualize certain things.

I want to elaborate on my view of the foxes in a less scientific and more artistic view, metaphors and imagery.

I see Aaron very much as someone who internalizes his hurts. My brain conjures up the example that as he was growing up he was the type that every time a piece of him cracked off he picked it up, at first perhaps to use as a weapon. Taking the jagged edge and using it to lash out but that only got him bad things growing up with Tilda. (Who I imagine as the embodiment of catholic guilt, she knows what she’s doing is wrong but she’s so consumed by her hatred and bad choices the only way she can internalize it is through violence. Specifically directed at Aaron.) So as he got a little older he took those edges and hurt himself with them.

Aaron would have known from living with Tilda that physical marks raise questions that cause trouble, so it wouldn’t have been the same form of self harm that Andrew and some of the others used. But he i image he would have taken those edges and used them to hurt himself mentally, self hatred and self harm that doesn’t leave lasting marks.

Then Andrew and Nicky and Luther start getting in the picture. Tilda was always to strung out to notice and the men she brought around didn’t care. So Aaron learn to carefully shave the edges of his jagged pieces down, purposefully cutting up the parts of himself that remain and taking tape to stick it all back together. Trying to form some semblance of a human being that wont make people ask questions. The pieces don’t fit right though, some pieces are still jagged, some pieces are too smooth, some he cut down too much to be able to put them back right.

By the time AFTG is taking place Aaron has probably caused himself so much damage by trying to self internalize he issues that he more so resembles a stained glass piece before its soldered together. Just pieces that loosely sort of fit together that might be something one day but could also just as easily smash into a million pieces. 

Aaron lives his life being one step from the edge. A minor inconvenience could send him spiraling, a change in his routine throwing his entire day off. But he barely registers major incidents. Because for Aaron ignoring the big things is how he survives and yet the things that keeps him alive is focusing on the small details. The little things here or there that convince both him and everyone else that he’s perfectly normal. Sort of like how you can take a piece of glass and drop it from a pretty significant height and it’ll be fine so long as it lands in a way that distributes the impact. Where as if you drop a piece of glass from a small height but it lands on the wrong corner it shaders.

Aaron knows that if he can’t be normal, if he can’t convince himself or others that he is, he’ll fall apart. And if his pieces fall apart there will be no glueing them back together. There will be no getting back up. That’s part of the reason why the foxes put him on edge so much. He’s a unsoldered stained glass piece and the foxes are a swinging hammer. If they collide the foxes will survive but Aaron wont.

[veryberryjelly]

could i have a 🥐 for a golden trio era character (no poly ships) please? and congrats on graduating btw <3

(btw this is oddly formatted cuz i still dk how to write abt myself 😭)

my hogwarts house is slytherin & i'm an intp. i've been told im observant, 'mature for my age', 'elusive' & creative, and that i could do a lot of things if i choose to and set my mind to it. i can be really funny, vulgar & charismatic, but also aloof and cold. im a bit of a slacker and i get into my fair share of trouble. i also keep a small amount of friends.

my favourites books are the secret history & the goldfinch. i like journaling and reading but i tend to procrastinate a lot. my fave fruit is pomegranete. i tend to associate certain places with how deeply i felt or an eventful moment that happened. i have an eclectic music taste and usually listen to songs from/before the 2010s, mid 60s/early 70s & 50s. once in a while i will listen to some modern new releases, though. the song ive been listening to on repeat recently are sleepwalker by akiaura, your face by wisp, noisy sunday by patrick watson and you know im no good by amy winehouse. other than harry potter, i know mcu (spiderverse films <33), the umbrella academy, the twilight franchise, the walking dead and lord of the rings. i also like silent films. i love daydreaming and sleeping. i have the burden of the oldest sibling. ans i plan to taste all the best wine i could get my hands on, but that probably won't happen.

idk if this i a necessary description but i have olive/tan skin,  black wavy hair, freckles & dark brown eyes. and my aesthetic would probably by beatnik and midwestern emo combined (and 'older brother' core but minus all the videogames).

𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

i ship you with...

theo nott !!!

i have no hard reasoning for this apart from the fact that i get the sense you'd both get along so so well !!!

i know theo likes old times music and he would 100% put some on and just twirl you around your dorm room whether it's just the two of you or if the room is full of you're dormates

his friends have grown used to it and at this point just watch in adoration as you two get so wrapped up in your own world.

theo will take you on a trip to taste the best wines in the world, probably to italy during your last summer at hogwarts and he makes sure it's the best trip you've ever taken.

theo will also go to see every marvel film in the cinema with you if you asked.

he loved those kind of films so he is very excited to see all of them

doesn't let go of your hand through the whole movie. <<33

[prettyboykatsuki]

As an excellent writer, do you have any advice? It's been a while since I wrote something other than poetry and I wanted to try writing a story. I managed to get started, but I'm still having a little trouble.

You have inspired me a lot for the record!

as an excellent writer u say...... u want me to cry ....

you've gotten through the hardest part which is simply getting started imo!!! so do not feel to discouraged bc that is like... so often the hardest part. and im pleased to have inspired u that is huge!!!!

when i get stuck on a story, i normally go do something else related to story writing. sometimes that's reading fic for a character, watching clips of them, or making a pinterest board. something to like... stimulate my creative desires in a sense? i find that reading fic is the most effective to get me to write a bit more

but also, try not to pressure yourself and focus on enjoying the process if you can ! i think the idea of completing a fic can make it feel sooo daunting but the best writing happens when you can pour into your story without certain expectations.

i would try to give u more advice about the plotting process but being honest i don't think i've ever actually outlined and plotted anything. i process everything by just writing - though if you're having trouble sometimes trying to build out a structure and then help can be really nice.

the best way though to just write is letting yourself just get the words on the page and going back to edit it afterwards. your first draft can be super dogshit and thats fine, because it lets you have an idea of what you want to say or are trying to say and not getting stuck just not writing. its okay if none of it makes sense the first time as long as smth is on the page

i have some other writing advice in a tag but all of it's old so idk if it'll be helpful. i'll add it to this post though so u can peruse it a bit since ppl have asked me before . for some reason fdkjsdk

[brokenhardies]

some fun luna and the doctor facts!

when luna first met five (the visitation) she fainted in front of them due to it being her first time being shunted around the timeline

she quickly realises that this means that eleven knew she was going to pass out and didnt say anything... which means every incarnation from five onwards knows that she passed out in front of them

she's most worried about meeting six, he's going to have the most creative flowery insults for her about that

speaking of five - luna had a crush on them when she was a kid due to thinking that they were a woman

when she found out that they weren't a woman (thanks to the 'sexual awakening' scene from black orchid) she was a bit embarrassed

instead of the six & peri comment she accidentally drops this when under the truth field in time of the doctor meaning that eleven, twelve and thirteen all know this (so do fourteen & fifteen but im waiting to write those two later down the track lol)

all of the doctors know that luna is a lesbian. she hasnt come out to any of them. maybe she's made it obvious? she doesn't know

she does get to meet sappho with the first doctor and he kind of went "...oh that explains a lot"

speaking of one - luna gets along best with susan, vicki and dodo. they all try to get into trouble together

luna always ends up stealing the doctor's clothes - she's walked around in the original four scarf (not the second one because someone ripped it up), as well as seven's sweater vest, eight's original coat and nine's leather jacket

luna isn't sure if the reason eight, war and nine all wear leather jackets is because of her or because of ace. or because of none of those things

the doctor has met the seeker and insulted it. several times. they dont tell luna that theyve done that 'cause they dont want to put luna in danger, but they will call the seeker "a pathetic egocentric moron with delusions of grandeur and hypocricy"

yes thats a six insult - he definetly called the seeker that

luna frequently wonders if the doctor is aware that their life is a tv show because of how little they care about the fourth wall

she also wonders who plays certain roles that the doctor's actors have played if they look exactly like those characters, or if those shows just... dont exist

which is a shame bc she loves good omens... then she finds the book in the tardis library and immediately loses her goddamn mind

theres a thick of it joke i can make here but my brain is blanking on it

[featureenvyproductions]

I really want to go to art school and I've been toying with the idea just to fill in the gaps - not because I need a degree or the fucking meritocracy badge of approval, but just bc you have access to a lot of people and resources when you're in school, and it was maybe the ONE thing I felt was an advantage when I got my degree. There's also a clear path and structure. Like first we learn this, and here's some deadlines. Then we build on that and learn this, and here's some more deadlines. For some reason I always have trouble following through if I'm trying to just watch an entire several semesters of YouTube lectures. It's hard for me to follow bc there isn't the hands on component and I can't ask questions. And now there are no good places on the internet to ask questions anymore (bc capitalism.....rant for another time). Sure, I could ask someone for info to help me animate better, but for every helpful response, I'm gonna get like 10 death threats and quips about my ignorance. I don't have the energy to sort through that.

So yeah. I'm toying with the idea of going to art school. Because there's a pretty affordable online 2d animation program at a school near me. Idk. Not saying I'm necessarily gonna do it, but I was thinking like, this time maybe I could actually get in instead of everyone either raising their eyebrows or outright laughing at my portfolio like when I applied as a kid (different school though....Cal arts can suck my unwashed ass....oh wait no actually they don't get the honor).

Theres something cathartic about being able to go study the thing I want, but this time I hold all the cards because I have a job and a degree already, and if a professor pisses me off, I can straight up tell them to suck it, get up, leave, and never go back if I don't want. Because I literally don't have to care if i finish as long as I get some extra info out of it. I hold all the cards this time. I can go learn but I can set life balance boundaries, and I can afford to fuck things up this time. I think it would be easy mode compared to when I got a degree and was desperately trying to get through it despite everything, with the pressure of knowing I was basically doomed if I didn't graduate.

I always do better when I know it's safe to fuck up.

the only thing I dread looking at these course requirements?

THE GODDAMN CREATIVE WRITING REQUIREMENT. GODDAMN I AM GOING TO HATE THAT MORE THAN ANYTHING. HATE. LOATHING. I AM GOING TO FAIL THE BEJESUS OUT OF THAT CLASS, AND I AM GOING DOWN IN RAINBOW FLAMES, WRITING COLORFUL QUEER TRASH THE ENTIRE WAY DOWN. LIKE YOU CAN MAKE ME WRITE BUT IM GONNA MAKE YOU READ THINGS SO BAD THEY MAKE YOUR EYES BLEED (sometimes unintentionally) god I hate creative writing "BUT EJ YOU WROTE 4 COMIC BOOKS" Yes and all of them were achieved by blacking out and channeling my dark gay emotions in a frenzy and projecting them onto awkward guys idk how the fuck to follow assignments for this shit in high school I couldn't even use an adverb correctly or tell you what the fuck a theme was and I got screamed at constantly for it like I suck ass at writing normally

Me, walking up to admissions with a 20 dollar bill: "hey....what do you say to maybe.....counting the technical writing for engineers course I took 15 years ago towards this requirement"

Admissions: "are you.....are you trying to bribe me with 20 dollars"

Me: "will it work?"

Admissions: "no..."

Me *digging around in my pocket* : "well I've got good news then bc I can also give you" *more digging* "this..." *withdraws paper* ".....crumpled bird sketch...."

Admissions: "shouldn't that have been in your portfolio - OHHHH nevermind you were serious about not drawing animals well...."

[blu3haw4]

];<

Im upset

I said some time ago that I rebloged a fic and then clicked on it and found they used IA picture so i clicked back out becasue i didn't want to support that (also i was concerned they were using IA to writte too)

Not long after i found it again, by accident and didn't realized it was the same and read a farther chapter (that had no IA pics) before i realized and went to the beggining to find out that it was the same story.

Now, the summary is amazing, the chapter i read was incredible, so i said you know what, because one is not suposed to leave shit comment (because you should be decent human beings) imma read this shit but not fully suport it because I don't suport the use of AI for "art" and also i wasn't fully sure yet if they were using IA to write the fic

Is subscribed. After reading all about 6 chapter that were up and deciding that it couldn't be IA writing, because... it just felt real, nothing like I had read before, typos that i commit, also the time between chapters was too long for someone who's using IA to creat a story.

So i continued reading, still not supporting the use of IA, and not leaving a single comment. (Felt like shit, bit I'll get there) The story is a Rollercoaster of emotions, and I'm constantly conflicted with which character to suported or hate on each chapter, because they all have tons and tons of layers

The story just got updated today, with a chapter that in my opinion, is the BEST, obviously yet, because the story isn't finished, but it definitely is a turning point of the plot, and incredibly better than the last one (which was also great)

So here i am, conflicted. Upset and frustrated.

The author hasn't used any more IA images since chapter like... 5? We're way ahead now, and all imaged used are all edited from apps I know and use to create social media feeds chats

I am stupid and I've alway had trouble saying thing are amazing when there's big things that aren't tangled in there too. I mean friendships birthday messages, my own writing, school work, things that are necessarily part of my everyday but do happen one in a while. On the other hand, i am the devil's lawyer. I vail for the villain, always trying to find the good, and the reason on those who are tilted as the bad guys or as bad situations.

The first sounds pesimuistic. But the second one is optimistic. Because that's reality, things can't just be good or just be bad.

What I'm trying to get to is don't judge on either way, and help me figure out if and/or how, let this author know how much their story has shaken me, without being a bitch as well as not avoiding my lack of suport on IA intervention in creative processes.

Please and thank you, be gente );

[ilovemylawyer]

this blog is a bit like a writing diary for me- posting my progress and thoughts on what i am doing inbetween trying to write. this will be my first and hopefully one of the very few ilml lamentations. please bear with me but if i don’t say all of this out loud i fear i may explode.

one of the biggest reasons that i hate posting my original thoughts and my original work online for the public to see is because my words get stolen from me. this was true in like, 2014-2016 when i was surrounded by identity-seeking teenagers posting my art online. i did really think that things would be different this time around but i was wrong and it’s happening again and i have to deal with that. my therapist has already said that there’s nothing i can actually really Do about ‘twitter plagiarism’ (his words not mine) but i am still going to complain about it because i want it to stop. i don’t know if it’s obvious or not but i am pouring myself into the fics im writing for this show. it’s all pretty serious stuff to me i am taking my writing really seriously because i want to make something cool and interesting for a show that i really really love. seeing my words get twisted into something that they were never about in the first place is extremely disheartening. i love creative writing i love storytelling i think it’s fun for everyone and i am enjoying sharing my work with you. but it is so hard to see my ideas be stolen and co-opted to apply to some fictional cops lol. it hurts. it makes me very upset. it makes me want to keep my writing to myself. i am so protective of my own identity and my identity extends to the things that i create. this is a smallllllll fandom. the english speaking hakyun community is smalllllll. i am not stupid and i know when im being talked about and i know when my words are being taken and twisted from me. being misunderstood is one of my biggest fears. please for the love of god please try to be a little more gentle with what i am putting out there. i don’t want any trouble but i also Really Really want to feel safe and secure sharing my work- i don’t want to have to be paranoid about my art being stolen like im fucking 15 on deviantart again. this may read as an overreaction but it really is that serious to me. i am so happy that my writing has struck you in some way, but so unhappy to only find that out through my ideas being stolen to instead apply to your favorite (COP) ship. i am more sad than angry about this. i don’t want credit under where my words have been twisted i just don’t want anyone to twist my words- i want you to take them as they are. i don’t want any fights i just want my stuff to be taken as is. i am honored to inspire people that is a great feeling but posting a cop ship tweet that is just wholeheartedly lifted from my work is … :( makes me upset. inspiration should inspire your own creation i think. i am reluctant to keep sharing my stuff if it isn’t going to be handled with care. my writing is special to me like i know it is fucking gay kdrama fanfiction but it’s Hearty to me and evilive means a lot to me and i am just so so so so so so soooo sad having this happen. as i have said many times now, i am not used to posting my art. it is terrifying to me and i am an antisocial creative because of my fear of my works being opted and my fear of openness and honesty. me posting anything at all is going so out of my comfort zone but seeing my fears come to fruition Again is making me miserable. please be more kind with me i want to fill up the tag for this show i want to share my thoughts with you but i am beyond discouraged about. well. about fucking twitter plagiarism which i know is lame but it happened to me and i think it’s understandable that i am sad about it. i am not going to say names publicly because that is just asking for trouble, but like i said this fandom is small.

if the perpetrator of the plagiarized tweet in question sees/hears about this: hi. i love your art!!! please be more gentle when consuming and regurgitating my work. i would love to have you digest it instead but i know my stuff can be a bit hard on the stomach. please try to keep it down. please don’t steal/co-opt/twist my ideas again. your 22 word tweet has more views than the fic i spent >a month laboring over. please be considerate. please don’t be mean to me.

TLDR: being a crazy gay writer in a fujo-lead fandom is one of the hardest things i have ever experienced. my violent, dead gangster is not a dog in the same way that your rich, pampered officer of the law is. please don’t twist my words. please be nicer to me.

[ducknotinarow]

2012 Michelangelo - All Symbol Headcanons please uwu

| Send me a symbol and I will write a headcanon about…  For multimuse blogs, please specify!

Mikey! I am pretty biased on 2012 mikey personally I will say blame it on his VA who is one of my favorites have even gotten to meet them uwu I just love him. I feel they didn't always give him the spot light he should but I do appreciate the show many times showing how competent Mikey is often shocking his brothers like the gang on how to figure out where Casey is using Cell phone signals simply cause its how he tracks the pizza delivery boy.

𝓕 : My muse’s handwriting. (Is it good, bad, difficult to decipher, do they prefer writing by hand or with the help of some form of machine, e.t.c.) 

"Micheal at your service,"

In an episode while flirting with Renet Mikey states his name is Michael middle name Angelo which is why I did it like this and misspelled Michael cause I can see him forgetting the a there XD

Of course, Mikey also uses big letter because he is by far the most out going of all his brothers. Due to Mikeys more empathic nature he dose write with a much more softer pressure due to his confidence his signature can be read pretty easy even if Mikey sort of decided Angelo is his middle name likey due to the fact he is more often called Mikey anyway. Micheal when hes in serious trouble Michelangelo when worse trouble. Mikeys enthusiasm can also be shown thanks to how he crosses his t's making them looped and near like a cross. And well Mikey may not be able to hold the title of artist in the family he is creative and his more rounded letting shows this.

✈ : My muse and  traveling. (If they do it frequently and why, if they never left their home town, e.t.c.)

"Aw man thanks to Ranet we've been all over tha place!"

As mentioned in Raph's The turtles have traveled to a lot of places in truth going to space, other worlds and even time periods. Of course, Mikey apparently has done more time traveling than his brothers claiming he and renet have hung out with them knowing.

✿ : My muse and nature. (If they are an ‘outdoorsy type’, like the sound of bird’s singing, if they have never set foot in a forest, e.t.c.) 

"I've never been in the wild much I don't even know like what all turtles can do? I mean I been to Jersey before and the farm house we hid out at." Mikey is a tad inbetween I would say he is far more a city turtle loving the convince of it even if he lives in a sewer. He likes having better access to things like internet and tv after all. He liked the farm house because of the chickens though and he did enjoy camping with his brothers. Mikey was able to connect to nature pretty decently but he is far more in tune at times. HEck Mikey is more willing to rough it when him and his brothers are stuck in time eating a mub and berry bark pizza.

☼ : My muse’s first memory. (Where it was, who was with them, how this memory makes them feel, e.t.c.) 

"First uh? hmmm man I guess when Splinter told us about how we got our home and when he gave me mu nunchucks?"

Im sure Mikey remembers a bit further back maybe not so much when he was a baby outside some vague things maybe, mostly he remembers when they were presented with thier weapons as one if thier passing stages for thier training under splinter. Sure Mikey dosent get much of a reason it speech behind why he got his nunchucks but Splinter well not always understanding Mikey dose seem to note his potential and ability and nunchucks require a lot of focus to be used and to Mikey this was a way of splinter stating Mikey could handle such a weapon.

He takes great care of his weapons and learned to work them in with his more unorthodox style and arcobact way of maneuvering when he fights.

☙ : My muse’s favourite food. (Bonus: A memory, be it good or bad, associated with said food.)

"P I to the doublr Z-a duh bruh it's pizza!"

of course it's Pizza mikeys real ture love is Pizza clearly this boy has stated he can eat two all by himself and often keeps boxes of pizza in his bed room to eat ot stashes slices in his shell so clearly he'll eat it stale but were gonna gloss over this fact I feel xD cause boys disgusting loves to experiment and trying different sorts of toppings and he has no limit of what he'll put on it from the usual toppings to jelly beans. Funny enough he hate pineapple but if he wants to piss of raph he'll throw some on.

♬ : My muse and music. (What type of music they like listening to and in what context, what music they would never listen to, e.t.c.)

"Ehh long as it ain't polka I'm pretty chill with an tune long as I can bust a move."

I would say mikey more into music like tencho. Pop and electric pop wven something works well when he dances or even fights since he since he has displayed the ability to fight well not thinking the best working purely off instinct. Mikey also have a decent singing voice seeing as he dose the vocals for the ice cream kitty MV. Yeah not cannon but he dose sing in the show here and there as well.

↺ : My muse and the past. (Do they live in the past and struggle to let go of past grievances, or move on more easily, is there anything in their past they want to forget, e.t.c.) 

" sensie would say gotta learn from but don't ley it control ya."

Mikeys more just tries to let things go because he feels something just are not worth it. It's kond of why he let's alot of his brothers remarks go he knows in part its a brotherly thing but sometimes he can't help but hold on to what they say about him.

Because he is the youngest he sometimes feels his brothers only see him as a screw up even running away from.the farm house when feel loke thst didn't want him around anymore. He's snapped at Raphael on the angry planet showing he dose in fact get pretty hurt over Raphaels comments as well.

Byt he feels sometimes it's better to let things go because even if his brothers can be harsh on him he also knows those three would do anything to any one if he got hurt. They will chase him down to find him if he gose missing and well they are in thier own ways looking out for him so he tries to focus on that instead.

☾ : My muse and sleep. (How much they sleep, how much they wish to sleep, if there is something that never fails to put them to sleep, e.t.c.) 

"Hmm I sleep fine actually now when I was younger though I sort of struggled sleeping alone when we got our own rooms think I just got used to be near my bros."

mikey dosent really snuggle with sleep head hits a pillow and he's out. When they were far younger though? Mikey often would sneak to sleep with one of his brothers due to frequent nightmares he dealt with.

✧ : My muse and art. (If they have an artistic side or not and why, favourite artist if they have one, e.t.c.) 

"Raphs a great artis but I loke to dabble in the arts myself."

Mikey draws like a five year old and I love it. Definitely tries to draw loke Raph can he admires his older brother skill and tries to improve often drew a lot with raph when they were younger but cause raph is better he tended to opt for having them just so it for him instead. He loves to draw it just a fun hobby for him though she he's nit all the versed in it himself. But his favorite artis is Raphael his brother for sure.

❃ : My muse and social media. (If the muse is/would be on social media and why/why not, their general opinion on it, e.t.c.) 

"Thibk I'm about on everything? I lpvr meeting people online! Just don't tell Don that I've meet a few of them in person."

As mikey has stated hes pretty much on about every platform Facebook Twitter forums ect some he uses more than others anything that allows for mkre interactions tends to be what he uses more in that day. He has a few mutual across platforms mainly from fandoms. Just as he is in personal mikey very social online and has decent followings.

He has run the risk and met a few of his online in person donnir tries to stop him anf at first it worked but once donnie got with the von of this verse Mikeu decided to be a rebeal and went to the next meet up. He is also friends with one of the pizza guys often getting free pizza because of this.

✉  : My muse and others. (If they social and outgoing or more introverted, and why. If they prefer communicating with others face to face or in written form, e.t.c.). 

"I like meeting people."

Miekys a social butterfly he shoild be a bit more reserved but he can't help it hes a people person he loves social interaction and will hang out with kind of anyone who will give him attetion and yes this has been in fact a bad thing time to time

But at the same time work for the team over all since he befriend many people who started off being possible villians lole Leatherhead, Monday and that frog dude even. Unknown to his brothers mikey actually gets around and talks to a fee humans and such often flying under the radar they don't seem to be fully aware of all he dose when they aren't watching him. Sometimes it betters he's not left bored cause he will find a way to get into trouble.

▶ : My muse and level of education. (If the muse has some form of education, what education they perhaps wish they had, e.t.c.). 

"I mean ninaj school I'm a master at it clearly"

Mikeys stated to have the most raw talent of course but he's also generally pretty smart even able to understand donnie when others can't even if sometimes he just joking and going along with Don's enthusiasm he by extension has learned because of this.

◐ : My muse and animals. (If they like animals and treat them well, do not care for them at all, e.t.c.). 

"Aww I love them they are soo cute!"

Mikey dose like animals he took in the stray cat April found after all and felt horrible when he cause her to.mutate into ice cream kitty who he talks great care of even making sure she has a safe way to be relocates to the Fram house and back to New York after.

❒ : My muse and gifts. (If they are good/bad at finding gifts, good/bad at receiving gifts, good/bad at wrapping gifts, e.t.c.) 

"I love getting gifts!"

he's the youngest what can I say can kind of saw the t pod don made is sort of a gift for mokeu since he uses the most and openly volunteered to test it out and lokely dose often for donnie experiments xD

☘ : My muse’s relation with their family. (If they speak with each other and how much, if they are close or estranged, e.t.c.). 

"Family I'm all about my famillia."

I feel it can be safe to say Mikey looks up to each brother and they show it prettt well. He dosent tend to be annoyed by how they sort of baby him at times or discredit him made worse when in the 12 verse they are all the same age. But often Mikey feels his brothers forget this fact and it can greatly annoy him time to time because he's gone through a lot of the stuff they all have and then some but they tend to not always acknowledge this stuff he knkws in part its because they are older and there's a is a bit of lookong out for thier brother here.

Mikey of course dose experience a bit jealous when it comes to knew people coming into to his brothers lives April the least but they saved her so she was always an expection to Mikey. Casey and Von though both are subjects of jealously but mostly due to Mikey feeling lonely and feeling he lost a brother in a way. Because he is pretty damn close to Raph and Donnie. Not so much going against Leo because he feels he's not a good leader but more hey they are doing so I will too. Seeing how Mikey often plays the baby bro card on Leo the most and gets away with it with alot.

Raph may pick and bully Mikey a bit but Raphs also the one who jumps to protect mikeys first not to mention Mikey sort of learns smack talk from raph wanting to come off just about as tough.

Donnie is often group up with in the team B of the team later called the A- minis team. You can tell mokey seems to have an intrest in sicene and often messes in Don's lab but donnie makes seem cool and exciting but he also dosent always let mikey in the lab sooo yeah he over steps and and mess stuff pretty often but it's also be the result if accidently achievements. And it why he was able to make the antidote for the wasps.

Leo I feel mikeu got closer with over time since theu both can bind over being mega fans for a TV series.

Mikeys is always the one needing protection physically but Mikey is also the one who protects his brothers emotionally. He often step up when thier emotions lead to bad choices or making mistakes and he can sort of meet them head on when it comes to over stressing themselfs or lashing out he knows sometimes his brother can't handle thier emotions or don't want to so he sort of gives them that outlet they need so badly

[storybook-souls]

hmm. nobody hold me to this but I think maybe. perhaps. the creative restlessness I've been feeling lately is because I am supposed to be writing a book,

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hey there! I just came across this blog and im wondering if I could get some advice. I have a lot of trouble keeping motivation for a story. I'll have a new idea that im really excited about, ill write 10-20 pages of it, and then get bored of writing it. Any tips on how to keep myself invested in writing my own stories?

5 Reasons You Lost Interest in Your WIP, Plus Fixes!

It's not uncommon for writers to lose interest in their WIP. Staying on track, or getting back on track, are skills you'll acquire with time. Here are some of the reasons you might have lost interest in your WIP:

#1 - You're Not Sure Where the Story is Going. When you figure out a way into a story you're excited about, the beginning can be a piece of cake. It's all set up and inciting incident, which can be really really fun to write. But if you're not sure what needs to happen after the inciting incident, you can find yourself meandering and get bored quickly.

Fix - If you're writing a story that is plot-driven or a combination of plot-driven and character-driven (as most stories are these days), it may help to familiarize yourself with Basic Story Structure and also have a look at my post about How to Move a Story Forward.If you're writing a character-driven story, you can adhere to basic story structure or a more loose structure, but your character's arc will be the focus of the story. If you think plot and structure may be what's holding you back, you might spend time on my Plot & Story Structure post master list to read some of the other posts there.

#2 - Something Isn't Working. Stories are often like a house of cards in that one misplaced "card" can bring the whole thing crashing down. Sometimes you lose interest because an element or event didn't quite work, and you can feel in your gut that something's not right, so your brain interprets that as losing motivation. It's not really that you've lost interest in the story... it's that you've lost interest in the dead end path it's on.

Fix - Go back through what you’ve already written and look for something that’s not pulling its weight. It could be an unnecessary character dragging the story down, a subplot that is cluttering up the story or drawing attention away from the main plot, or it could be a scene/scenes that don’t add to the story. It could even be a combination of these things. If you can find it and fix it, your motivation may return.

#3 - You're Just Not in the Mood to Write. It could be that your interest in your WIP is just fine, you're just not in the mood to write. Our brains aren't always great at interpreting signals from our bodies, including other parts of our brain. The thirst signal is sometimes misinterpreted as hunger, which is why if you're feeling hungry when you shouldn't, you should try drinking a glass of water. Sometimes, in the same way, we're just not in the mood to write and our brains misinterpret that as a loss of interest in our WIP.

Fix - Consider what's going on in your life at the moment. Are you stressed? Are you distracted? Are you not feeling well? Sometimes you just need to give yourself a few days or weeks to let things resolve, and then you'll find your motivation has returned. Try doing things to Fill Your Creative Well in the meantime, or try some of the exercises in this post: Getting Unstuck: Motivation Beyond Mood Boards & Playlists

#4 - You're Overly Focused on Quality. One of the biggest WIP interest/motivation zappers is focusing too much on quality in your early drafts. If you're fixated on things like description, flow, theme, symbolism, grammar, etc. in your first draft, you're going to mentally

Fix - Remember, your early drafts should be more about getting the story down and working out the kinks. Don't worry so much about things like description, grammar, details, etc. until you've got all of that hammered out. And remember that the whole point of editing and revision is to polish your draft. You get the story down and make it pretty later.

#5 - You're Letting Yourself Get Distracted by New Ideas. The thrill of coming up with a new idea is part of the fun of being a writer. One of the pitfalls of being a writer is new ideas sometimes distract you from your WIP. We can be completely into our WIP, then a new idea comes along and our brains say, "Ooo! Look at the shiny pretty!" And off we go. Some writers, particularly seasoned ones, are able to work on multiple WIPs at once, but you should focus on one WIP at a time if you commonly lose interest before they're finished.

Fix - When you get a new idea, write it down in a notebook and/or in a document on your device. Once the idea is "down on paper," just forget about it. Imagine that it vanishes once it's recorded and you close the notebook/document. It takes practice, but you'll get better at ignoring the pull of a new idea.

Here are some posts from my Motivation post master list that might also help:

Guide: How to Rekindle Your Motivation to Write Feeling Unmotivated with WIP Getting Unstuck: Motivation Beyond Mood Boards & Playlists Getting Excited About Your Story Again

Have fun with your story!

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[sweatermuppet]

hey i recently found your blog and i love your shit, any advice for writing? i feel like ive been in a rut the past few months but ive only started writing poetry the past few months, shits hard to do

it is hard! ive been writing only small, incomplete things lately. i think this is my most commonly asked question so im gonna point you in the direction of "ordinary genius: a guide for the poet within" by kim addonizio (links to a free pdf/epub copy). but in case you want some quick bites of advice here's the notes i took directly from her book myself:

think about setting up trouble + expectation. good poems avoid the predictable

poems may use unusual words but it's better to use simple words in surprising ways

poetry isn't what we think of as the ordinary, but what we feel + sense is underneath the ordinary, or inside it, or passing through it

the line, in poetry, has been called 'a unit of attention'. good definition. a good poem will reward close attention, line by line

description is important because it is evidence

i sometimes find myself wondering what there is to write about + whether i have anything left to say. if you sometimes feel like this, it's good to go back to the evidence of the external world, to pay attention to the music of what happens. the world won't ever fail you (last line was underlined in my notebook)

you don't have to understand something to be affected by it

by taking poems into your body, you will get closer to them (in reference to memorizing + rereading)

every single writer ive read has taught me something

the ability to begin, and then sustain, any kind of creative work means being able to tolerate ambiguity + uncertainty. confusion + questioning are part of the process for all writers, at all levels

keats 'negative capability': "when a man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact + reason." the poetic state of mind isn't grasping. it isn't passive, either. receptive may be a better word

often, poems are not about what their writers know, but what they don't know. a poem can open a field of inquiry. if you know too much when you start out, your poem may fail because there is nothing to discover (last line was underlined in my notebook)

the essence of poetry: one thing in terms of another. and crucially, one thing waking another

metaphor is perception; that's why it is so key to creativity. when we tell ourselves what we see, we can use language to dull our awareness

if you want to make poetry out of emotional, personal subjects you have to step back (Chekhov's "necessary coldness")

that's 25+ chapters condensed down to little notes. addonizio also lists tons of great prompts that are too plentiful to put here, but the link above is completely free so if any of what i presented seems promising, there's a lot more to be had directly from addonizio herself <3