#anyway still plugging away at my goals

[senselessalchemist]

exorcising a stupid image that has been bumping around my empty skull like the DVD logo bouncing around the TV screen (terrible quality because I truly havent drawn in so long)

[kitten4sannie]

trendsetter

reach for my goals, hit it dead center

pairing: idol ex! mingi x fem! reader

genre: an actual idol au omg, smut

summary: mingi reminds you why he was so hard to leave in the first place, well, the first few times, anyway.

w.c: 3.3k

bc i’m bigger, better

warnings: brief weed use/shotgunning (mingi’s a plug in another life btw <3), mingi’s kinda a dickhead and a master manipulator (damn double homicide), dom! mingi, subby! reader, mingi’s got a big cawk, glove ? kink? idk bro, exhibitionism, teasing, praise/degradation, pet names galore/name calling, tit play, spit, fingering, finger sucking (leads to some gagging), oral (giving), deep-throating, cum eating, grinding, kissing, size kink, breeding kink, mingi fucks reader raw on the hood of her own car hallelujahhhh

a/n: don’t blame me for this btw,, blame mingi mango and the things he’s been posting on ig 😮‍💨 this man makes me delirious istg. also i wrote this while incredibly sleep deprived just so yk !! there might be some grammar and spelling errors (as well as a general sense of lunacy ✨) regardless i hope you enjoy and please do let me know if you liked it bc feedback is like a treat for me and im a treat hungry lil goblin uwu <3

song recs: so damn into you by vlad holiday - come 2 me by johnny goth - liquid by boston manor

Mingi barely made it two steps past one of the various emergency exit doors of the booming, hectic arena, dropping his lighter on the ground when his favorite ex suddenly came waltzing back into his life again after just swiftly exiting it for the nth time.

“Where are my car keys? I know you have them,” you abruptly confronted him, snatching the lighter from the ground before he could grab it and sliding it inside your tank top, right in between your tits.

“Why would I have your car keys, sugar?” Mingi sighed exasperatedly, walking in your direction until he towered over you, gently clasping his calloused hands around your upper arms so he could rub them up and down in an effort to calm you, gently turning you around until your back pressed into the cool metal of the emergency door. “Can you use that pretty little head of yours for me, Y/N? I just performed right now. I was busy rehearsing before that. Do you really think I would take your keys from you just to keep you from leaving?”

“Yes, I do. You always do some fuck shit like this when I try to leave. Every time, Mingi.” Despite the furrow of your brow and the contempt present within your words, you couldn’t help but watch as Mingi’s thumbs began to press into the sides of your tits. When you didn’t say anything, he began to press the rest of his gloved fingers into the softness of your chest.

“Some fuck shit like this?” Mingi asked under his breath, studying your flushed face to gauge your reaction as he squeezed your tits against the palms of his rough hands, rubbing his thumbs teasingly against the thin material of your sports bra until he felt your nipples harden. “You aren’t tell me to stop, baby. Cat got your tongue?”

“I hate you…” you whispered softly, not understanding why you never had the strength to deny him, even in a public, though empty alleyway, even after you just broke up with him only a little while ago.

“You don’t seem to hate this…Your body’s responding to me…” Mingi suddenly pinched your nipples through your sports bra, chuckling at the gasp you let out. He leaned down, bringing his lips to your ear to whisper, “I bet you don’t hate how wet I’m making you right now, either. Is your cunt throbbing for me already, Y/N?”

“N-no…” You bit into your bottom lip when your ex let out a disapproving ‘uh-uh’ as you turned your head to look away from him, squeezing your thighs together, hoping your arousal wouldn’t drip past your short skirt.

With one hand still clasped around your tit to play with it, Mingi brought the other up to grasp your chin, making you face him again, so close that you were breathing in each other’s air, your parted lips almost touching. “You’ll let me check to see if you’re lying, won’t you, sugar? Can I see how many fingers I can fit inside your tight little cunt?”

You hated how much your body and soul still burned for your lecherous ex, hated how desperate you suddenly were for him to have his way with you, but what you hated most of all was the way you whimpered out, “Please, Minnie.”

Mingi groaned softly at the use of his pet name, feeling most of his blood began to head below the belt, letting go of your chin, the both of you watching as his hand disappeared underneath your skirt. He instantly slipped two thick fingers inside you up to the knuckles, despite wearing a pair of thick leather gloves, the both of you moaning at the squelching sound your bare, wet cunt made. “That’s my girl. You wore this slutty little skirt and no panties just for me, didn’t you? You don’t even care about getting out of here with your keys. You just wanted me to put my hands all over you one last time, yeah?”

Just as you were about to respond, Mingi suddenly stuffed his leather-bound fingers into your mouth, making you taste your own warm wetness. “A-aaahn,” you moaned around his moving digits, feeling them slip along your hot tongue, looking up at your ex’s intensely dark gaze.

“Suck,” he simply requested, smiling fondly at the sight of your plush lips closing around his fingers, pushing them further and further back until he made you gag around them, his cock throbbing at the sight of your teary doe eyes. “Oh, baby, if you’re going to be looking at me like that and making those pretty noises, I’m gonna lose it…but, you can take it, right? My fingers in your throat?”

You whined softly, trying your best not to gag more around his moving fingers, relaxing your throat enough so that the only sound that could be heard was your moans and the abundance of saliva in your mouth.

“Good girl.” Mingi slipped his fingers out of your mouth and pressed his lips onto your cheek, whispering, “Can you take my cock down your throat next, pretty girl? I worked so hard to perform tonight, you know. Don’t you think I deserve head from my favorite ex?”

“Uh-huh,” you found yourself agreeing, your head still fuzzy from having his fingers inside your mouth, desperate to have something else warm and thick on your tongue, thankful for the heavy hand that began to push your head down until your bare knees were resting against the cold concrete below.

“Say ‘aaah’,” Mingi cooed darkly from above, expertly undoing his thick belt buckle and lowering his pants until his stiff, reddened cock smacked up into his abdomen. It was then that his hands were drawn to either side of your head, barely giving you enough time to open your mouth before he thrusted forward, the tip of his cock instantly hitting the back of your throat. “Fuckkkk, that’s a good slut. You don’t have to be my girlfriend to be my fuck toy, huh, baby?”

Your moans of approval were instantly muffled by the massive cock that was being stuffed inside your throat by your eager ex, as you reached up to grasp at his hips, the shiny lighter that was still sitting in between your tits starting to jostle around due to Mingi’s rough movements.

Suddenly reminded of his post-concert ritual, Mingi reached into his back pocket and placed a joint between his lips, then fished the lighter out from between your tits, but not before he squished one of them for the hell of it. He rolled the dial on the lighter a few times before a flame sparked, bringing it up and lighting the tip of his joint.

The strong aroma of Mingi’s flower reached you in an instant, having to blink your many tears away to watch him take a deep puff of it and blow it out into your face. Your lips tingling from the immense stretch, you sputtered around his pulsing cock, suddenly pulling away, letting your spit laced lips rest against his leaking tip, weakly licking at the pre-cum that spilled from it. “M-minnie…”

“Why’d you stop?” Mingi grunted, biting on the tip of the joint to keep it from falling from his lips, looking down at you with his sharp, slightly red eyes. Using his free hand to jerk himself off with his cockhead pressed to your lips and smearing his pre-cum over them just for his own enjoyment, he slowly realized what was up. “Oh, you want a hit? Aren’t you precious? Come here.”

Mingi slowly lowered himself down into a crouching position, letting go of his cock to grab your chin with his arousal coated fingers, taking in a deeper inhale, the majority of the joint turning to ash, just as he flicked it away into the gutter. He pressed his lips onto yours in an open-mouthed kiss, neither of you bothering to close your eyes as he slowly filled your lungs with smoke.

Just as you began to choke while trying to exhale all the smoke, Mingi dragged his tongue across your own and over your top set of teeth just because he felt like it, before standing back up. “I bet you’re feeling real good now, baby. That was top shelf.” He spat into the palm of his hand and lubed up his cock, before patting your cheek and sliding himself back into the hot haven that was your throat, not wasting a single second to begin pumping himself inside it again, almost like he had never stopped.

Now that both your body and brain were delightfully clouded with a heavy, lustful high, you felt like you could cum just from getting ruthlessly throat-fucked alone, your nails digging into Mingi’s bare hips, more and more tears and saliva dripping along your flushed skin the longer he abused your tiny throat with his oversized length.

“Fuck, I can’t handle it when you cry and drool like that just from sucking my cock, baby. I’m gonna fucking cum,” Mingi groaned deeply from above you, rested his forearms against the emergency door, thrusting sloppily into your mouth. He let out a few short, whiny moans once he began to shudder, plunging his throbbing cock deep inside your throat and staying still. “Oh, shit, I’m cumming. Take my load, princess, ohh my god, that’s it.”

You swallowed the warm, salty liquid as it shot down your throat, only to open your mouth and present your tongue when Mingi pulled out and began to slowly milk his cock, taking the rest of his load on your tongue, not swallowing and simply letting it drip down, a few drops spilling down your chin and getting onto your tits.

“Mm, that’s my messy girl. You’re waiting for me to feed it to you, huh?” Mingi licked at his plush lips from witnessing your obedient nod, pushing his soft cock back into his pants and waiting for you to stand up so that he could collect some of the cum that had escaped your mouth and pushed it back into your mouth. “That’s right, babygirl, clean it all up for me. Mm-hmm, just like that.”

Once you slurped the rest of his load off of his fingers, you wrapped your arms around Mingi’s neck, pressing your heated body into his. “Mingiiii, please fuck me, I can’t take it,” you begged him underneath your breath, pressing your lips onto his neck up to his tense jawline.

“Oh, yeah? You can’t live without this dick, can you?” he questioned you huskily, bringing his wrists up to his mouth one by one to pull his gloves off with his teeth, before reaching past your waist to roughly squeeze his warm hands into your ass. When you grimaced up at him, he tugged your skirt up and spread your ass open to run his fingers down your wet slit from behind, making you whimper. “Admit it, and i’ll fuck you stupid, princess.”

Swallowing down any remaining dignity you had along with the remnants of your ex’s load, you lifted one leg up to hook it around his slim waist, allowing him easier access to you wet cunt, shuddering at the sensation of him shallowly slipping his fingers into and out of you just to tease you. “I can’t live without your cock, Mingi, okay? No one fucks me like you do, so please, make me yours.”

Mingi rubbed the abundant wetness around your cunt, licking his lips hungrily, staring down at you past his dark shades. “Right here? Right now?”

“Yes.”

“What if someone sees, princess?”

“I don’t give a fuck if someone sees, just fuck me, please!”

Mingi grinned crookedly, finding deep amusement in your desperation, considering how you were acting just a little while ago. “Where’s your car, baby?”

You pointed down the dark alleyway. “It’s just around the corner over there.”

Mingi looked over his shoulder, then picked you up from the ground, hooking both of your thighs around his waist and carrying you over to your car, massaging his hands into your thighs on the way. “I don’t have any condoms, you know.”

When Mingi laid you down on the hood of your car, the cool metal sending goosebumps up and down your exposed, heated skin, you shook your head and smiled softly. “When has that ever stopped you?”

“Don’t act like you don’t love when I fuck you raw, and leave you stuffed full of my cum…” Still in between your legs, Mingi bent down to leave kisses, licks, and bites along your neck and collarbone, lowering his pants down just enough to free his length, his slick cock growing hard and heavy against your bare cunt. “Fuck, and when I use my fingers to shove my nut back inside your cunt after…mm, I’m honestly surprised you’re not knocked up for me already…”

“Mingi,” you whined disapprovingly, despite the fresh wave of slick coating your ex’s cock as it repeatedly rubbed back and forth along your cunt.

“What, I thought you liked being my cumslut…my little breeding bitch…my pump n’ dump princess…” Mingi recited playfully, teasing your fluttering hole with the tip of his cockhead, just about driving you to the brink of insanity withi his teasing.

“Shut up, Min, oh my god…”

“Why don’t you shut me up then?” he suggested, hovering close enough to your face for you to pull him in for a desperate kiss that consisted mainly of tongue and teeth, your mouths occasionally making contact in between tongue swipes and lip bites, the both of you panting all the while.

Growing impatient, you slipped your fingers into his choppy hair, tugging his head back until your lips parted, a few strands of saliva still connecting them. “If you don’t put your cock inside me in the next two seconds, I’m going to bite it off. You hear me, Song Mingi?”

Groaning breathily when you tugged at his hair again, Mingi let out a few soft chuckles, taking his shades off and setting them down on the corner of the hood. “Using my government name like that….I must’ve teased you too much. My poor angel, so desperate for cock. I’ll fuck you good, baby. I’ll make it up to you,” he sighed, as he wrapped his fingers around his length, guiding the tip to your entrance and sliding all the way in with ease, the both of you letting out obscene moans. Without any hesitation, Mingi began to buck his hips wildly, his metal belt banging against the hood of your car with each thrust. “Oh, fuck. You feel that? Is it good for you?”

“Yes…!” you cried out, barely about to speak, let alone function, now that your beloved ex was rearranging your guts with his colossal cock.

Huffing, Mingi threw your legs up over his shoulders and laid his body weight on you, essentially folding you in half. He ran his tongue along your jaw, before nipping at it, whispering, “God, you’re always so fucking tight, princess. Gonna milk me for all I’ve got, huh? Cuz’ you’re my good little slut, aren’t you?”

“Uh-huh, just for you, Minnie…”

“Mm-hmm, that’s why you’re still here even after you broke up with me earlier, baby…why you’re taking my cock on the hood of your car where anyone can see you…” Mingi continued, squeezing his hands into the plumpness of your thighs, getting a good grip on them, so that he could drive himself into you as hard as he possibly could, punching short, breathy moans out of you. “You sound so pretty for me, baby, and fuck, you’re so wet right now….You’re gonna cream all over my cock, aren’t you?”

As soon as it felt like Mingi’s oversized cock had slammed directly into your cervix, you let out an abrupt yell, an overwhelming amount of pleasure suddenly shooting through your body like lightning. “Fuck…! I’m cumming, Minnie, it’s so– oh my god.” You were gonna start whimpering and crying when Mingi gently placed his warm hand over your mouth, watching him nod his head knowingly at you, his suddenly softened gaze never leaving yours.

“That’s a good girl, such a good girl for me, Y/N,” Mingi sighed against your ear, the hot, wet sounds of your bodies colliding together and the ringing inside your ears almost too loud for you to hear him properly. Feeling your wetness pour out onto his cock, Mingi let go of your mouth and cradled your face instead, pressing slow, meaningful kisses onto your lips, a few drops of sweat dripping along the shaved sections of his hair just as your trembling fingers drifted along it. “Want it inside, yeah?”

“Yeah…” you whispered against his moving lips, not even realizing when you were clutching him impossibly close to you.

“That’s my baby…” Mingi pulled all the way out, your mixed arousal forming a milky foam around the base of his cock, before he slowly pushed all the way back in, just in time for him to paint your insides white with his seemingly endless load. He hugged you close to him all the while, pressing kiss and kiss onto your lips, face, and neck, knowing that your turbulent time together was about to come to an end, and wishing he could turn the clock back to spend another second with you.

Once your highs began to fade, you cleared your throat and slowly sat up, the both of you silently fixing your disheveled clothes and hair in a poor attempt to look presentable in the case of a random passerby.

“So…since you don’t have my keys, I’m not sure how I’m gonna get out of here,” you sighed, about to push yourself off of the hood of your car when Mingi helped you off instead, annoyed that he was suddenly acting gentlemanly when he had shown you nothing of the sort beforehand.

Smiling apologetically, Mingi fished around in one of his pockets and held your keys up to you. “I took them out of your purse before the show started.” Seeing the anger blossom on your pretty, flushed face, he continued, “Listen, I just wanted you to hear me out before you left and never came back to me, baby. I love you.”

You snatched the keys out of his hand and crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back to sit on the hood of your car, keeping your thighs pressed together to keep everything from leaking out of you. “You don’t get to say that after you just made me your ‘pump n’ dump princess’, you idiot.”

“But I didn’t dump you, Y/N. You’re the one who dumped me!” Mingi whined, his lower lip jutting out in a pout, his brown eyes growing wide and puppy-like.

You couldn’t help but begin to laugh, not only at the ludicrous situation you were both in, but at the truth of his statement. Wiping a tear from your eye, you clicked your keys to unlock your car and walked around to the driver’s side.

“Where are you going? Are you leaving me?”

“No, we’re going to the store to get Plan B, dummy. I’m not about to let Mingi Jr. run around and terrorize the city,” you replied, gazing at your ex, the sight of his childlike amusement making you feel a bit soft towards him.

“I call shotgun!” Mingi called, eagerly heading to the passenger door, practically bouncing on his heels.

“There’s only two of us,” you giggled, sitting down in the car with him.

“For now.” Mingi wiggled his eyebrows at you.

You turned the ignition on, shaking your head, the corners of your lips hurting from how long you had been smiling. “Never say that shit again.”

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© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[multifanhoe99]

Kinktober Day 7- Mirror Sex

This man makes me so feral therefore I had to!

Pairing: Sunwoo x Fem!Reader

Warnings: slight exhibitionism, nicknames (baby, darling), degradation (slut), spanking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, creampie.

=Let me know if I missed any.=

18+ MDNI

PROMPT LIST

MASTERLIST

You loved going to the studio to watch Sunwoo practice. He was always so focused on what he needed to do or improve on and getting to see him work like this up close made you feel so proud. You loved your boyfriend and you knew how hard he worked so sometimes when you knew he was stressing about something you would come along with him to make sure that while yes, he was getting his work and practice in, he was also taking care of himself. You would be there to help remind him to eat, to drink water, and most importantly to come home at a decent hour so he could get some actual rest. The last one was the biggest hassle but you were usually able to tear him away so he could rest.

Tonight was one of those nights where you knew it was going to be hard to get him away from work. There was a particular dance that he wasn't quite able to nail yet and he wanted to stay behind for a little to continue working on it. Every time he misstepped would just frustrate him more and you could see he was getting more stressed the longer he stayed to work on it. That is when you came up with your plan. You were going to help him destress and hopefully, that would help you get him home sooner so he could rest and come back tomorrow well-rested and with fresh eyes. While he was distracted you moved to the door of the dance studio and locked it. You also blocked any windows and once you were sure no one would be able to come in and see what you had planned you moved to where Sunwoo had his phone plugged in to play the music. You pushed pause and before he complained you spoke up, "I think maybe you need to take a break and drink some water."

"I hate it when you're right," he said relenting his protest. He did need water and he was starting to get tired. After a short break, he would try the choreography one more time and then he'd let you drag him home to go to bed. At least that is what he thought was going to happen.

Still, by his phone, you spoke up, "Hey do you remember that one dance that we made up? The duet?"

He swallowed the mouthful of water he had and responded, "Yeah why?"

"Let's do it just for fun and then let's go home. I think you have worked hard enough on this for today," you said. This was the bait you knew this dance you created was a little spicy and if you played the right cards you'd get the desired result.

He thought about it for a while ultimately deciding that you were probably right and he needed to destress before going home anyway. He nodded his head and stood up walking to the center of the room. You found the song in his playlist and started it before walking to your starting spot. The song played and you two danced together. There was no pressure of having to do something right or not and it was fun just to move together. Although, at certain moments you would make sure to move your hips into his. When the song ended Sunwoo was definitely more than hot and bothered. He moved towards you pinned you against the mirror and whispered, "Just what do you think you're doing huh? You want me to fuck you in here where anyone could walk in?"

"They could if I didn't think ahead and lock the doors already," you said with a smile.

He turned you around so that you were now facing the mirror, "Oh so you did want this huh? Wanted me to fuck you in the dance room so you can see for yourself how desperate for my cock you are? Want me to pound you in front of the mirror so you can see the mess I make of you?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I wanted," you replied. You knew throwing a little sass his way at this moment would only rile him up further. That was the goal. You wanted him to release all of the stress he had been building up and what better way to do that than to fuck all of it out.

"So be it then but just remember that you wanted this," he growled. He pulled your hips back a little to bend you over so that your chest was the only thing left pressed against the mirror. He pulled your athletic shorts down revealing that you were not wearing underwear which had him growling behind you. This earned you a sharp smack on your ass that he smoothed over with his hand.

"How long were you planning this little stunt huh? Not even wearing panties you really do want this cock huh," he said leaning over so he was right by your ear. He pulled back so he could pull down his sweats and underwear exposing his hard cock. You could see everything in the mirror from your own fucked out expression to his lust-filled gaze to his hard cock with precum leaking from his tip just before he moves closer to line it up with your own dripping entrance. He slowly started sliding in taking his time with you and when he was fully buried inside you he paused to speak. "Are you ready my pretty little slut? Are you ready for me to ruin you right here on the dance floor? You have a front-row seat so I want you to keep your eyes on me you got that?"

"Y-yes, yes I am so ready," you whimpered. You loved it when he got like this. Demanding and undeniably in charge. Your consent and acknowledgment were all he needed to start moving at a rapid pace. One hand gripping your waist and the other reaching up to grab a fist full of your hair pulling it back so you had no other choice but to watch in the mirror as he fucked into you from behind. It was getting so hard to keep watching he was making you feel so good reaching so deep inside of you. You had closed your eyes in pleasure.

Another harsh spank on your ass caused you to open your eyes again. Sunwoo leaned over you again his right hand still in your hair but the left had now snaked around to rub circles on your clit. He whispered, "Keep your eyes open darling I want you to watch how beautiful you are when you're cumming for me." He continues his rapid pace and circling your clit. All the pleasure comes rushing forth and it is almost too much. You could feel yourself getting closer.

"Sunwoo I am gonna cum," you shouted.

"I know baby. Cum for me you can do it. Let go for me," he replied. He was getting close too and once your walls clenched around him as you came he was not far behind. He continued moving his hips into you to ride out both your orgasms and when you were done he pulled out and quickly picked up your shorts to where they were originally.

"Don't want to waste any of that now, do we? Let's get going so we can have round two at home. I still have some stress I need to get out," he said picking up his own pants and underwear. You both gathered your things as quick as you can and left the studio to go home. It was going to be a long night but at least you got him to come home and not work himself to death all night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I am so sorry for this one being late too but, here is to the man who stole my heart for Kingdom! Literally, he somehow did not come up at first when I was trying to pick a bias in The Boyz. I thought it was gonna be New or Q and then I watched Kingdom and that was it I love Sunwoo. Asks are open send some in!

[spliffymae]

let u decide, rintarō suna

synopsis: some days you loved him, others you wish you never met him. some days he hated the fact you were simply breathing, other days he wanted to be against your chest, listening to your heartbeat. he’s your ex—your ex friend, your ex fling, your ex boyfriend. you should be moving on! so why are you still with him?

⚠️mentions of drug use, swearing, exboyfriend!suna, plug!suna, on/off again relationship, arguing, guilt tripping, gaslighting, inconclusive ending.

kio’s notes - here’s my intro to the haikyuu fic world! also the ending is intended to be the way it is. the goal is to have you (the reader aka y/n) to determine their fate w suna. y’all gonna continue the cycle or break it?

⊱ ──────── {.⋅ ✺ ⋅.}──────── ⊰

it was one of those nights again. where the weather was chilly, winds blowing any which way. the sky was painted a midnight blue, with purplish clouds. you were sitting in your room, face in your plush penguin as you listened to a video lecture. you were doing homework, struggling to even care about the subject at hand.

if it wasn’t a requirement for your major, you would have never even stepped foot in the classroom. because what fresh hell is this?

anyways—

you were listening to your professor give an example of some term he just said, you don’t know. you had tapped out and were now just waiting for the motivation to hit you again. but that atten got pulled away the minute your phone vibrated from beside your computer. you got a text.

rō🔌🖤🏐

i’m outside.

you furrowed your brows at the message. you now were up from your bed, in front of your window to look down into your complex’s parking lot. low and behold, in the spot reserved for your apartment was suna’s matte black bmw xm.

you let out a deep sigh before turning to your laptop and pushing your finger on the space key to pause the video. thankfully you weren’t in your typical loungewear of shorts and an oversized shirt, but rather black yoga pants and a black hoodie. it was a different level of chili today, so your feet being in warm fuzzy socks were fine outside in the cold. great for you, since the only shoes you could slip them into were your beige crocs.

when you locked up your house, you quickly jogged down the stairs and to his car, wanting to get whatever it was he wanted over.

what was once suna stopping by whenever and coming up to your front door was now you meeting him at his car like his other clients.

you walked to his window, tapping your nail against it to pull his attention from his phone. when he looked up at you, he gave you a lazy smile. he gestured for you to go around and come in, which made you raise your brows. he normally would just roll down his window and hand you the sandwich bag with your weed in it.

you give him the same look you gave him from upstairs and he just chuckled in response, signaling for you to go around once more. because he knew you’d listen.

and when you sat in the passenger seat with your back pressed against the door with an irritated look on your face, he still kept the smirk on his face. “happy to see me?”

“i was doing homework.” you intended to make him feel bad for disturbing your studies. after all, as a fellow scholarship student, suna should know how important it is to be consistent in one’s studies. however, because suna also knew you, he knew you were completely and utterly bullshitting.

“righttt, anyways i got your stuff.” he leaned over to your side of the car, pushing the button to open his glove compartment. he was close, his upper body stretching over your legs to retrieve whatever.

“i didn’t order anything from you. i still have from—.” but you were cut off when you saw a bag with ten, thick and tightly rolled spliffs.

suna smiled, “sure? swore i saw sum on your twitter today about ‘needin’ a blunt and a booty rub?” he quirked up a brow, his fox eyes shining with mischief.

you rolled your eyes with a scoff, “it was a retweet. and it was addressed to no one in particular, nosey ass.” he didn’t pay the name any mind. he never did when you would mock him. he instead just nodded, chuckling at how quick your defense came.

“uh huh, well here. figure you’re almost out of the other one i gave you.” he pushed the bag to you, dropping it on your lap. the smell was potent, each spliff had to have maybe two to four grams worth inside.

you pulled out your phone from you pants pocket, using your face id to open it, “how much you want for it? i just paid rent so if it’s anything more than a bill, ima have to hand it back.” you went to your messages with him tapping on your apple pay.

“i just want you to smoke one with me. no money.” he leaned his head back against the headrest, looking at you with tired but hopeful eyes.

it sounded like a simple request, but you know what came with it. the flirtatious banter and innuendos. circling around the topic of your relationship but never diving in. the stories of all the demons he’s been fighting. how he wishes you would come back to him.

you were his person after all. no one understood suna quite like you. you had a lifetime-lasting ticket to suna. from who he was to what he liked, his coping mechanisms, his defense ones; his favorite things, his most hated moments…you knew him probably better than he knew himself.

but you should tell him no. you should thank him for the offer but push the bag back into his possession. you should decline and leave the car. leave and break the cycle you found yourself in. this toxic reconciliation cycle.

but he was right. you were almost out, and you were planning to text him for a re-up anyways. and his car was really warm in comparison to outside. why waste a few moments of warming up?

after all, suna was always there when you needed him, weed-related needs aside. like when you had missed the bus and was running late to class (one you had to go to because there was an in-class assignment), you called suna and in five minutes he arrived to your apartment to take you to class. and he even waited until you finished to treat you to ice cream. he was also your go-to whenever you were sad—or even when you wanted to share good news with somebody.

so because of this, it was easy for you to relax back in the car seat, pulling one of the spliffs out of the bag with a huff. “you have a light?” you ask him with your hand out towards him, opened and waiting for him to put whatever bic lighter he had in his cup holder in your hand.

suna instead plucked the spliff from your fingers, and when he noticed your irritated face, he shrugged, “whoever rolls lights first. otherwise it’s bad luck for ‘em. you want me to have bad luck, yeah?” he had a smirk, taunting you with glimmer in his eyes and wiggling brows.

you would normally be playful back, usually biting the bullet and letting suna’s stupid jokes win you over. however, this time wasn’t like the other times.

you were really mad at him.

he had been seen around campus with like three different girls, all under his arm with hearts in their eyes looking at him. yes, you two were no longer together, but you still had a habit of being jealous whenever you saw or heard of new women in suna’s life.

and then on your way home today, as you passed by the usual coffee shop that was in between your college and your home, you saw through the window none other than suna, holding hands with a woman you didn’t know, but knew you hated. their hands were on the table, his thumb rubbing the back of hers and staring intently into her eyes. you couldn’t make out what he was saying, but by the way the girl tucked some hair behind her ear and looked down to avoid suna’s gaze, you could tell what type of conversation they were having.

“yes.” you said quietly, just as he slapped a lighter into your hand. he wasn’t thinking that you’d respond, let alone actually answering the question. but when he heard it, he looked up with his brows furrowed.

“now that’s just mean, sunshine. y’know you oughta be nicer to me. i’m a sensitive soul, remember.” he said with a pout and hand to his heart.

you rolled your eyes, “whatever suna.” you glanced down at the lighter in your hand. it was a gold zippo lighter. engraved on it was ‘if my soul was a spliff, you’d be like… the flame to it.’ —something you had said to him when you two were together, cuddled up in bed and off some pot brownies you bought from osamu.

“y’know,” you started, low eyes watching the screen before you as you lied on suna’s chest, arms wrapped around him. he was sitting up in the bed, running his finger back and forth on your arm. he put on bobs burgers, the two of you really wanting it for more background noise then entertainment.

“if my soul was a spliff, you’d be like…the flame to it.” your face was pressed against his chest so your words were a bit muffled, but he heard you and immediately cracked up in fits of laughter.

“no more edibles for you, sunshine.” he said with a giggle, secretly loving what you said. his cheeks started to get warm, and he was happy you weren’t focused on his face so you couldn’t see him. but he didn’t realize you could hear his heartbeat pick up.

“you still have this?” you asked him, looking at the engraved words, rubbing a finger over them. you gifted the lighter to him as a spontaneous and romantic gift. because of his…line of work, suna was always showering you with gifts. if he was out and saw something that reminded him of you? he got it. saw you glancing just a little too much at something in a store window? it’s yours in the next five minutes.

so how do you top a lot of small gifts? with one big, meaningful, romantic gift. and it just so happened to be an engraved lighter with the first time you ever told him what he meant to you.

suna shrugged, putting the spliff between his lips. “some chick told me refillable is to show how our love will never end. thought she was a sappy thing, that one.” he said. when he watched the way your face dropped at his choice of words, he laughed.

“but i think she was onto something.” he took your wrist, bringing it to him so you could light his spliff. you flicked open the top and did as he wanted, watching the cherry form at the end of the spliff. suna always rolled the spliff around the flame, burning it evenly to avoid it canoeing.

he looked at you through his lashes as you lit the spliff, his honey colored, fox eyes glowing with the help of the flame. your eyes looked to his for a moment, and when you met his gaze, you felt a rush through your body.

when it was good, you moved back quickly, closing the lighter but still keeping it in your hand. you squeezed it, a lame way to channel whatever feeling entered your body. it was either squeezing the lighter or your thighs, and lord only knows the ego suna would get if he caught that.

you cleared your throat, “she might’ve just been dumb and in love.” you mumbled as a response. it wasn’t like your rebuttal wasn’t true. when it had come down to it, you were an honors student with a 3.4 gpa. you were going to go in your future career as a dominating force, immovable. so why the hell was your brain so empty when it came to suna? why was it so easy for him to takeover your world?

“you think it was dumb?”

“i think it was unrealistic. love can end.” you didn’t make eye contact with him. you just stared at the lighter.

suna shook his head and clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth. “not ours, y/n. we’re too strong to end.” he passed you the spliff, blowing the smoke he inhaled out. you accepted it and took a long pull, feeling the smoke fill your chest.

when you exhaled, a scoff followed after, “you didn’t seem to think that when you had all those women under you on campus, though. you’ve curated quite the fan club from what i’ve seen.”

“your jealousy is flattering, sunshine. but i only have eyes for you.” suna didn’t take you seriously, he never did when you got jealous.

this time, you forced a laugh in response. “ha! there’s no way you’re saying that to me after i literally saw you with another girl at what used to be our place. starin’ at the bitch like she was all that.” you took one last pull before handing the spliff back to him. you folded your arms, sucking your teeth with a pout. “i’m not blind, suna.” you finished, letting him know that you will be addressing what you saw today.

suna was never one for confrontation—honestly, his reasoning was simply because he never cared enough to. but then he met you, and his entire self flipped on its axis. before, when faced with a situation suna didn’t let it stress him past the moment. you hated how nonchalant he was, but he told you it was just his nature.

but you were everything against suna’s nature. you weren’t nonchalant, you weren’t the calm and reasonable type. when you got angry you would see red and your mouth would grow hot with insults for whoever pissed you off and then some. and soon enough, some of your short-tempered ways transferred to suna. he never got to the ‘seeing red’ level, but it was fair to say he would be on the borderline every now and again.

before, when you’d bring up any problems you had about suna, he would be with folded arms and a straight face, either sitting or standing. he wouldn’t egg you on or snap at you, rather he would just take a deep breath and take full accountability, apologizing and moving on.

but now? ohhh! say something to him. no, really—suna wants you to try him. he wants nothing more than for you to keep the rather bitter and hostile energy you had towards him so that he could take it and give it back to you.

suna rolled his eyes in response, “and i’m not deaf y/n. so give me a break! as if you’re innocent? like i don’t hear how atsumu stays calling you names like ‘sweatheart’ and ‘baby’ whenever you’re in his radius? or how he can’t shut up in the locker room about how cute you looked? you’re throwing stones from a glass house, y/n.” his tone was condescending, talking down to you almost.

“oh! and let’s not forget how every fuckin’ time we face his school, you think kai is a goddamn comedian. all giggly and ‘kaiii stop’.” he imitated the way you would be around kai, how you would playfully push him away with giggles leaving your lips when kai would ask when you would stop playing and let him take you out.

you huffed, “that’s not the same as all these bitches being under you! do you see me cuddled up w tsumu? or holding hands on a date with kai?!”

despite the two of you in a heated argument, you continued to share the spliff properly. following the instruction, “puff puff pass” and handing it off when the other needed it. you both were annoyed that you had to go into a high mad at each other, but you couldn’t help it.

“we’re not together anymore, y/n! you have no right to be jealous when all i’m doing is living my life! if i wanna go on a date then ima go on a date. if i wanna walk around campus with some girl then i’ll do that. you just said our love isn’t strong, but now i can’t move on? make that make sense…”

you pushed your lips out, nodding at his words. not because you agreed, but because you were going to be on some petty shit (since that’s obviously what he wanted to do). “ight.” you simply said, taking the spliff from him while at the same time opening your phone.

the car grew quiet after that, you didn’t leave, and suna didn’t say anything more. he simply watched as you tapped away on your phone with one hand while you smoked with the other.

you soon handed him back the spliff, only glancing at him to see if he’d take it. he did, but there was no doubt he did with hesitation, wondering what you were thinking. he decided to just shelf it, maybe let the moment settle and apologize for his outburst.

but all that went flying out the window when he heard the voice of kai nobuyuki come from your phone.

“baby, just text me whenever you’re ready and i’ll come get you. i gotta see you in that lil’ teal number. you’re killing me here.”

and suna finally saw red.

he snatched your phone from your hand, giving you no time to process what happened until he was out the car, reading through your messages with kai.

“what the hell is he texting you at midnight for?” suna asked as he scrolled up to a conversation you and kai had a last night. “ ‘that picture of you has been doing something to me’ ?? what fucking picture did you send him, huh?!” he tried to scroll up to find it, but it was gone, all he saw was the message you sent along with it,

y/n

do you like it? 🥹i thought of you when i bought it

“suna what the fuck!” you climbed out the car, walking around to grab your phone from him. but suna was a step ahead of you, running to the other side as you came around. “you just told me i don’t have the right to be jealous. hypocrite!”

suna didn’t respond to you, not when he was too focused on going to your photos to find the date of the conversation, hoping to find the photo. your camera roll was filled with memes and pictures of you, some goofy ones you took to send to your friends group chat, some aesthetically pleasing ones for your social media, and just random ones. one suna wanted to make his lockscreen because he missed turning on his phone and seeing your face.

when he found the date that matched with your message, there was a picture of you standing in a store, taking a mirror selfie. you were wearing a black skirt, converse and a white nike crewneck; your bum length braids were tied half up half down as you snapped the picture, glossed lips puckered and fingers up in a peace sign.

it should be a normal picture, one suna should’ve just glanced over. but what caught his attention was the store you were in. it was your favorite place to shop, and you were standing in the lingerie section of the establishment.

“so we buyin’ lingerie for other people now? are you out of your mind?!” he yelled. he swiped, and there was a picture taken from your room. you were bending facing the phone, the shot only capturing your pouty lips and figure in the black lace lingerie set. your cleavage was on full display, with your hand cupping you right breast, french tip acrylics contrasting with the black lace.

he swiped again. you were in a teal, babydoll nightgown, posing with your back to the mirror as you ever so slightly lifted up one side of the dress, showcasing just a peek of your ass. it was enough to get his dick to twitch, and if it did that to him, he could only imagine what seeing you like this did to kai. suna was fuming. this had to have been the photo kai got.

a dark chuckle left suna’s lips, one that surprised both you and him. you hadn’t heard something like this come from him. usually when he was mad he would disassociate himself from the situation, but he wasn’t just mad this time.

he was downright pissed!

“rintarō, you said it yourself we’re done—.”

“because it’s what you wanted me to say. just like how you said our love isn’t forever and that it was dumb and unrealistic. that’s what you said! so of course i’m not going to oppose.”

“and you taking my phone is showing me…that i’m wrong?” you asked with a quizzical look, taunting him. “because this just seems to me like i’m right. like you said, we can move on. since that’s what you wanna do then let me do it.”

suna felt like he was losing his mind, “are you dumb?” he asked, getting you to blink in confusion. “like have you actually smoked your last brain cell? i don’t want to move on, y/n! why the hell do you think i still come here? i still sell to you?” he stepped closer to you. “every fucking time i try there you are. stupid eyes just calling me back, every. damn. time. i try another girl, i end up seeing you. i want to fuck on someone new? my dick can’t get up unless it’s to you. i physically cannot move on. ”

you immediately rolled your eyes. suna had played this game one too many times with you. went on a whole ramble about how you plagued his mind when you two weren’t together. at first you bought it. the second time too because he laid it on thick. but now? you were immune.

fool me once, shame on you. fool me twice, shame on me…

“am i supposed to believe that? like i didn’t see what i saw today? because it physically looked like you were capable of moving on to me.”

“and what you’re not?” suna was practically spoon feeding you the attitude you were giving him. “because kai would attest to that.” he waved your phone in your face, still opened on the messages with you and kai. you tried to reach for it, but suna was taller than you by a decent amount so he simply raised his hand, stopping you from getting it. you glared at him. neither of you said anything. you just stared at one another in angry silence.

this always happens! every couple months or so, you and suna part ways and do what is a poor attempt at moving on. it never works out though—maybe will last a month at most, but always ends up with one of you in the other’s bedroom, taking hits of his dab pen and cuddled up, back together once again.

it was like you two had built-in magnets for each other. no matter how far you tried to go, no matter how big a gap suna would put between you two, you would always come back to one another.

so would this time be any different?

[xx-vergil-xx]

btw — since i’ve gone and posted fic for the first time in epochs, seems a decent time to do a hounds progress update — i’m in the single digits on chapters left to write ! just started a new job, which has cons (tired, cog in the machine) and also pros (money, a weird amount of downtime with a laptop for a 9-5), so boss makes a dollar i make a dime i write fanfiction on company time is the song of the hour

anyway just want to let y’all know we’re still plugging away over here, albeit at an exponentially slower pace than this time last year (who was she) — my personal goal is to be done before 2024 and that strikes me as reasonable enough to achieve, all things considered :) just wanted to provide something for any interested parties since i’m Using This App again for things other than relogging house md — thanks for your infinite saintly patience and i hope everyone is having a crisp and lovely november

[msmargaretmurry]

it was about your actual eldest daughter quinn cisswap fic :D

hahahaha thank you for clarifying <3 even though it would have been a delightful message either way

i'm so pleased to hear it though! i love her so much, i am slowly but doggedly plugging away at that fic in the precious free time i have and i am looking forward to hopefully one day share her with you and the five other people who are excited to read her story. also it's been a while since i wrote a female protagonist and it's been such a fun and interesting writing process digging into how the gender of it all does or doesn't change things.

anyway! have a little snippet of exposition!! <3

Technically, Quinn met Brady before they were fifteen. The elite hockey world is small, and they played with and against each other at various youth tournaments, but fifteen is when everything really started. Women in the NHL were no longer brand new, although still treated like a novelty — as if that’s ever going to change — but having girls in the national team development program was still in the experimental stages. After all, international competition was still strictly gendered. Someone had convinced the powers that be that if the best girls in the game were legitimately shooting for the NHL now, then it was good for the Americans to at least present the illusion of equal institutional support, the same way Sweden and Finland were doing. Can’t be falling behind the Europeans.

So the program wanted Quinn. Her parents, despite her years on boys’ teams and her tenuous commitment to Michigan, whose D-I hockey team did not historically include girls, had expressed some reservations about sending her off to live in an environment that was 90% teen boys before her sixteenth birthday. They were supportive, yeah, but they kept asking about special accommodations — a phrase that Quinn at fifteen loathed, feeling that it highlighted a difference between her and the boys that she would prefer for everyone to just forget about. But Brady, obviously, was also program-bound, and at a spring tournament in Wisconsin, Quinn’s coach connected Quinn’s parents with Keith and Chantal. Their dads already knew each other from years in the league: Jim behind the bench and in front offices, Keith on the ice. Both families familiar with the other from years of running in the same circles. The Tkachuks, it turned out, had a place in Ann Arbor while their boys were in the program, and they would be happy to let Quinn have the basement apartment, if some guaranteed parental supervision from a take-no-shit NHL veteran would put everyone’s minds at ease.

Brady, tall and gangly with his sweaty curls matted to his head, had watched the adults deliberating for half a minute, then turned to Quinn, stuck his hand out, and said, “Hey, how ya doing? That was a sick goal from the point your last game. Seriously, hell of a shot. I pointed it out to my dad and he was like, well, yeah, Brady, you could do that too if you didn’t have legs like spaghetti noodles. So I guess it’s gonna be leg day every day this summer.”

Quinn, once she had processed all of this, her hand still being shaken, had said, “Uh, yeah, looks like you could really use some work in that department.” Then she winced internally, because, yeah, great first impression on the kid whose parents were brokering her path to the NHL right at that moment. But Brady just laughed.

“So you think you’re gonna come to the program?” he asked.

Quinn nodded at the council of grown-ups. “If they let me, yeah.”

“They’ll let you. You’re too good not to go,” Brady said, so breezily assured that for a moment Quinn forgot why she had doubts. “It’s great. You’ll love it. My brother is there and he loves it. He says it’s not weird at all having girls around. I mean, like, obviously, we’ve got Nicky and Rach on our team right now and they’re great so I didn’t think it would be weird anyway. But Matthew says—” he laughed again, shaking his head “—he says, ‘just remember, you can hit them, but don’t hit on them, and it’ll all be fine.’” 

Despite herself, by this point, Quinn was grinning. “Sounds like a pretty good rule.”

“Yeah, he’s a knucklehead, but sometimes he pops out a gem like that,” Brady said.

“Brothers are usually knuckleheads.”

“True. Wait, hey.”

Quinn gave him a sidelong look, one eyebrow raised. He slugged her in the shoulder.

“Quinny, come here a sec,” her mom said, and that’s how Quinn wound up living in Brady Tkachuk’s basement for two years.

[pipermca]

Writing Update - October 2024

Time continues at a blistering pace again. (And here I thought I learned the speed of time was a constant. Obviously not.)

I am loving the influx of new fans Transformers: One has brought in. Most of them are (obviously) in the MegOP camp, which I haven't written a ton of, but I think some folks are branching out into other ships/fics as well, after finding out what the fandom has to offer.

Me: Can I interest you in a little Bluestreak/Hound? It's warm fuzzies and fluffy comfort! Or possibly a Barricade/Bluestreak/Prowl/Smokescreen polycule to spice up your reading? 😅

Anyway. I ran a poll to see what fic I should work on for my 100th fic on AO3, and the werewolf!Hound story won out. I finished that this month (which accounted for most of my writing), which means I did not finish the draft of The Prime and His Protector. But I'm stilll plugging away at that one. (I was struggling with a couple of those chapters, writing a start and then trashing it, but I think I have an idea on how to tackle them now.)

In October I wrote 12,457 words, zooming past that 3000 word goal. And since Nanowrimo isn't a thing I want to participate in anymore (especially under current management), I'm just going to do my own thing. So I'm setting November's writing goal at 5000 words, and we'll see how I do.

Posted/ing

Feral Code. 15,200 words. This was the self-indulgent werewolf!Hound story I mentioned. It started off as prompts a few years ago, and now I was able to give it the ending I'd always intended.

The Prime and His Protector. 34,000 words posted so far, and I have about 31,000 still in draft. About four chapters remain to be written.

[judesmoonbeauty]

Rambles Post: Includes spoilers for Gil’s route kind of.

Wants to write, but is too tired. Wants to translate, but is too tired. Wants to play LBC White Day Event….yeah, too tired. This is my punishment for allowing Gilbert von Obsidian control my life for the last 22 hours. Hopefully, after a good night’s rest we can get back to other things, but…..

I played Gil’s route on JP, so I pretty much knew everything, still I’m so happy we finally have it on EN server. I remember crying for Gilbert when I played in JP, and I’m so glad that I didn’t this time round. That’s mostly because I was focused on a specific goal. Tbh, I haven’t even read through all the premiums, side stories and epilogues. I’ve got to go back to those tomorrow or something.

Anyway, I think one of the things I enjoy about Gilbert/his route is that is allows you so much interaction with HIM. Idk, I feel like sometimes with the other LIs you do get to interact with them as often or rather, another side character takes over. Example: I feel like Rio overran Silvio’s a little too much. That’s just my opinion though. But with Gilbert’s route, you get to have Gilbert glued to you 24/7. He goes away for like half chapter once or twice, but that’s it.

NGL, I’m also quite sad that Gilbert is here because that means we are going to entering the realm of Act 3 or the Sequel routes for the princes, which means, the newer foreign princes are on their way too. I mean, yea, it’s not gonna happen tomorrow, but I feel like Gilbert is the crescendo that marks the finality of the original princes and ushers in a new era. So, while that’s exciting, it’s also a little sad in a way because I find myself wondering things like:

I wonder when Cybird is going to stop expanding the world of IkePri? Are Azel, Kagari and Matthias it? Will there be more? If not, for how long will the game continue? I mean it could be planned for a while, but then you wonder: Will they pull the plug on it like they did IkeRev, if let’s say, IkeVil becomes the greater moneymaker? I mean I probably is by now.

Ok, I’m gonna stop now. Exhaustion is setting in and I’ve truly started rambling.

[always-me-meha]

Sooo insanity has turned up abit.

Im tryna run a bath but the plug is hovering in circles or sliding 😵‍💫 I was like it's a puck! Curling rock! Ooooo..... ufo.

I know in reality it's not moving. But I see it and it is.....

Can one manage living with hallucinations while being self aware they are not there or i mean how as i see it???

⚠️Extremely long word vomit, dropping off topic constantly. Totally sound cooked haha I'm not.

I might put this to a test. I have a psychiatrist appointment on the 28th anyway if I lose it completely lololol

The goal is to manage my symptoms, aka hiding them from the 'real world, folks, friends, maybe bf. While also living with them face to face, haha inner self to self.

Like damn tumblr, get ready to be my crutch for the next two weeks. If I have to act normal infront of people, imma needa release lol.

Imma take notes of this shit going on in my head till I can piece it together and show the bf damn proof or at least a clear visual representing to EXPLAIN exactly what I'm seeing, and freaking out about and believing is fucking true.

As once again I struggle to put words to the knowledge in my head LMAO.

I kinda mentioned the show we watched last night, he didn't really act anything about it.

It's fucked in my head for me that's shit was intense like looking at a past life of ours or something front in of me in real life that other people can see lolol I thought he felt how I felt to watching it.

But nah, he didn't get it. Cool beans.... another Easter egg.

Fuck maybe I'm so sucked away from reality. Movies and tv shows feed my delusions, gives more beliefs, and theories made up in my head to be legit. they're an escape as well. To pointI can't just watch any old movie.... it actually has to catche my attention to the point I'm so attached to it like.... it fuels something inside me. I'm actually able to point the phone down and focus.

I donno where I was going with that. Convincing my self last night, that tv episode was just..... a fucking show. There's no real... idk what they are..... grrrr I don't wanna let this theory go. Never in my life have I seen a show like that, felt like my life.

Maybe it's cause we had a wicked intense make out session before he put it on and he made look me at the TV just as the guy and her started partying and hooking up all intensely like we were. So I was just feel all that grrrr fire I guess I donno dammit what's it called!!!!!

Just I can say I fell madly in heat hahahaha yet it feels like a fever dream now funny. weird. Maybe that's why I felt so focused to the TV lol cause it was 'us' at the moment. Then he looked like man. Black clothes. Piercings tattoos almost in the same spots. I look nothing like the bimbo lol but her lust for him and the way she starred at him is so me. They way they'd stay in bed or fuck everywhere lol I'm like shit balls we need to do that more. I think made the heat rise in the room even more lol

But I'mma pause here and put it on. I wanna list every 'Easter egg' I seen. Like I swear even tho it's based on that couple, we were meant to watch it cause it's like seeing who we are from another reality in away idk smh. Idk if meant to watch it general, but I think he was meant to show me it at that exact day and moment.

(Going off topic)

Timing is everything..... it's crazy what all in the world happens in one minute...... all these people in the world is doing everything and anything imaginable this very second. It's crazy to think about. Idk even know if yall get me there....

Example. I'm fucking still sitting on the side of this bathtub typing this lol someone else is typing accounting at their pc, another's gaming, ones picking his nose, a groups on yacht partying, ones picking up cans, driving somewhere, doing the dirty, making art, building towns, welding ships. Dancing the pole lol, creating glass art, you name it.

So fucking much going on in the world this very minuet..... well that last minuet plus now lol.

And I'm still here typing away habahaha I move to the bed least. Fuck chill girl, have a bath, lol why was I even thinking of the world just now.... hmm distraction to stay in the reality lane. Interesting.... masking symptoms!!!

But fuck yes that episode man!!!! Grrrr caige had to have felt at least something of it. Especially when the guy asked her to marry him.

He looked at me and said what would I say if I proved liked that lmfao I was like I'd be shy af cause you put me on the spot in a crowd lol but of course I'd say yes. Fuck intense perfect night..... but.....

I hate how he's hot and heavy. And then in the morning it's like meh. Snuggles. Wake up gotta go. No intensity, while I myself still have the energy inside me from it lmfao I donno the word for it... just for me it was a really good night tho I fucking got lost in that show. But I am crazy rn so guess it's different.

Fuck the guy even has has.... personal similarities other then looks and the attuide, give no fucks guy, as caige lol. Me and her not really besides I get really ditzy my self. When my smart, thinking meter disappeared wah. And just that obession over him!!!! The sexual fire ro devour him lolol at all times, everywhere.

But in our reality.... haha we old. Drugs took a beaten to uh body ..... i forgot the word dammit....., I will say no more lolol that's why you fucking make it the best you can in all ways, other then just popping it in, so old school lol haha

Heheheh gotta work for that moment lololol now I'm just talking sex here I'm sorry. But dammit I've been with to many hooks that were just BLAH. That it was all same man, just a stupid body counr rising.

So having sex with someone who loves you and building up to it is much for funner and better and just grrrr intense. (Don't forget I have hypersexuality lmfao bipolar emotions even more amped up) like he traced all over my body with a knife one time. Fucking different as hell ( I always loved him tracing with iPad pen sooo) but I was like I trust you and dark kinky hehehehe

Omg tho he spanked way to hard yesterday repeatedly 🥺🥺🥺 never done that to me before. I was like you supposed do that while I'm bent man lolol just a punishment wahhhhh like shit balls were a mix between just like intensity make out session and pressing against eachother as much as possible. To the biting and choking. Go from soft to idk rough hahahahah grrrrrr fuck Idk why I'm word vomiting all this.

Hey it gives you sex advise to please a women tbh especially one like me HAHA But I'm taken.

But dammit I can't get enough! for someone that wasn't satisfied for like ever hahahaha at least with him it's like fuck yes. Score hahahaha and I don't even have to take care of my self like some women secretly do after lol like WTF where has this man been all my life lol. Poor guys gotta maniac in love with him. So embarrassed he seen me this looney.

Deep down disappointed he didn't tell me to go to my step dad's in the condition I'm in. I think he thinks I'm just high. No bruh this the psychotic side slipping out lol not like murderer psychotic but idk just I say weird shit lol not like the 'earth is flat people' smh hahah like I've been trying to say this whole time. I

There is something here, nort sure exactly where or what, around us or idk .....

One version/theory i can of is like you can roll the sheet down infront of yours (think of sunglasses) and see things in way that idk..... you would never of thought of. Same plain of earth just different...... see what others don't see.

Which fucking doctors say HALLUNINCATIONS and blah blah, you crazy. Maybe maybe. But what if I wasn't and this shits true!!!! And it's fucking everyone else that's just blind. Almost like that movie the giver, how no one saw color, it was taken away, BUT IT WAS STILL THERE. Just had to see it.... not that third eye bullshit, lol or maybe? I quickly read that up for a sec....

I remember seeing posts on this one topic...I obviously forgot what it's called maybe all this confusion in my head is simply just that and many people know actually wtf I'm talking about in the mental health tumblr communiry lol but nah I don't think it's that hahaha just food for thought to had add to theory list. It'd be easy to accept that's what I'm seeing BUT NO

I refuse to accept that lol. This is deeper hrmph and it's been hitting me since 2020. Just flash backs of stuff I was 'believing'. How some of it connects to back then lol

Back then I knew in my head heaven and hell everyone's waiting for is exactly on this earth with them, it's where you choose to be of course or I guess think red dead redemption 2, that good or bad karma bar lol kinda leads you to the side your on. Many are in the grey area not knowing exactly where they stand. Or idk much about it or any of it. Just a theory that clicked to me back then (a belief, right now a theory lol) I guess some people born get the shitty dice roll again you may start at the bottom but you cam still get here. Some get a lucky roll and still end up on the other side, tho they had advantages. Don't ask me why dice is involved at all. Part of God's game? Creator? Whoever you believe in.

And hell and heaven is what you make it i guess to. Nothings the sane for everyone. So fucking weird man to think about. Almost like the show upload but without the fucking uploading part lol. Natural way of fuckin life hahaha

As spirits or souls go or do as the please! Like god damn we dont really know do we..... i believe they're real, even fuck.

Zombies could be real lmfao they are depressed empty people like myself ( in my long depression episodes that is ) just drag along life, not really here, maybe eat brains lolol jk naw that's straight cannibals. Anything in this world that scares me is that, mountain man cannibals.

Anywho I was told everything goes black when you die... naw no way. That's like Detroit become human the robots or whatever that would break through thw third wall to be there own.... indiviual with feelings and pain as humans. To not be controlled anymore and stand up for themselves, basically escape and be free cause they we're being mistreated and abused and lots were scared to die cause there'd be nothing? They didn't know what would happen.

I don't know why I compare to games or movies as examples haha makes it easier I think for some to understand who know the reference or so haha.

Oh shit time to take notes.

[imunbreakabledude]

I would love to aim for elite combat achievements on OSRS in the short-medium term both to develop my pvm skills and for the perks (notably, the boosted slayer superior rate, i would love to have that as soon as possible before i grind more slayer). but the point threshhold sure does look high when i look at it in the interface...

so to see how feasible it is and make a game plan, I put together a spreadsheet. logging down all the tasks that seem definitely doable or with a little Stretch of my abilities, by learning some bosses I haven't done before (or haven't done outside of leagues) but that seem feasible to do with a decent number of attempts with the gear i currently have on the iron. I also noted which ones felt certainly doable and which ones seemed 'tough' but possible if i needed the points, to try to get a sense of how many of those 'tough' ones i'd need to dip into to hit elite.

friends, even including all the 'tougher' tasks i noted down, my potential points are still like 200 shy of the elite threshold lmaoo i really need to do more pvm (mainly raiding, a tonnn of points that theoretically Aren't That Difficult are behind raids) but then it all comes back to. i should have bowfa before i do that. like technically a lot if not all of these are possible without bowfa but I know i need to get it anyway and i know it makes learning cox and toa both much much much easier. along with like, a lot of other bosses - zulrah, GWD, muspah, etc etc etc.

i'm on the grind and don't mind plugging away but i like having other activities to mix it up and still feel like i'm progressing... I don't want to feel like i'm in the Red Prison but I do understand why that is a term now lol

i have a goal to have bowfa before 2100 total so i can keep focused and not put it off with too much skilling but then that also makes me feel bad when i skill because it's like it's bringing my deadline closer bahahaha

[firstclassent]

[Interview] Tiffany Takeda opens up on High Low podcast

Fresh from her AVN performance, Tiffany Takeda broke her silence by sitting down for an exclusive interview with Emily Ratakowski's High Low podcast.

On her upbringing in France and becoming a K-pop idol:

"I grew up in Marseille and my mother would always put me in beauty pageants and dance competitions. She was really strict and wanted me to be perfect in every way. She was a singer when she was younger and dreamed of going to Eurovision but she fell pregnant with me right before signing a record deal. My dad is Christian and wouldn't let her get an abortion, so she lost the deal and then blamed me for it. She always resented my existence, but I think she also viewed me as a way to live out her dreams vicariously. My goal was to transfer to a performing arts school in New York and pursue professional ballet, but my dad is Korean and introduced my mom to K-pop and she thought I'd have more chance making it as an idol because I'm so pretty, so she sent me off to Seoul to train and then I got signed pretty quickly after that."

On being exploited in K-pop:

"The entire K-pop industry is built on exploitation and I think my group experienced the worst of it. Our agency was small so we had to do crazy things to stand out. One of the first ad campaigns I got was for Marc Jacobs footwear and I had to pose naked in nothing but the brand's shoes. My bandmate, who was raised in America, did a nude PETA endorsement. It was crazy. We were looked at more as foreign artists rather than Korean, so we got marketed like Britney and Christina did. They wanted us to be really sexy and provocative all the time. You couldn't get away with it now because the industry has changed so much and artists have more rights. Even though we hated it, it helped us become really successful, but also caused a lot of backlash that still exists to this day. No matter how much we achieve we still get hate comments for everything we do in Korea. At one point we even started working in Japan and China just to get away from it all."

On her horrifying experience with Playboy:

"My bandmate Suzy posed for Playboy first and it was a huge hit, so they wanted me to do it next. Because I had a retro image at the time they came up with a plan for me to crossover into the US market by recreating a classic Marilyn Monroe pictorial. I agreed, but I was adamant that I'd be fully clothed and we'd keep it tasteful and classy. I went to Hugh Hefner's mansion to shoot it with my old manager, Trina and as soon as I got there Hef and Trina were trying to convince me to show more skin but I refused. We had a huge fight about it and I threatened to pull the plug on the entire shoot. They told me to go wait in one of the bedrooms to cool off, and said that once I calmed down we could do the shoot how I wanted. They gave me some green tea to relax me, and after that everything is a blur. I can barely remember the shoot, but I know some bad things happened. Anyway, when the photos came out I was completely topless - I was so embarrassed. To make it even worse, I had to promote the issue in Las Vegas and on the Howard Stern show. I smiled through the pain and pretended that I was proud of it, but I wasn't."

Why she returned to Playboy as a creator and director:

"For me, the decision to partner with Playboy was about taking my power back. Hef is dead now, god rest his soul, and they have new owners now. Once they approached me to replace Cardi B and explained how empowering their new creator platform is, I was sold. For the first time in my career I was able to monetize myself on my own terms with full control. There's nobody to direct me or pressure me or exploit me. I've even put out music through my Playboy page and I was able to experiment with new sounds and lyrics that I can't do in Asia. As far as my career goes this has opened up so many new doors, but on an emotional level I've been able to heal past traumas."

On finding financial freedom:

"I can't say how much I've made on Playboy but I will say it's the most lucrative thing that I've ever done. Me and my group were taken advantage of financially throughout our entire careers, you wouldn't believe how bad it's been. Almost every label we've been a part of has ripped us off, including the last label we were with, P Nation. We ran our own independent agency for a while but the overhead was so expensive that we barely broke even. Even before we debuted we had to do crazy things for money as trainees. I also lost millions on a lingerie line I had after my business partner scammed me. This is all very common for the idol industry, but we had it worse because of our old managers. There was actually an Italian girl that used to be in our group, but after she was fired she ended up on Skid Row. Jessica recently saw her back in Seoul and said she was begging for money and wanted to do a comeback tour, it was really sad. We wanted to help her out but we've had to enforce boundaries because she was kicked out for bullying... Anyway, thanks to Playboy I've paid off all my debts and started to invest in property, and Jessica has a big partnership with Amazon. We also sold the rights to our entire catalogue to Hybe, so financially we've all never been better."

Her next career move:

"Right now I'm just settling into my new life in Hollywood. I'm putting myself first which I've never done before. I have a lot of offers on the table but I have no idea what I want to do. Maybe I'll launch a Vegas show, write a book, I don't know. I have a lot of stories to share..."

[tk-tastic]

I'm jumping in because you're literally the first person in 12 years to have this same theory as me (I have a cringey 2014 flipnote to prove it lmao) were literally doing this right now

I've got more evidence. And disclaimer, I know this is just a theory, I'm not to be taken seriously. I'm also not defending Turbo, he's clearly not the misunderstood villain but anyway, Here's everything I've been holding in since 2014 with no one to infodump to-

Cybugs take on the appearance of the things they consume, not vice versa, and while it could be argued King Candy was the only example we see in the movie of a "sentient" character being decoured, I'd offer Calhoun and her first partner as another example. Now *technically,* this story is written into her code, so its likely not meant to be an accurate representation of what happens when someone is eaten by a cybug, but humor me, if her partner ended up in the same place as King Candy, why didn't he take over the cybugs body? Why did Calhoun immediately open fire if there was any chance he could gain control?

As for King Candy's final form, I like the parallels of Turbo and the cybugs being a virus, and I offer a counter theory. The cybugs know they're a virus and are actively trying to take over the arcade. It's in their code to do so. I can't, however, see much motivation for Turbo to do the same. What's his ultimate goal? To get every game unplugged? I really agree with OP here that this was the cybug talking, not Turbo, especially since it's the same bug that Ralph brought there in the first place. He's had a good hiding place in Sugar Rush and I can't imagine he'd be so eager to destroy the entire arcade.

Counterpoint to my own point, though, if running into Roadblasters was an angry, impulsive reaction, I can see him taking advantage of unexpected power to impulsively try to seize more.

I also agree that Felix could be an unreliable narrator. Not that he's particularly wrong or being deceitful, but the story has been repeated for so long and there was only one perspective, from the outside. It's implied the other racers in the games didn't escape before the games were unplugged, so they had no input on how the story was told. Again, not saying Turbo is misunderstood, but maybe there's more to it than him being a big jealous asshole (probably not, because he *is* a big jealous asshole and we love that for him)

Okay, I've got more theories. I'm sorry-

I used to obsess over how the code worked and what it meant to manipulate it. It's established that Vanellope crossing the finish line would reset the game, and that has spawned a few ideas on its own.

I'd imagine every time she raced she undid the elaborate code work he'd worked on, since it replaced her wires and literally reset the entire kingdom at the end of the movie I'd assume it fixes any tweaks or changes in the original coding. In order to stay hidden and stay King Candy, he had to keep her from racing. There was more to it than just dethroning a nine year old, lmao

Also, also- if you die outside your game you don't respawn, but if Turbo plugged wires from the game into his code, does that mean he *can* respawn? Or has he been living in Sugar Rush one wipeout away from death this entire time? And *if he can respawn,* the cybug/King Candy hybrid died *before* She crossed the line to fix everything, *therefore* its not unreasonable to think that he had time to respawn before the code was reset and his code was no longer a part of Sugar Rush. Ergo Turbo is still alive. I rest my case.

The konami sequence Turbo used to get into the code was written on a Tapper napkin. Who got him that info? Who was he meeting with?? Who taught him what he knows??? How much time did he have with Sugar Rush to practice the manipulation? I have questions that no one can answer.

There's more but I'm shutting up now

Ok so @king-crawler technically I finished your 2 hour Turbo documentary yesterday at 3 AM BUT regardless I have recentlt watched it and I have a LOT I'd like to say, clarify details or lil things you might have missed or could be interpreted differently when you look at them another way :3

With that last bit I am diving head first into the flashback scene since it's heavily referencing that.

First and foremost, keep in mind that it is being narrated from Felix's point of view- remember that he was in his game doing his job when the accident happened, it was while every person ever was inside their respective game being busy being used as avatars; also referencing back what you said on Felix- he's not exactly the most understanding of others' situations, he stays well within his comfort zone. Keep that in mind.

When Roadblasters is plugged in the flashback, you can see the two players using TurboTime immediately abandon the game to check out the new one, and the screen Turbo's pixelated image apoears on is completely dark, don't you think that is very reminiscent of a Game Over screen? 🙃 meaning, the two players abandoned Turbo in the middle of a race, likely causing him to crash and lose.

Remember King Candy's shock, and sudden change in behaviour as soon as he sees Vanellope sprinting past him? What follows is a volatile fit of rage and violence when things don't go his way, this sudden change of trajectory. Wouldn't you reckon this moment could mirror how Turbo felt in the flashback? He's being used as an avatar, and suddenly he loses control as he gets ditched and gets his race put to a halt. That initial shock of "what is going on. This wasn't supposed to happen!"

Following that, while I don't doubt he got jealous, he SPRINTED into Roadblasters the moment he lost... but not to try to take it over- to take petty revenge instead, interrupting the players' race and causing them to crash just like they did to him, preventing him from winning in his game. Picture it as a "if I can't have this, then you won't have it either" type mentality towards Roadblasters.

Going back to Felix and why his ignorance/remaining within his bubble could have possibility caused him to misread Turbo's intentions. Felix also is one to make assumptions in the beginning of the movie, like how for example when trying to calm the Nicelanders when Ralph goes missing: "Ralph probably fell asleep in Tapper's bathroom again!" Or some such. It makes sense he would make assumptions about Turbo as well, ESPECIALLY if he knew him personally and how self-obsessed he is. Doesn't take a genius to realize this guy does not like to lose.

Secondly, the final boss scene. King Candybug in general really. I disagree with your idea that Turbo has always been this hungry for power he'd want to take over the entire arcade. We both know that if that happened, if every game was infested by Cy-bugs, Litwak would be forced to close down his business because all of the games would be unplayable. His 'attention' wouldn't last very long if every game gets unplugged, his thought process to take over the arcade is purely manic and deranged for someone like him who has been well-known to be a master manipulator, able to keep a stable facade for over a decade without wanting to take over other racing games? That 'taking over the arcade' sounds very unlike him. It sounds more like... a cy-bug's programming. A cy-bug's programming that has gained enough conciousness to start plotting and planning. Because it now has the intelligence of a person, fused with him, learned what he knows.

Speaking of which, remember the cybug that ate King Candy?

Look at it's candy-pattern. Haven't we seen that somewhere before...?

Oh right! Right here, when the cybug eats some pepperming roots.

The same cybug that ended up there after falling into the taffy lake... after being ejected from a shuttle.

The same cybug that Ralph brought with himself.

What was the very first thing that King Candybug said to ralph when they see eachother again for the showdown?

"Because of you, Ralph, I'm now the most powerful virus in the arcade!"

I don't think, during this one moment at least, that this was Turbo speaking.

[nx-communicato]

How many times have I asked for you to come to me with questions instead of assuming you know what I’m thinking. Yet still all I see are judgements unfairly cast against my intent, against my honor and my character, and opposite to that which I was actually thinking or trying to accomplish. I love you 424574514 (or 179449, or 24183, or 935516, or whatever). But this is straight insanity. How can you say

“I’m going to text the lawyer baby.. so I can know what details you’re sending to me “

That now they’ve seen, what a wanker I am and for you to accuse me of infidelity while you are lying to me the whole time. Have you ever loved me? I am starting to question it. You thought (apparently) that you had caught me trying to pick up on a random woman, I am guessing? If I am wrong please let me know. I knew it was you the whole time, I even said so under my breathe at the beginning, “ok, baby. I’ll play along.” If you don’t believe me reread the conversation. I put in plugs that ONLY you and no one else would get! Also, I mentioned this the other day, flashing tits on my screen does not “lure” me in (although I will say good job on keeping the face behind the window on my screen so I couldn’t see it). It really and truly is crushing to my soul when I realize how low of an opinion you all have for me. To think that I forgot that I have kids to pay for, when repeatedly over the last couple years I was given an option to have the amount readjusted because of the loss of income and each and every time I refused the offer fully aware that the total debt would skyrocket, and despite the fact that the original monthly amount was based on 82843’s falsified records, and irregardless of the fact that is was 82843’s fault that I became unable to work by having her children unknowingly deliver a tin full of asceriae sarcoptes mites into my household (and she thought she got away with it) as well as utilizing the lit of you to harry my ability to get better in so doing allowing me no option but to accrue debt. Which, I reiterate I could have chosen to have reduced repeatedly, but I wanted to “do the right thing” thinking that when cured I would work doubles until it was paid off. But in this way, I would not feel like I had paid less than my share despite her lies and manipulations which nobody even questioned. Strangely, whenever I speak I am told I am crazy, I am wrong, or I am speaking out of turn it’s getting too repetitive! Why is it so difficult to allow a chance that I might be right? I am not saying I always am,but why are you saying I never am?

I have been enduring this in solitary for almost four months now and been nothing but 100% faithful despite being under a constant barrage of attempts by you and your sisters/mother/friends/etc. inspite of the non-stop back and forth “is she married, is she not?” “Is she seeing someone, is she not?” Where I ask you to find one other man on the face of this earth that would have borne that heartache while smiling back and promising to be your friend anyways. So you caught me masterbating, big deal give a guy a little privacy! Besides that I was jerking off to old pictures of you (tastefully, they weren’t even nudes) so you can say that is creepy, or call it lewd, but don’t you dare accuse me of being unfaithful. I have been mothing except a shining example to you of unconditional love, and what have I received in return?: lies, deceit, and attempted mind-control. If your goal is to continue this treatment forever until I slip up and you finally catch me “cheating”, then you may as well quit. If you and your family decide I am not worthy of joining you it is your choice to make, but I am through being slandered and not defending myself!! That is what has caused all of the problems in the first place. And now that this smear campaign has been running for so long now for you Paige, people believe it without giving me a fair trial. Devastated by your life hackers, deceived and betrayed by all whom I care for, tormented by demons from below and admonished by the angels above, I say, “ ENOUGH!” I love you all but this is enough. With no defense or explanation given I have been condemned to hell and I have still, throughout it all, been the most loving, caring, faithful, trustworthy and honest one out of all. So judge me on that!

[geoffrard]

please tell me more about this geoff/gerard proof 👀

anon how much time do u have

thought about being jokingly tinhatting with my response to this but i dont actually think they full fucked or whatever. so instead i'm just gonna dump several thousand words of an earnest attempt to outline why geoff and gerard deserve the same treatment received by other legendary canonical friendships like bert & gerard, mikey & pete, etc etc

also i caught the riot fest covid so idk how comprensible i will be. and idk how much sense some of this will make if you don't already have, like, rudimentary knowledge about geoff rickly's start in the hardcore scene in new brunswick, nj, so obligatory plug of the thursday primer that me and nic @raytorosaurus put out a while ago.

but tl;dr, geoff rickly and gerard way were drawn to each other literally from the beginning. since then, neither have left the other's orbit. they are legit cosmically connected narrative foils who could have been each other's closest confidant but never have been more than incredibly meaningful people to the other due to instance after instance of wrong place, wrong time.

i'll do my best to sum up some of the most poignant moments in their over twenty-year-long friendship, but nic and i are drafting several other posts that more diligently delineate the connections between thursday and mcr in their overlapping, mirrored careers and similarities/divergences in their goals/approaches as musicians.

so anyway despite what you might have assumed from the story that goes around where geoff heard gerard and mikey (badly) playing vampires at the eyeball house and wasn't impressed, i believe that at that point they'd already been friends for a while.

this is how gerard recalls the moment he met geoff:

Way: I remember it super vividly. Do you remember? I was walking out of the record shop that Alex [Saavedra, Eyeball Records] worked at on Kearny Avenue and you were standing against a wall wearing a black t-shirt. You were rail skinny and you looked like you were dying and you were so pale with this jet black hair. Rickly: My vegan lifestyle was not agreeing with me. Way: It looked like the sun was killing him. [long pause] And I thought he was super cool. (from their interview with vice in 2015)

long pause and i thought he was super cool.....like....

this is what geoff looked like back then btw. im guessing it was around 2000/early 2001 that they met since thats the outer limits of geoff's black hair goth days

(source)

gerard designed shirts for bands in the scene, including this one for thursday, probably done around 2001 when the dove became the main symbol associated with thursday. at this point mikey was a regular at the eyeball house but gerard was still hiding away in his house, but would always talk about his brother.

Geoff: "I knew Mikey from parties at the eyeball house. I liked Mikey a lot, and he was like, 'you're gonna love my brother Gee (he called him Gee all the time), Gerard, he's the best comic book artist, he's always at home, just working on comic books.' So I was like yeah, I wanna meet this kid, you know, I wanna make comic books with him, you know, that sounds awesome!" (source)

after that geoff kept asking mikey when his brother would come down to the eyeball house, because he'd loved comics since he was a kid, but he was too shy to verbalize that, and his love of comics wasn't something he'd ever actually shared with anyone other than his grandmother, who had just passed away, but he heard that this quiet guy who'd sometimes hang out with the scene's resident kid brother was this amazing comic book artist, and geoff decided that gerard was a person he wanted to know.

So like they were literally talking about writing a comic book together: geoff would write and gerard would draw. but they never were able to spend that much time together. thursday found massive and unanticipated success in late 2001 when understanding in a car crash started playing on mtv nonstop and gerard was still a hermit for the most part but had started to piece together the band that would become my chemical romance.

so then blah blah blah the story where gerard and mikey introduced the idea of their band to geoff we've all heard it. i linked it above but you can read the excerpt from dan ozzi's sellout here if you aren't familiar with the details already.

and that story ends with geoff listening to their demo and realizing that this little band actually had something. but i firmly believe that geoff loved the scene and was so compelled by gerard's art and wanted to collaborate creatively with him that he would have been willing to do it regardless of if he came around to their music or not.

geoff said this in a podcast in 2018:

"Gerard is sort of like... when he's not sort of hiding out in his house somewhere, he's actually so charming and personable. There's a reason why I was so drawn to him, and that he's, like, a superstar."

obviously we'll never know, because geoff was so compelled by the music that he played their demo to death in the tour van and then took the only two weeks that thursday had off in one of the busiest years of their career while in the midst of a super contentious legal affair with their record label to produce bullets.

okay now that i am looking at what i have written so far i look like an insane person and that is okay but i think that i will save the rest for another longer post about the fated careers of mcr and thursday. but i feel that i have done my job by just giving you this taste. more to come but their friendship literally so expansive and detailed (in ways that I don't usually see articulated here) that a single tumblr post is never going to do it justice. as i said, stay tuned, we're working on something more.

tl;dr (another one) gerard and geoff are perennially obsessed with each other & have been since literally the first time that they laid eyes on each other and it comes out the second that either of them have to be even a little reflective on the other's career thanks for reading my manifesto bye.

[autumn-oceanopromises]

@grimfox​:

speaking as someone who wrote predominantly dark, edgy, torn rippy lovelorn lovelost traumacausing traumacaused poetry before I started doing the count (I don’t remember the url which inspired me to start counting, but I’m fairly certain I started keeping count out of spite -- there was this dude called steven I think and his profile pic had a guitar who reblogged his own stuff to boost the note count, iirc, and I got jealous that he’d got up to 300+ while I was plugging away without numbers. anyway it means something very different to me now so I probably should thank him if he’s still around on tumblr. this was like ten years ago. eight. eight years ago.). I set myself a goal to write 10,000 poems to get me out of a less dark and more featureless stretching gloomy void, and although that number on my blog does say 9000 to go.... It’s really closer to 8000, or will be as soon as I hit (1000); there’s about 1000 lots darker, ragier, nihilisticer, frankly kinda narcississississticer poetry before the brackets started up. Technically the first 1000 was all that dark and desperate stuff, albeit mostly just raw ramblings, and the rest of this, definitely the last 500, has been all the shit that’s happened since then and while moving towards contentment, being happy, and being self-loved (since this gigantic anthology also involves at least three relationships, all the way through their romance and through their ending). In a lot of ways this poetry is my recovery or is at least signposts along the way. So if nothing else you know that it’s at least possible that being content doesn’t make other people lose writing.

......I got super sidetracked, but what I meant to say was - in regards to you: you won’t lose your poetry. You won’t, you won’t, you won’t.

You get more things to write about instead. Way more things. You don’t ever really lose the stuff you write about now. You just also get the climb, you get the peak, you get the times when you're on top of the world and you're so in love with someone or with the world and you want to capture it forever. you also get the frankly really fucking frequent backslides, you also get the moments where you catch your breath and you go, oh shit, the world is beautiful. My world is beautiful. I’m good (enough). She's gorgeous inside and out and I'm so damn lucky I can't even make words. My world is amazing and I get to see it and I get to be here. you get to look back at where you came from and damn, that’s a long way you’ve come but you haven’t gone anywhere at all at the same time. because truth is that none of us get happy endings with a snap of our fingers. we all had to, have to, work for it, the ups and the downs, the pulling ourselves away from the grasp of that shit that’s got a damn firm hold of us.

--and poetry is form: and the other reason why you won’t lose your poetry, is that poetry at the end of the day when the night falls is a skill, the way you’ve learned how to play with words, it’s seeing all the facets of them, seeing the way they bend and snap into place, nesting/bedding/ in sand, the twist of them and the rhyme of them knowing what rules to break and what rules you wanna break the feel and the flow and the flight and the rhyme and the form. and the form, whether it’s pantoums or free verse or sonnets or ghazals or duotyches or villanelles or haikus or tankas or shi or sagas or ballads or couplets or all the shallow and the deep stanzas of reversals and mirrors and hijacks and loveletters and collabs and messages and raps and songs; there’s so much ground to cover and so much to love and learn and freely explore and master. and you don’t lose that. you don’t lose your tips and tricks that make writing poetry easier and faster for you. and even if you do you can get them back again. So even if you go away, even if you take a hiatus for years and years because you’re happy, at last, you’re happy, you won’t lose your poetry.  

Because - at least, I feel this way, especially when it comes to poets and writing poetry - writing poetry is like a clam polishing a pearl. You get a bit of sand caught in the filters, an intrusive thought, kinda, and then you polish and polish until something comes out of it. sometimes you polish for like months, other times you give it one good scrub with the clam-cloth and dump it back in the ocean. Sometimes what comes out is a misshapen bead attached to like four other camel-hump beads, but you like it. Sometimes what comes out is a pearl and everyone starts craving it but it kinda looks like a flat ball to you. sometimes the flat balls start looking like pearls after the ocean’s had a go at it. I got faster and faster at polishing sand lumps that I kinda like for myself. You will too, if that’s what you want. sand lumps and lava lumps. I don’t know what I’m saying. Where did this metaphor go, wtaf.

I don’t know if you’ve ever read something by inkskinned? that open letter on your tumblr kinda reminds me of the secrets series she did, years back - the series that really propelled her gigantic rise (yes, her words 100% did it because her words are still mad beautiful ten years on, but also because it really was in the zeitgeist of tumblr poetry and prose of the time. i own her book. i love her stuff. please read her stuff if you haven’t already.) i was fortunate enough to do a collab with her when she was still collabing with people, before that gigantic and massive rise. maybe i’ll get to see you rise too. you definitely deserve it.

anyway. what i meant to say was: like the secrets series, you’re channeling something wider and vaster and beautiful, to put gorgeous words to what people put in your inbox. and maybe it feels like losing, right now, to be happy and loved and content, like it feels like you’d be losing a part of you that you find to be beautiful, maybe it’s the only thing right now that you feel is beautiful about you. because the dark is beautiful, even when it’s bloody and gory and raw and painful and visceral. but it’s not the only thing that is beautiful about you, and you won’t ever lose your poetry when you become loved and content and happy.

you only ever gain. you only ever gain.

if i become happy and loved and content, will i lose my poetry? stay tuned

[serendipitous-magic]

What is your writing advice for young people who want to write fanfiction and original stories in the near future?

If this is just Way Too Much, skip to the end (#16). My most important piece of advice is there. I also happen to think #5 is pretty good.

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1) Literally just write. Write whatever you want, and do a lot of it.

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2) You don’t have to post everything. In fact you don’t have to post anything. You can, don’t get me wrong, but it can be intimidating to sit down and think “I will now write something that other people will see and read and judge with their eyeballs.” Because that’s probably gonna lead to nerves and writer's block. Just write down the ideas that you have, the things you want to write, whatever’s in your brain that you want to explore and expand upon and make into something. And then if you want to, share it. Or don’t share it. I have plenty of half-baked ideas and documents and random story chapters and shit hidden away on my Google Drive that will never see the light of day, for a whole number of reasons. I wanted to write it but it wasn’t ~Spicy~ enough to warrant posting, or it’s only like an eighth of a good idea, or it’s like one scene with no story around it, or it’s just something incredibly self-indulgent I just wanted to write for my own enjoyment.

Point being, don’t write for other people. Don’t write so that other people can read it; write what you want, write for yourself, and then if you want to share it, do.

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3) You can pretty much ignore any and all of these for fanfiction. In fact, you can ignore pretty much any rules or guidelines you want for fanfiction. Fanfic is a sandbox. You don’t have to be a “professional writer” to post fic. No one expects you to be Stephen King or Margaret Atwood. Fanfic is just for playing in a fandom and having fun. If you wanna write a 50 chapter slow burn with very little plot aside from the OTP slowly getting to know each other, and no real stakes or central conflict, I guarantee people would read that. Really, fanfiction is the Old West of writing: lawless, wild, unpredictable, and free.

However, here are the rules you must follow:

-Separate your paragraphs. (I’m sure you know this already, but I’m gonna say it anyway just in case.) Do not post one big block of text. Make a paragraph break when someone new is talking, when the characters are in a new place, when a new event occurs that changes the scene, when a chunk of time has passed, and when there’s a major change in subject.

-I know it’s obvious, but... grammar, punctuation, and capitalization. They exist to make writing easy for readers to read, and more people will read your stuff if they don’t have to stop and try to figure out what you meant.

-Use tags and labels, as is possible with whatever site you’re using. Especially if you include possibly triggering content in your story. Again, I know it’s obvious, but it’s common courtesy. Bonus: tagging the themes and content of your story helps readers find it and read it :)

-If possible, limit the use of all-caps and exclamation marks / question marks. 99% of the time, one ! or one ? will do. If you overload the page with a lot of all-caps and long rows of exclamation marks or question marks, it hampers readability.

... That’s literally all I can think of. And, like I said, it’s all pretty basic stuff. You were probably rolling your eyes like, “Uh, yeah, Gwen, I know.” But that’s literally it. You can pretty much do whatever you want in fanfic.

That being said, here’s my advice for both fanfiction and original work...

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4) A quick and dirty rule for coming up with a plot, starting a story, keeping up pacing, or maintaining tension: figure out what dreams, desires, and goals are nearest and dearest to your main character’s heart (see #16). Then set up the main conflict to be directly in opposition to that goal. It doesn���t have to be in a tangible way, though it could be. But, if your main character wants more than anything to reach the ships on the southern coast of your world and sail to a new life, make sure the main conflict immediately prevents them from doing that - in fact, make sure to send them north. If your main character just wants to keep their loved ones safe, kidnap the loved ones. If your main character just wants to date their best-friend-turned-crush, make sure they think they have no chance - or, make them cocky about it, and make sure it makes Person B determined not to ever like them. You get it. Figure out what your character most wants, and then keep them from having that. Boom - your conflict now ties in with your character's motivation. It's like instant yeast for plots.

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5) If you’re anything like me, you want your first draft to be Good, despite all that advice about how the first draft doesn’t have to be good and it’s just to get words on the page, yadda yadda. And if you’re somewhat of a perfectionist (like myself), it’s easy to get stuck looking at a blank page because you don’t have The Perfect Words, and you want what you write to be Good the first time.

Here’s how I cheat that:

Instead of trying to write a Good First Draft from a blank page, hit the enter key a few times, skip a little down on the page, change your ink to red (or blue, or whatever - just something immediately identifiable as Not Black) and just thought vomit. Write whatever the hell you’re thinking, exactly as you think it. Don’t worry about it being readable, don’t worry about narrative flow for now, don’t worry about covering all the details, don’t worry about anything except either a) getting all the details of your idea out onto the page, whether that’s a lot or whether it’s just a sentence or two, or b) if you don’t have an idea yet, finding your way there.

Because this method is also very good for finding your way to ideas when you’re stuck in writer’s block.

Because of how human brains work, getting this stuff out onto the page - in all its messy, stream-of-consciousness glory - will likely spark more thoughts. As you write your original idea about the scene, it’ll likely spark more ideas. Creation begets creation. If you just start thought-vomiting your ideas onto the page, chances are you’ll think of more things as you go, and you’ll start filling out description or dialogue or tone or action or whatever, and pretty soon the scene starts writing itself.

Not sure where you’re going with the scene or which ideas you wanna use? Use a lot of ambivalent language in your “thought-vomit draft.” My pre-writing notes are chock-full of the words “maybe,” “perhaps,” and the phrases, “At some point...” and “...or something like that.” In this way, I don’t tie myself down to one idea; it’s just an idea, and I’m keeping it on the page in case I use it, but I might chuck it in the trash or change it or whatever.

And then, once your ideas for the scene (or story, or chapter, or whatever) are on the page, then go back to the top and start translating them into a “real” first draft. Use black ink, and start copy-pasting chunks of the thought-vomit up into the top part of the document and translating them into Draft 1. Separate out paragraphs where paragraph breaks should be. Add the correct punctuation and whatnot. Change “describe the lobby here - include potted plants, fancy carpet, blood stain, etc.” into an actual description of the lobby. Flesh it out, or condense, or whatever it needs. And if you’re still stuck, change back to red ink and ramble some more until you find a path that feels right, then plug that in. This keeps you from looking at a blank page, and it allows you to generate a kind of Draft 0.5, somewhere between a plan and a first draft.

You don’t have to use every idea. Like I said, jot down whatever comes to mind, put a “maybe” before or after it, and keep working. If the idea grabs you and you wanna keep expanding on it and exploring it, cool. If you just wanna jot it down so you don’t forget it and then move on, also cool. Red-ink draft / “thought-vomit draft” is your time to jump around in the timeline, add or finesse details at whatever point your brain moves to, etc. Don’t try to do it exactly in story order, because you will get tangential thoughts and ideas, and you will not remember to write them down five pages later when you finally get to taking notes on that scene. Trust me. On that note...

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6) Write everything down the moment you think of it. Seriously.

“I’ll remember it when I get around to writing that scene in a couple days / weeks / months (/years).”

You won’t.

Write it down.

Phone, journal, google docs - hell, my family regularly laughs at me for grabbing a napkin during dinner and scribbling thoughts down alongside pasta sauce stains.

And then, once you have it written down somewhere...

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7) Consolidate your writing ideas in one place.

Maybe this isn’t really your style, and that’s totally chill.

Buuuut, if you’re Type-A like me - or if you tend to be somewhat unorganized and you know you’ll lose track of your writing notes if they’re scattered across multiple notebooks, journals, napkins, phone notes, etc. - having one consolidated document of notes is a life saver. I keep mine on Google Docs so I can access it, add to it, and look through it for inspiration anywhere at any time. When I have one of those Shower Thoughts that I jot down on my phone or on a napkin during dinner, I set myself a reminder on my phone to type it up in my Story Ideas document later.

(Or, if the idea I had was for a story of mine that I’ve already started planning / drafting / whatever, I put it in the document for that story instead of the Big Random Story Ideas doc. You get it.)

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8) Have other ways to collect and save writing ideas, besides just writing stuff down. If you like Pinterest, make pinterest boards of your characters or stories or settings or whatever. If you’re big into playlists, make a playlist for your character / setting / story / etc. Or both. Or something else. I’m not good at drawing, but maybe you are, and maybe you like to draw your ideas. Whatever form it takes, having another way to save ideas and think about your stories is invaluable.

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9) Some writers can just start writing with no idea where the story is going, and they just kind of figure it out as they go. I envy those writers. And I do that sometimes for fanfiction, where the stakes are somewhat lower and the audience is reading more for scene-to-scene enjoyment (and to see their OTP kiss) than for a Driving And Compelling Narrative.

But here’s the thing: especially if you’re just kind of starting out, writing without some sort of plan is really, really hard, and will likely lead you into a slow, meandering narrative that will likely frustrate you.

Even if you think you’re someone that just can’t write with a plan (and again, I have the highest respect for pansters out there - I don’t know how you do it, you crazy bastards, but you keep doing you) - even if you think “I can’t work with plans, they’re too prescriptive, I just want to write and see what happens -”

Try at least making the most skeletal of plans.

Even if you have no clue what 90% of the story is, yet. That’s fine. But you need to have some idea of what you’re building to, even if that’s nothing more specific than a feeling, or a turning point for your character. Even if your entire plan for everything beyond Chapter 1 is, “At some point, Charlie needs to realize that Ed was lying to her.”

This is where those Draft 0.5 notes come in handy. Because, more than likely, working on your current scene that way will spark ideas for later scenes, which you can put down at the bottom of the document and save for when they become relevant. In my experience, the line between planning ahead and making a Draft 0.5 is exceptionally thin. One can quickly turn into the other.

If you’re really, really resistant to the idea of planning ahead, that’s okay. It’s not everybody’s style. But for the love of all that is holy, write down your ideas for future scenes, even if you’re a person that doesn’t like to plan and writes only in story order, because you will not remember that idea once you get to that scene.

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10) You don’t have to write in order.

Here’s the thing: I’m a person that can only do my Draft 1 in story order (meaning, chronological order). I just have to be in that flow; I need to write in story order for me to best channel where the character is at from scene to scene, both narratively and emotionally.

But my Thought Vomit Draft is another thing entirely. By using the brain hack of putting my notes in red (or another color, it doesn’t matter) and going down to the bottom of the document / page and taking notes there, and then integrating them into whatever plan I have, and then translating them into Draft 1 once I get there in the story - by doing that, I can get my good ideas onto the page (and expound upon them and let my muse carry me and ride that momentum while I’m in the moment of inspiration) without writing out of order.

Maybe that’s just me. But if you’re a person who really prefers to write in story order, that could be hugely helpful to you. It is to me.

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11) Emotion and motivation will do more for your story than technicalities of plot.

If your characters really care about something, and their journey through the (shaky or weak) plot is emotionally engaging, it will be a much more compelling story than a story with a “perfect” plot and unrelatable or unmotivated characters.

If your characters care about what they’re doing, and it means something to them, and their goals and actions are driven by dreams or fears or emotions that are integral to who they are, your audience will care too. If you have a perfectly crafted plot that hits all the right beats and has high stakes and fast pacing and drama - but your characters don’t connect with what’s happening in a way that’s deeply meaningful or emotional for them? You’re gonna have a hard time engaging readers.

When in doubt, prioritize character emotion and motivation over plot. Emotion is what drives story.

This power is highly exploitable. (Just look at pulp novels and shitty but entertaining movies.) You can even use it to glaze over plot holes or reinvigorate a limp narrative. Use it that way sparingly, though. It’s a band-aid, not a surgery. 

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12) Evil villains are hard to write - mostly because there are very few truly evil people in the world. (There are a few. Billionaires and several big name politicians come to mind.) But by and large, there aren’t that many evil people. There are plenty of bad people, but bad people have some good in them, somewhere in there. Trying to write an evil villain is hard, because they often turn very cartoony.

Here’s a tip: it’s much easier to write antagonists who aren’t evil. Even if they’re bad people. Of course, there’s no reason you can’t write a villain that’s just truly evil - a serial killer, or an abuser, or a billionaire, or someone who legit just wants to hurt people or blow up the earth or stay in control of an oppressed population, or whatever. But chances are, it’s gonna be really hard to make them feel real, and even harder to create a plot around them that doesn’t feel forced or contrived.

Instead, try writing an antagonist / villain whose motivations and goals directly clash with your protagonist’s - but not because they want to take over the world or see people suffer. Write an antagonist who’s chaotic good, but whose perception of the situation is completely opposite from your hero’s. Write an antagonist whose only desire is to save people, and who will do anything to achieve that goal - anything. Write an antagonist who believes in the letter of the law, and will hinder and oppose the hero’s methods even if they agree with the hero’s motivation. Write an antagonist who got in way over their head and did some things they regret, and now they don’t know how to get out, and they’re doing their best but whatever they set in motion is too powerful for them to stop now.

Write villains who are human. Write a killer who thought they were doing the right thing by taking their victim out of the equation, who vomits at the sight of the body and sobs over the grave they dig. Write a government leader who truly believes she’s doing what’s best for her people in the long-term, even if it might hurt them in the short term, and is willing to endure the hatred and belligerence of the masses if it means securing what she thinks is a better future for her people. Write a teenage bully that thinks they’re the one being picked on by the world, and they’re just fighting back, standing their ground. Write a scientist who will break any code of ethics and hurt anyone he needs to - in order to bring back his baby sister from the grave, because he promised her he’d protect her and he failed. Write an antagonist who is selfish and self-centered and capricious - because in order to survive they had to look out for Number One, and that habit ain’t about to break anytime soon.

Write villains who aren’t even villains. Write antagonists who oppose the hero because of moral differences. Write antagonists who are trying to do the right thing. Write antagonists who treat the heroes with kindness and dignity and respect and gentleness.

They don’t have to be good. They don’t have to be Misunderstood Sweethearts who “deserve” a redemption arc. They can be cruel and nasty and dismissive and callous and violent and etc. etc.

Just hesitate before you make them Evil-with-a-capital-E. Because evil is hard to write, and honestly, boring to read. Flawed human beings with goals and motivations that directly oppose the main characters’ are much easier to write and much more interesting to read.

Ask why. Why is your villain trying to take over the world? What does that even mean? Are they trying to create a Star-Trek-like post-capitalism utopia, but they know that won’t happen in a million lifetimes, so they’re trying to do it by force? Are they actually super in favor of human rights, but they got very impatient waiting for the world to do anything about poverty and war, so they decided to take it into their own hands? Are they determined to fix the world - no matter the cost? Are they terrified and overwhelmed, but committed to see it through to the end? Or - maybe they’re just doing it on a dare. Maybe they don’t really give a shit about world domination, they were just a mediocre rich white guy who decided to fuck around and find out, and now he’s kind of curious how far he can take this thing. And now he’s kind of an internationally-wanted criminal, so he’s kind of stuck living on his hidden private island in his multi-billion dollar secret base, strapping lasers to sharks’ heads for the hell of it. Gross, selfish, uncaring, and dangerous? For sure. Evil? Depends on your definition. See, now we’re getting somewhere.

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13) It’s tempting to let the plot control the characters. It’s easy to drop your characters into a situation and see how they react. But here’s the thing: that doesn’t drive plot. In fact, it bogs down pacing. Instead, try to build you plot off of your characters’ actions and decisions. Let your character build their own situation. Not to say it should go they way they wanted it to go; in fact, usually, their grand plans should go to hell very quickly. But having the characters take action and make decisions, and letting the plot develop based on that, is much easier to make compelling than making a rigid series of events and then trying to herd your characters into them.

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14) Having trouble justifying a character’s actions? Consider having them make the opposite decision, or having them approach the situation in a different way. For example: you need your character to go meet the bad guy, for plot reasons, even though there’s no way it’s not a trap. If the character goes, readers are gonna be groaning with their head in their hands, because c’mon man, that was really fucking stupid. But he’s gotta go, because the plot needs that. Two ways you might handle this: a) He knows it’s probably a trap. He decides not to go. The plot conspires to get him near the villain anyway. Or, b) He knows it’s a trap. But he needs to go, for (insert reasons here). So, he approaches it in an unexpected way. He brings backup, recruiting a side character we met earlier in the story. Or he arrives on the back of a dragon, because ain’t nobody gonna fuck with a dude on a dragon. Or he goes - early, and ambushes the villain. It may work, it may not. He may get himself kidnapped anyway. But it moves the plot along without having Stupid Hero Syndrome.

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15) This is a legit piece of advice: if all of this sounds overwhelming, literally just ignore it and write what you want. For real. Writing should be fun, and every single writer operates differently. If you’re sitting here like “I’m getting stressed just reading this,” just flip me a good-natured bird and get on with your life. I promise I won’t take it personally. Same goes for literally any other writing advice you see. Lots of rules and guidelines can very quickly make anything thoroughly un-fun. Just write. If you’re passionate about it and you do it for long enough, you’ll start figuring out the tips and tricks on your own.

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16) Here’s the best piece of advice I can give you: know your characters. More importantly, know what’s important to them. Build their personality and decisions off of that, and build your plot off of their decisions.

I see a lot of character building sheets that ask a shit-ton of questions like “What’s their most prized possession?” “Do they like their family?” “What’s their favorite food?”

And while these are good questions, my problem with this type of character building is that if you start there, with the little stuff, you’re building on nothing. IMO, to make a truly strong character (not strong like Inner Strength, strong like effective), you need a strong foundation.

Here are the things you must know about your character:

a) What are their greatest fears / deepest insecurities? And I don’t mean “wasps” or “heights.” I mean the deep shit. I mean fears like “living a meaningless life,” or “turning out just like their parents,” or “that no one will ever love them,” or “being powerless.” You may say, “But they’re really scared of wasps! They fall into a wasp nest when they were little and got stung so much they almost died!” Great! That’s a fantastic bit of backstory. They should absolutely be afraid of wasps, and that should absolutely be an impediment later in the story. But dig deeper. What about that event actually scarred them? Was it the helplessness? Stumbling around, swatting at the air, not being able to do a single thing to stop what was happening to them? Was it that they were alone, and no matter how loud they screamed, no one was coming? Was it the bodily horror of feeling themself turn into an inhuman creature as they swelled up from the stings, unable to move their fingers or face normally anymore?

And don’t forget insecurities, because those factor in, too. Are they deeply insecure about their identity? Do they believe, deep down, that they’re ugly? Did they grow up poor and they’ve always been really touchy about that? Why? Dig deep. Figure out what really, really bothers them.

b) What are their hopes and dreams? What do they truly want out of life? What do they consider the most valuable to their experience here in this thing called life? Is it the freedom to forge their own path and be independent? Is it the approval of their family or peers? Is it a home? Is it knowledge, or understanding? Spiritual fulfillment? Is it deeply important to them that they contribute to their community, or protect those they love? What do they need in order to feel truly and deeply fulfilled in life?

Figure out those two things (each one encompasses several things, btw, you don’t have to stop at just one for each), and then use that to inform how they behave and the types of decisions they make within the story. 

It also informs character behavior and personality. 

Let’s say we have a character who’s afraid of helplessness. They’re probably gonna be the person that always wants to do something, try something, no matter how hopeless the situation seems. They’d despise just sitting and waiting, probably, because it makes them feel powerless. They might even be the person that makes rash decisions and acts impulsively and puts themself in danger unnecessarily, because in their mind it’s better than being at the mercy of fate. This is one way you could use a character’s personality to inform their decisions, which in turn helps to inform plot.

Or, let’s say we have a character whose greatest fear is being left behind or forgotten. We may have a chatterbox on our hands. They might be obnoxious. They might love the spotlight, constantly vying for attention no matter the situation, because deep down they’re so afraid that they’d be forgotten otherwise. Or, it may go the opposite way. They may be so afraid of people leaving them that they’re terrified of bothering people. They don’t want to do anything that could annoy people, anything that might give people a reason to leave them. They might be exceedingly polite, quiet, accommodating. A push-over, really.

These are two nearly opposite types of personalities, both stemming from the same core fear/insecurity. You can go a lot of different ways with it. But if you build on that strong foundation, you’ll have a strong character, and a stronger plot.

Likewise, the structure of your story can and should inform the design of these character traits. If you need your characters to team up near the end, it may be impactful if you give your main character a deep fear of commitment, an insecurity about being unwanted or left behind, and make them highly value independence and freedom. That could make their team-up for the final battle very meaningful. Conversely, you can use your character’s deepest fears and desires to help design the plot. Is your character deeply insecure about voicing their opinions or taking a stand, because of trauma they faced in the past? Make them face that. Build that into the climactic third act. Give them the big inspirational speech where they stand up and talk about what they believe to be important, what they think the group should do. And then design that character arc to run through the story, giving you more handholds and stepping stones, more pieces of foundation on which to design the plot.

In this way, character should inform story as much as story informs character. It’s a feedback loop.

Bonus: if you build your character and your plot off of each other in this way, it automatically starts to build in the foundations of that emotional investment I mentioned earlier. If your character’s decisions are based on what they most want and do not want in life, you basically have your character motivation and stakes pre-built.

Note: you need to know these things about your villain, too.

-_-_-

I’m genuinely sorry about the length of this, lmao. But you did ask.

Best of luck!

Edit: I forgot an important one:

17) Start when the scene starts and end when the scene ends.

What do I mean by that?

If your notes say “Danny asks Nicole out after school and majorly flubs it,” start the scene when Danny approaches Nicole after school. Better yet, cold-open the scene on “I was wondering if, you know, you’d wanna. You know. Hang out some time?”

Don’t start that morning when Danny goes to school, unless you’re gonna cover the school day in like one or two sentences. Don’t spend whole paragraphs going through the school day, unless it’s to cover other plot points first (in which case apply these same guidelines there), or if the paragraphs are there for a specific reason, like to illustrate how stressed he is and how it seems like every little thing is going wrong. Even then, trim the fat as much as possible. Expounding and describing everything Moment-to-moment is for the meat of the scenes, not the leading-up-to and coming-away-from.

Here’s my rule of thumb: study how and when movies cut from scene to scene. Movies have exceptionally strict, limited time for storytelling; they’re excellent examples of starting a scene when the plot point starts and ending when it’s over. If you can’t picture a movie showing everything you showed, start the scene later and end it earlier.