#because I don’t know how to keep things concise sorry!

[cosmic-hoboandthehighlander]

Please tell me more about tedmort as teens if you could!

Play along with my wip ask game here!

Hi Babs! I would LOVE to!

So I was going through my drafts a few weeks back and found this silly idea I had years ago for that scene in My Girl where Thomas Jay and Vada are practicing kissing on their arms that I wrote for another fandom. I really liked the idea but wanted it Tedmort, so I wrote it….

And somehow it went from two shy eleven year olds to 17 year olds spending their last summer together before senior year. This really jump started a lot of my headcanons and ideas for a full-blown high school au (which is kind of in the works, in a variety of ways!) in which Teddy and Mort grew up together and went to school with Bob and Linda. Had to fiddle with ages a little for that one but eh, I don’t really mind!

So this is just a little oneshot, where Teddy asks Mort with help with his budding relationship with Denise by giving him some very platonic, not at all weird kissing lessons. Where he gets the idea that Mort, the weird goth kid who’s never had a girlfriend in his life, who plans pretend funerals for fun, would have any sort of experience with this, nobody knows. But it kind of turns into a whole thing; Teddy sharing a bit about his home life and how he’d like to go into the Navy after school and Mort having a hard time articulating how much he’ll actually miss Teddy if he does. Plus, there’s a bit of a coming out scene (Mort) and it’s very sweet.

The thing is, this au sort of contradicts with a few of my previous headcanons for the characters and their lives but to tell an interesting story, I think it’s alright. It’s an AU after all. I could probably ramble on all day (and I have rambled on for…probably 17 minutes in a voice memo?) on my version of Teddy in this AU and his relationship to his parents, specifically his dad. It’s not necessarily how I think his childhood went in canon, but it’s been fun!

Here’s a teaser because I have no self-control with not sharing things I’m excited about writing:

Teddy didn’t know what else to say, so he cracked a joke, “So what I’m hearing is…I’ve kissed more girls than you.”

Mort rolled his eyes, reaching over to shove Teddy’s shoulder, “You kissed the Genarro sisters.”

“You kissed Gordon Bosco!” Teddy exclaimed and Mort wrapped his arms protectively around his knees, looking very small.

“So?” He mumbled, finally catching Teddy’s eyes. He held his gaze for a long time, before asking quietly, “Does that bother you?”

“No, of course not,” Teddy said honestly, shaking his head. “Why would it bother me?”

“Because…”

“Come on, Mort, you know me better than that. So what, you kissed Gordy. Was he any good?”

“I dunno, I guess.” Mort shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. Teddy nodded, unsure what to say now. He wanted to ask when, how it happened…why. Had Mort started it or did Bosco? Was Mort…like that or was he just messing around.

He couldn’t help his curiosity, though he didn’t want to offend Mort. Touching a hand to Mort’s arm, he flashed Mort a small grin. “You kissed more boys than me.”

“What?” Mort said incredulously, leaning away from Teddy. “What is wrong with you?”

Teddy could tell he was holding back a grin and he chuckled, “It’s true! I’ve never kissed any boys. And you’ve kissed one…I mean, just one, right?”

“Uh…” Mort blushed and Teddy’s eyes went wide.

“You’re holding out on me, Mort! Guess I really did pick the right guy for kissing practice.”

[physalian]

Fuck Grammarly

Okay I need to rant about Grammarly. A program I never used before and never will now. Doubly pissed because their ads keep interrupting my peaceful 4-hour Minecraft music session with their fake-ass influencers.

Guys. Gals. Nonbinary pals.

“As a corporate girlie—” learn how to write a proper concise email.

“I used to spend hours proofreading—” enjoy the process, and then the product.

If you hate proofreading, to the point where you’ll consult a robot to do it all for you, then you hate writing. If all you care about is the end product, sorry to say but ‘writing’ is like, 30% of writing. The other 70% is editing, by design. You’re supposed to like it.

Of course I’d love to have beautiful artwork of whatever’s in my head, but I’m going to love whatever I make a whole lot more than whatever I type into some garbage generator. Because I love the process of creation.

Do I think editing is tedious as hell? Absolutely, but it’s still a tedium that I enjoy. I like fixing my mistakes, I like improving my sentence flow. I like thinking about patterns and connections that I didn’t see before and revising and reworking until I’m satisfied.

For the humdrum day to day work emails that some of us have to write—if you’re sending out whole essays to your coworkers that you need a robot to write for you, you’re doing it wrong. Corporate emails are boring and trite, but I can type out a “hey please do this thing for me” faster than I can load up ChatGPT or Grammarly, type out my prompt, make sure the result is what I actually want to say, and then send it to my coworker. If you can’t, learn.

Apparently, Grammarly used to be a helpful way to check for spelling and grammar errors. I don’t have any issue with the AI that runs spellchecker whatsoever. I type so fast and miss typos constantly and when the spellchecker is absent, like on this website, it’s annoying af.

But that’s not what Grammarly is about anymore, and that’s not what the above ad was trying to sell you, either.

You won’t get better if you don’t practice. You won’t get better if you aren’t the one making, seeing, and fixing your mistakes. Especially if you write fiction where grammar rules are a suggestion at best. My published novel is littered with flagged words and sentence fragments that I know are technically improper English, but I sacrificed an MLA-proof paper for something fun and entertaining.

AI does not understand nuance and flavor text and aesthetic choices. It never will.

If you train yourself by using a crutch you don’t need, you will end up needing it because you’ll be too afraid to act without it.

Fuck up. Make a mess. Make mistakes. You won’t make them for long once you see them. You do not need a robot to do it for you. We’ve been writing books for hundreds of years and all the authors who came before did it just fine without a robot.

This isn’t even about writing novels, it’s about communicating in the written medium. Fucking. Learn. It’s not rocket science, it’s not coding in C++, it’s not brain surgery. It’s stringing words together in a comprehensible sentence.

And obligatory disclaimer: To anyone who has an impairment and needs these tools, this is not about you and you know it.

[belokhvostikova]

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Crying, pregnancy, and brief mentions of body insecurity.

Eddie had told them.

So concisely, and specifically told them all that was forbidden in order to keep his friends from the scrutinizing tears of an anguished pregnant woman, that would have to be followed by a now frustrated father-to-be.

But like clockwork, his word of advice plummeted the second Jonathan Byers decided to speak. In retrospect, he wasn’t at all to blame, in fact, he was attempting to be supportive. And he would have done a great job had his nice words not been targeted to an overly sensitive thirty-four weeks expecting lady.

“Don’t worry,” he’d smiled so kindly, a testament to the Byers politeness that ran through the family, “I’m sure you’ll have a safe and easy delivery. Nothing to stress over.”

But the baby you were carrying was formulated by Munson genes, and the way it head-butted your pancreas, while simultaneously kicking your bladder made it hard to enjoy Jonathan’s sentiment.

“Ugh.” You could only scoff. “What do you know, you’re not pushing a baby out of your vagina.” Doing the one thing he told you not to do: stress.

The panic on Jonathan’s face was quite humorous, at least to Steve Harrington it was. Eddie, on the other hand, was shooting a disappointed glare to his friend. Because he told him. So concisely, and specifically told him.

1. Don’t say anything that’ll upset her.

2. Don’t try to say anything too mushy or nice to make it up for the first mistake, she’ll cry and feel awful about yelling.

3. Honestly, you shouldn’t even really speak to her.

4. But don’t ignore her! She’ll find a way to circle it back to you thinking she looks like a beached whale.

Rule number four had came about after Dustin Henderson tried to maneuver around the monstrosity that was Eddie Munson’s rules. In his own little weird way, he was trying to be helpful after your cries about being big. And Dustin thought it would be a bright idea to say “I happen to like whales.” It did not go over well.

And now, Jonathan Byers was falling into the same cycle.

“No, no!” It was damage control time. “I’m just wishing you and the baby to be okay, I swear. I just want you to be happy and comfortable.”

Bad move. How did he forget rule number two already?

Your face contorted into a deep frown, as your eyes watered, and that panicked look on Jonathan’s face never ceased.

“Oh, god.” Eddie whispered, as the waterworks crashed out.

“That’s so sweet of you!” You bawled. “I was so mean to you, and you were just being niceee!” Your head dropped to Jonathan’s shoulder, wetting his flannel with salty tears that seemed endless. Eddie would thump his friend’s forehead if he had the chance, but instead, he had to do damage control, and his tender hand rubbed your back.

“It’s alright, baby.” He cooed. “It’s totally okay, just let it all out.”

He fervently gestured to Jonathan to add on. This was his mistake, anyways. “There… there.” He awkwardly patted your back. “Yeah, it’s totally okay.”

Steve Harrington was beginning to rethink the whole six little nuggets thing.

Luckily, Jonathan’s words were enough, and you sniffled your way away from his now dampened shoulder.

“I-I’m sorry for crying so much.” Your hurt little face was enough to elicit some aw’s and it’s okay’s from the three men, who jumped to console you.

But then Steve spoke. Unwarrantedly.

“Hey, I’d cry, too, if I had to rip a seven pounder from my body.” He chuckled.

Your face dropped with horror. “Eddie!”

Eddie Munson was going to kill Steve Harrington.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I remember you mentioning A court of Thorns and roses in your posts once when talking about malleus character archetype. Have you read acotar series? If so I really want to know what you think about it. Your post is how I found out this series. It's pretty meh 😕 to me but I would really like to read your thoughts on it 😊. Also are non twst related ask allowed? If not I'm truly sorry😥. You can just ignore this ask

Oh god 😅 That was such a long time ago that I can’t even locate the original post where I made that comment…

To summarize what I said then, I had expressed that the way Malleus is presented to us reminds me of the bad boy supernatural love interests in romantasy novels.I believe the online book community colloquially refers to these characters as “Shadow Daddies�� and I find that hilarious. To clarify, I do NOT mean to say that Malleus is Yuu’s “canon” love interest or anything like that. When I say that Malleus is “like” a Shadow Daddy, it’s just in the tropes they share. (For example, being overpowered, brooding, and misunderstood as a “bad guy” when, in actuality, he has a heart of gold and is just lonely.)

… I’ve actually seen multiple posts comparing Malleus and Rhysand, if you can believe that 💀

The rest of my response isn’t really TWST related, so I’ll put it under the cut for ya ^^ I tried to keep my thoughts concise and free of spoilers.

But to your question! Yes, I actually have read the first three books of ACOTAR but not the novella (A Court of Frost and Starlight) or the sequel, A Court of Silver Flames. I got into the series because it was highly recommended within its genre, but I came out of it really disappointed. I continued reading hoping that it would get better, but it really did not.

Maas has this really melodramatic and yet simultaneously juvenile way of writing dialogue that does not mesh well with what I’m looking for in a romantasy read. She’ll have characters give exposition or speeches that go on for like 10 pages straight and also have supposedly wise ancient fae cracking potty jokes like a middle schooler trying to impress their friends. It makes the books a lot longer than they have to be. In actuality, the plot involves a lot of running around and having all the right questions answered by conveniently placed chess pieces. I also did not enjoy the vague world building (like several side characters are never given proper names and instead are always referred to by title) and the near-constant mention of mating bonds. What I did like was how Maas wrote action scenes and descriptions (even if they often veer into purple prose). She also comes up with some unique concepts—but the execution of those concepts isn’t great, so the ideas are left sort of shallow and floating there waiting to be fully realized.

Romantasy and fairy tale retellings are some of my favorite things to read, so I was sad that I didn’t think that highly of this beloved series. It’s been a while since I’ve read a book I’ve been able to seriously get immersed in 😔 ACOTAR’s explosive popularity has led to many other authors trying to replicate Maas’s success, which has flooded the market with horni fae books and even similar titles (“A [noun] of [nouns] and [nouns]”). (And as someone who does NOT find Malleus attractive at all, you can imagine I’m not thrilled.) I have really mixed feelings about that… While of course I don’t mind if people enjoy ACOTAR or ACOTAR-adjacent books, I dislike that it makes up the bulk of what is marketed to me. It makes it a lot harder to find something that’s more suited to my tastes.

If anyone seeing this post is interested in trying out ACOTAR, I caution you that it is a “new adult” book, meaning it is intended for older teens (I would recommend 18+, honestly). There is a lot of violence and… explicit intimate scenes… in the series.

[act-nat-ural]

Occupied

Chapter Two: The Identity Crisis

(if you want to be added to the tag list lmk!)

chapter 1 \\\ chapter 3

You feel your blood turn to ice. It wasn’t just dumb luck that brought these men to your door, it was a thought-out destination. You narrow your eyes at the man, suspicious of his tone.

“I’m the one who should be asking you that, sir. I’m house-sitting for him. Now, what the hell are You doing here?” You say impatiently. It was easy to forget that they were intruding on you due to the commotion of the bleeding man on your table, yet you remember that they haven’t even properly introduced themselves nor explained their presence.

Two of the men make eye contact with each other, the other nodding in some type of confirmation. The one you were speaking to, the one with the facial hair, raises a single eyebrow at you.

“Enough of the intimidation, miss. It's not going to work with me, so let's drop it and have a civil conversation. Now, if we were to phone Mr. Baker would he confirm your story?”

Ohhhh shit.

No, no he wouldn’t. He doesn’t know you are here, he thinks Eliza is the one house-sitting. You would try to explain the situation but you aren’t sure that these men would believe you. Should you lie? No, you’re almost certain you would get caught in a lie. You can feel the sweat dripping down your neck. You need to think of something and quickly.

You decide the best course of action is to tell the truth. Technically, you haven’t done anything wrong. You still haven’t forgotten that you don’t even know why you have your explain yourself to these men, but you will get your answers soon enough. You must’ve taken too long to get your thoughts in order because by the time you get ready to speak the man in front of you is looking awfully impatient.

“No. No, Adam doesn’t know I’m here.” You state, slowly and concisely. He narrows his eyes at you and goes to speak but you cut him off. You explain the situation and how his sister said you could stay there in her stead, how you are a friend of the family. You look around while you speak, not wishing to gaze straight into his scrutinizing glare. That’s when it catches your eye.

Aha.

You grin and step around him, careful not to walk into the small blood puddle that’s formed on the floor. Damn, you weren’t looking forward to cleaning that up. You reach the wall on the opposite side of the room and snatch the picture frame straight off the shelf. Universal Studios, 2019. Eliza’s family had taken pity on you due to your not having been before and brought you along on their trip. Luckily, there was photo evidence.

“Here.” You hand the framed photo to him, pointing at your grainy face. “That’s me.” He visibly relaxes and hands you the photograph back.

“Sorry for the interrogation, love. You can never be too sure about these types of things.” He apologizes, appearing to be sincere. He’s softened up considerably since you confirmed who you were.

“Thas’ it? She could still be a bloody stalker, cap. Breakin’ into the poor man’s home or somethin’. Lass seems to be the type.” The man on the table slurs out. You scoff. What the hell is wrong with these people? Where are their goddamn manners?

“Listen, buddy, I am most certainly not a stalker. And I’m not the one who’s laying on someone else’s table bleeding out, and not saying why they’re here!” You exclaim, exasperated.

“‘m not bleeding out anymore, hen.” He grins wolfishly, gesturing to his stitches. “Glad to ken you care about little ol’ me.” You just huff and roll your eyes in response. 

“Is someone going to clean that up? Because I don’t think it should have to be me.” You ask, referring to the mess on the tiles. “Also, you still haven’t said your names and what you are doing here.”

The man that the others refer to as captain sighs and nods. “Alright. We’ll explain. Could you show ‘im where you keep the bleach?” He asks of you, nodding his head to the masked man. Jesus, you almost forgot about him. It was hard not to with how quiet he was.

You nod silently and head to the laundry room out towards the back of the house. He follows closely and silently, not attempting to make any type of small talk. You bring him to the cabinet containing the cleaning fluids.

“I’m not exactly sure where it is, I haven’t needed it yet.” You explain a little shyly. He just nods and gets on his knees, searching the small cabinet. You almost don’t notice the blood seeping out of his upper thigh, eyes widening in realization.

“Oh my god! I can get it, just sit down!” He pauses for a moment before listening, sitting off to the side. You find and grab the bleach, quickly closing the cabinet doors. You face him and say, “I’ll go fetch your friend with the first aid kit, alright? Just… don’t bleed on the floor.” He does nothing but grunt in confirmation.

You speed walk down the hallway, bleach in hand. You wouldn’t normally be in such a hurry but you aren’t exactly sure how long his leg wound has been open for. However, when you reach the door to the dining room you hesitate. You can hear the others having a heated discussion in the other room.

“Captain, please listen to me. Telling her our names could have serious consequences. What if someone were to get a hold of her and question her? No offense, but the girl doesn’t look like she can keep a secret.” You hear one voice plead. Offense taken.

“Gaz, I hear you, but she’s seen our faces already. We knew the risks heading here and we did so anyway. Besides, don’t think we’ll be leaving here so quickly. Soap isn’t going anyway with that gash in ‘im and we both know Ghost had a hole in his leg.”

Soap? Ghost? Gaz? What the hell are these names?

You are about to interrupt when you feel the familiar sensation of someone staring and burning into the back of your head. You turn and see nothing but black. You crane your neck up and see a skull staring down at you.

[chosen-hero-inari]

Whumptober Day 1: Search Party

A/N: Hello! This year I wanted to do something more lowkey for Whumptober so I tried to keep these to 500 words, and even succeeded with some of them! So if you're wondering why my fics are shorter this year that's why.

~

Anamorphosis

Yusuke is hard to miss. 

It’s not just that he literally sticks out a few inches above other people, it’s how he speaks, how he carries himself. It’s attention-grabbing, to say the least.

So of course, when they ask the shopkeepers and other people who hang around the subway, they’ve all seen Yusuke around, but they haven’t noticed he hasn’t been around the last couple of days.

Yusuke’s all but vanished. 

Maybe someone else would panic at that, but not Ren. Most things can be solved by taking stock and going back to the fundamentals. Figure out what you know, and work from there.

And Ren knows a lot. He knows that Yusuke is easily distracted and can wander a lot of places. He knows Yusuke sometimes forgets to pay for his phone. 

He knows that there are monsters and portals to other worlds that can open up in an instant and make someone disappear. 

Possibilities that no one else would consider.

That’s why he and the others all agreed they would get back to Tokyo the first chance they got, because they knew the authorities couldn’t deal with it.

A week after Yusuke last sent a message to the group chat, They’re gathered in Leblanc and taking stock of anyone Yusuke’s been hanging around. The Metaverse proper is gone, of course, but there’s always parallels.

Sojiro and Sae can handle the traditional methods, their search starts with rumors and forums. There’s no thread worth ignoring.

“Hey, check this out,” Futaba says, moving her laptop so they all can see. The reddit page for Yusuke’s college dorm has a scattering few posts, but one mentions a creepy painting in the hallway.

I swear I saw someone touch it and disappear.

“As good a place to start as any,” Ren says.

He and Makoto go to the dorm and talk their way in by giving the security guard a version of the truth. Of course she’s noticed the weird art kid hasn’t checked in in awhile.

When they reach the hallway, they don’t find the painting. The plaque describing it is there, saying it was painted by an unknown artist and gifted from the Subaru City museum. It’s several decades old, but not much else is known about it.

Makoto asks a passerby about it, and they just shrug and say someone probably got rid of it.

Then they head up to Yusuke’s room, Ren picking the lock easily. 

Yusuke’s new dorm is the same kind of chaos as his old one, but thankfully it’s much bigger and comes with an actual bed.

There are papers and notebooks scattered around, and it seems Yusuke had been very focused on drawing the shadows they encountered in their adventures before, and a couple Ren’s never seen before.

A notepad with the words BUY SIM CARD underlined several times is sitting on the table, along with several names to get in contact with and phone numbers.

One is Katsuya Suou, a private investigator, so Makoto gives him a call and puts it on speaker.

“Katsuya Suou’s office, how can I help you?” 

Makoto nearly drops the phone. That’s Yusuke’s voice.

“Yusuke?” Ren yells. “Are you ok, what happened?”

“Ren? Oh boy, I’m very happy to hear your voice.”

“We could say the same,” Makoto says. “What’s going on, where have you been?”

“Wait, how long has it been?”

“A week.”

There’s a muffled groan on the other side of the phone. “I’m so sorry, the person borrowing my body didn’t know what a sim card was.”

At this point Ren’s not even going to question it.

“Do you need help? What does this have to do with the painting?”

“Ok, so that painting was a message,” Yusuke says, “I just can’t find the people it’s meant for.”

“What does that mean?” 

“It’s… difficult to explain concisely, I don’t understand it myself,” Yusuke says. “Something about that painting… you know what never mind. I wanted to have more concrete information before I called you all on a wild goose chase, but I’m getting concerned. How fast can all of you get to Sumaru City?”

“We can be there by tomorrow, why?” Makoto asks.

“Because I think a cult from the 90s is trying to end the world again.”

[pantoneyoongi]

the sun & the stars | 01 | kth

title ; the sun & the stars pairing ; taehyung x you

word count ; 5.4k

masterlist | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue

description ; 

taehyung’s known you almost his whole life - his sister’s best friend, the girl who invades his home and his life on the daily. you’re the one who gave his sister the nickname ‘sky’ to begin with - and also the one who relented when he whined about it at age five and said okay, you can be the stars, then. 

it’s funny, because to him, you’re just the petty, mischievous neighbor from across the street with a penchant for stealing his snacks. but over the years, you’ve somehow landed yourself a reputation that stretches beyond the 1.5 year age gap he has with you - for someone who generally likes to keep things low key, you sure have a way of drawing attention. 

sky’s friendly, teasing best friend is known for being cold, impassive, and immovable. which is weird, because when he’s around you, all he sees are unabashed grins and terrible jokes. until he realizes maybe he doesn’t know you like he thought he did. maybe they’re right - it just so happens that the walls you throw up around him look a little different from the walls you throw up around everyone else. 

tracklist ; willow - taylor swift, give me your forever - zack tabudlo ft. billkin, limbo - keshi

notes ; 

ok so i don’t have a masterlist for this yet but this is going to be part of a universe called the sun & the sky universe, about two besties and their love lives and friendship and originally it was supposed to be a one-shot for each character but i have spiraled wildly out of control and now this character (sun) has a mini-series, oops. 

anyway this is the first installation in the sun & the sky universe and eventually i will get around to making a masterpost. thank u for reading !! 

tags ; college!au, best friend’s little brother!au, childhood friends to lovers, you have a cold/ice princess reputation, angst, fluff, mentions of absent parents and financial instability, you’re referred to as ‘sun’, taehyung’s sister referred to as ‘sky’, mentions of some dude being kinda pushy at the beginning, some business major slander (sorry) (sort of), there will be pov switches later, there will also be seokjin slander (he’ll deserve it unfortunately i’m so sorry), slow burn?? i think??, brief mentions of infidelity at some point later too, honestly this whole fic is probably more about friendships than it is about romance but anyways, yes this is the fic that i wrote 10k for and then randomly decided to rewrite the entire thing bc i have no control over my life thank u very much, anyway here it is i hope u like it 

to be very clear: you don’t like freshmen. 

irritation crawls up your spine, and you spare just enough time to glance both ways before crossing the street to reach your friend, who looks increasingly uncomfortable. she’s already backed up enough that she’s only centimeters from the wall behind her, which, in case the relief on her face at the sight of you didn’t already spell it out, tells you plenty enough that this one’s persistent and unwelcome. 

“hey.” you don’t raise your voice when you reach them. you generally make it a point not to expend more energy than absolutely necessary, but particularly when it comes to men, and especially when they’re harassing your best friend. you hardly look his way, instead speaking to your friend with a tilt of your head towards the campus dining hall. “let’s go.” 

jinyoung calls you blunt and a little rude (affectionate), but you prefer the terms ‘concise’ and ‘clear’. as in, you are concisely and clearly indicating the freshman should leave. you know, something about a-b conversations and how he should c his way out. 

your shoulders raise ever so slightly when, predictably, the freshman opens his mouth to argue. that’s the thing about freshmen. and transfers. and men who don’t know what’s good for them: they don’t know you, and they don’t know your reputation, and that causes more problems than you care to deal with. 

lucky for him, he happens to know someone who’s been out of the womb for longer than the ten seconds this kid appears to have been. in your peripheral, you watch the freshman get yanked back by a junior you think might’ve been in one of your roman history lectures last semester. “what the fuck is wrong with you,” he hisses to his friend, eyes darting nervously between the boy and you. his voice raises to normal speaking levels. “i’m so sorry. he’s so sorry for bothering you,” and then he’s dragging the kid away with hushed, frantic whispers. you watch them cross the street and head down and away, before turning back to your friend. 

“you good, sky?” 

she gives you a half-smile. “i’d be better with food in me.” 

your lips twitch, and you sling an arm over her shoulders, tugging her through the dining hall doors. “good thing that’s what we’re here for.” 

.

.

.

your reputation is more tall tale than fact, but you let it carry you through the four years of high school and now clean through your four years of college, too. for a group of students who are so rarely capable of meeting your eyes, they speak fairly condescendingly about you. it probably has a lot to do with the ‘sun’ nickname, seeing as it just seems laughable to associate the most well-known star in the galaxy with you. 

you’re not warm. you don’t light up a room. none of the good cliches line up with you, and to most people, the nickname is more irony than anything else. but you didn’t get the nickname from them, you got it from sky, shortly after you gave her hers when you were seven. 

(seven year old you was a lot friendlier.)

your eyes slide closed, chin propped against your palm as you wait at the lunch table. sky is grabbing food while you save the table, waiting for her brother and his partner in crime to show up. 

the four of you grew up on the same street - sky and taehyung in the house across from you, and jimin a couple doors down. jimin and taehyung are technically the same age, the way you and sky are too, but taehyung’s birthday is so late in the year that he’s two grades below you instead of just one. they say you and sky have been inseparable since day one, but taehyung and jimin must be conjoined at the hip - you don’t find one without seeing the other. 

you feel someone brush past you, a hand hovering by your head, but before it can nudge you, you say with closed eyes, “watch it, kid.” 

your eyes flutter open, finding jimin pouting in front of you, hand returning to his side. “how’d you know it was me?” 

“who else would dare?” you arch an eyebrow, and he sucks his teeth, dropping into the seat diagonal from you. taehyung takes the seat to your left, nodding his head in greeting towards you. 

your lips quirk to the side. “do i not deserve the honor of your voice today, taetae?” you give him doe eyes, just to watch him scowl at you. 

growing up with taehyung and sky right across the street from you meant watching taehyung turn from an adorable toddler, to a mildly annoying child, into a definitely annoying teenager. this also included a two year stint in which taehyung refused to speak to you (or in general, really), only making vague grunting noises and giving you curt nods in an attempt to come off as stoic and brooding. 

(as a shock to no one: it was ineffective as far as ‘stoic’ and ‘brooding’ go.) 

ever since he decided to grace you with his voice again, you take any chance to remind him of it. you grin wickedly as he lolls his head back with a groan. “i was shy,” he protests, bordering on a whine. 

you scoff. “i’ve known you since you were three, fuck outta here,” you cuff him lightly upside the head, taehyung’s lower lip jutting out at the action. “you were just an angsty teenager.” 

sky makes her appearance at that moment, setting her tray down. “can confirm,” she agrees with zero proper context. “you were just an angsty teenager.” 

taehyung huffs. you poke your tongue against your cheek, amusement lighting your eyes. he tries to glare but taehyung’s always been a little soft on you, even if he won’t admit it. he marks defeat with a switch in subject. “you look tired.” 

you sputter out a laugh. “i’m a college student,” you smack his shoulder lightly. “i always look tired.” you redirect your attention back to jimin and sky, joining the conversation they’d started, but taehyung stays quiet, studying you. eventually he gets up to grab food, jimin following after him, but you opt to just lay your head against your forearm, letting sky pat your head sympathetically. 

you raise your head only when the boys return, eyes widening slightly in surprise when taehyung comes back with two trays, sliding one in front of you wordlessly. “you raised him well,” jimin sighs dramatically to sky. “treats his elders with respect.” 

“that makes one of you,” you quip, just as sky goes, “are you calling me an elder?” 

the two of you burst into laughter at the look on jimin’s face, halfway between being offended by you and defensive against sky, and while you’re busy teasing jimin, you don’t notice taehyung watching you, wondering how anyone can see you as cold and standoffish, not when he sees you like this, voice loud and eyes crinkled in the corners, always the brightest whenever you make the people you love and care about laugh. they say you’re cruel and unforgiving, but he’s known you for years and he doesn’t really feel like you’ve changed much - still wildly dramatic and bitingly sarcastic - and also apparently still endlessly prone to stealing food from him and sky, he thinks dryly, as he throws you a dirty look for snagging a french fry off his plate despite having your own. 

you smile pretty at him. “sharing is caring, taetae.” 

he can’t retort when you blink your eyes at him like that because there’s just no winning when it comes to you. all he can do is let out a deep sigh and fight the smile making its way onto his face when your laughter chimes in his ear. 

.

.

.

“what if,” you start, just for jinyoung to cut you off. 

“no.” 

you throw the towel down onto the table, affronted. “you didn’t let me finish.” 

he stares flatly at you, then makes a jerky, ‘go-ahead’ gesture with his hand. 

“what if,” you start again, pointing your finger at him. “i drop out of school-” 

“what if,” jinyoung smiles like he’s got knives for teeth. “i get you fired?” 

you scrunch your nose. “then i’d be young, dumb, and broke.” 

“just like all the cool kids,” jinyoung sighs, clearly not giving a fuck. “hurry up, we got company.” 

the bell above the restaurant door rings as probably an entire fraternity funnels in, forty-five minutes before your shift ends. “perfect,” you mutter, picking up your towel again, scrubbing the table clean while jinyoung puts on a (notably knifeless) smile for your customers. the closing shift can never end quietly, always some group coming in last minute to interrupt your peaceful night. you always know jinyoung happens to like you because he sidles up to the group with his full charm and a notepad, ready to take orders, letting you slink off to the back to finish cleaning up so the two of you can get out of here as quickly as possible as soon as the sign flips to ‘closed.’ 

jinyoung returns to the back to rattle off orders five minutes later, then leans with his back to the counter as you rinse dishes to put into the industrial dishwasher. “you should stop taking extra shifts. your eyebags have eyebags,” he informs you, as gently as he can. you glance at him, wondering if it’s worth it to flick him with water. but you know he’s just trying to be nice, so you opt against it. 

you suck in a breath, setting another dish down onto the rack. “i can’t,” you shrug. “i am, in fact, young, dumb, and broke.” 

he presses his lips together in a non-smile. like you, jinyoung is here on scholarship and part of the pity-party program your school has for kids who meet the criteria of “too poor to afford higher education.” you met him in said program over the summer, when you were all forced to come in for summer classes, just in case you came from a district without sufficient resources to teach you calculus. 

he runs a tired hand through his hair, offering you a small smile before heading out with an array of dishes balanced impressively on his arm. the frat has approximately twenty minutes to shovel it all down before the restaurant officially calls it lights out. you have no doubts they’ll make it with time to spare. 

you flip the settings for the dishwasher and let it run, tugging off your gloves and wandering towards the front. absently, you stare out the glass that makes up the storefront, eyes nearly glazing over until you spot them - your head lifting slowly as you lean forward a little to squint. 

she’s a little too far out, but the person heading down the street looks an awful lot like sky, flanked by someone who looks half a foot taller than her, which is saying something, considering sky is half a foot taller than you. your head tilts, curious, but by the time you’ve blinked enough times to get your vision back in focus, they’re out of sight. 

shaking it off, you check the clock to see that you’re ten minutes to closing, confirmed by the way you hear the frat boys noisily filing back out just the way they came in. jinyoung’s eyes meet yours and you give a tired nod, the two of you working in tandem to clear the remaining dishes to finish cleaning up and close up shop. 

jinyoung bids you goodbye outside the restaurant with a pat on the shoulder, parting ways. it’s late, little ways past ten at night, and you slump your shoulders as you trudge down the street back to your apartment. 

you take a half step back when taehyung’s face suddenly appears in front of yours, familiar dark eyes peering at you. he’s got his hands in his pockets and he’s bent over slightly to meet your height, and you frown at him. “what are you doing here?” 

“jimin dragged me out,” he explains, straightening back up. “but now they’re getting drunk, so.” 

of the four of you, jimin’s always been the only one with anything close to a social life. he parties, he drinks, he gets hungover, and then he gets straight a’s. go figure. 

you hum, the two of you falling into step together. the silence is comfortable, padded with the general ruckus of the downtown, cars speeding past and drunk students being rowdy. you make your way back to the main streets on campus, taehyung slowing his steps to match your snail pace. 

“sun,” he breaks the quiet between you. you look at him. 

he opens his mouth to speak, but there’s only empty air, the words dying on his tongue when he sees how dull your eyes look after a long shift. your eyes have always sparkled, glinting with trouble and quick wit, so it sort of stings to see the light fade out with how weary you are. 

“never mind,” he smiles, tilting his chin towards your building’s front door. “we’re here.” 

you look confused but don’t press the matter, patting him on the arm with a warm smile. “get back safe. thanks for walking me home, tae.” you tip-toe to ruffle his hair, like you always have, despite the near foot of height he now towers over you with, then disappear into your building without a second glance back. 

taehyung sighs, hand absently pressed to the spot where you’d touched his arm. he knows your smile better than anyone else’s, that dazzling grin of yours that you reserve only for your closest friends. even when taehyung went through his brooding phase, you always offered it out to him with a friendly wave. 

the campus might not understand the nickname ‘sun,’ but taehyung knows it suits you perfectly. 

.

.

.

“am i still allowed to live in your basement if i fail out of college?” 

you punctuate the end of your question by dropping the bag of take-out you brought with you onto the table, though the end of your sentence sort of peeters off a little when you realize there’s someone else departing the table, a low voice murmuring a goodbye to your friend. you don’t catch his face before his tall frame walks away, but your brows furrow, puzzled. you don’t recognize him. 

“i think you’d live in my basement regardless of what i say,” sky responds, seemingly unaware of your perplexion. “but unfortunately you’re not allowed to fail out of college.” 

your eyes are still on the man who’d just left, even as you pull out the take-out and hand it over to sky. you’re tempted to ask, but when you glance back at her, she has an unnervingly neutral expression on her face, and you falter, deciding to drop it. 

sky likes to keep her circle small. most of the time it’s just you, jimin, and taehyung, though both of you do still keep in touch with yoongi and hoseok from high school, and there is that one girl from her major, soojung. but for the most part, sky prefers keeping to herself, so much so that on occasion she’ll just drop off the grid without any warning. you suppose you’re like her in that way, though her version of dropping off the grid is usually more accidental (read: a new video game came out and she forgot she has to remind people she’s alive) whereas yours tends to be very intentional (read: you’re overwhelmed and so much as seeing or interacting with another person could equate to a new, special kind of torture, built explicitly for you). 

you slide on a smile for her, settling down into your seat. “eat,” you gesture. “need at least one of us to make it past graduation if i’m gonna live in your basement.” 

as sky tucks in, absently scrolling through her phone, your mind wanders. it’s not that you need to know every last detail of sky’s life, but she’s your best friend, and it just tends to happen, anyway. sky’s life is so heavily interwoven with yours, since you were five and moved into the house across the street from hers, and she let you into her home like you’d always belonged there. 

then again, that was a boy you’d seen walking away. your eyes shift back to sky, who isn’t paying you much mind, and you look away again. the truth is, the tightly bound friendship you hold with sky feels as fragile as it does indestructible, and you have no one to blame but yourself. 

.

.

.

food is your love language. giving it, receiving it, whatever the case is - it’s love. it might also be your sole motivator for doing just about anything, but that’s besides the point. 

you use food as a means of taking care of the people around you. it’s not exactly a flashy show of affection, but you don’t have a particularly heartwarming vocabulary, or the disposition to shower people in your affection, so this is what you do. most people seem to take the hint. you figure that’s why taehyung puts up with you on at minimum a weekly basis, grabbing a meal together whenever he’s free. 

today, he’s seated at your kitchen counter, glancing around your apartment like he hasn’t been here a million times before. you set your ever-gourmet pot of instant noodles down on top of a pot holder. “ta-da,” you beam at him, waving your hands dramatically. “my specialty.” 

“you treat me so well,” he says dryly, but his eyes are affectionate and he’s still picking up his chopsticks almost immediately, tongue poking out at the corner of his lips in anticipation. you press your lips together to hide a smile, watching him gather noodles, messily sucking them into his mouth, flicking soup everywhere. 

you click your tongue a little but don’t nag, though the look you give him makes him settle down a little, chewing slower and acting at least somewhat more like a civilized human being. he looks properly chastised, and the corner of your lips lift in a small smirk of amusement. 

the two of you eat quietly, taehyung because he’s always been quiet and you because you’re lost in thought, enough so that you forget to entertain taehyung the way you usually do (read: complain about almost every class you’re in and lament your age, as if you’re anything more than a year and a half older than taehyung, max). your eyes are distant, chopsticks absently picking up noodles to eat, on autopilot. 

you glance back to taehyung, who doesn’t seem to mind your quiet. he’s used to your noise, but you suppose at some point he also grew used to your quiet, too. maybe that’s just what decade-long friendships are like. you learn the usuals, the unusuals, and all of the in between. 

teeth gnawing at your lower lip, you wonder if he knows about the guy who’s been hovering around sky. this guy who sky doesn’t want to introduce to you, not yet, which means he’s important enough to her that she cares whether you meet him or not. whether because your opinion matters or because of something else, you haven’t figured out yet. 

taehyung’s eyes rise to meet yours, chopsticks halfway to his mouth when he sees the way you gaze at him thoughtfully, head tilted to the side. your brows are drawing in, and he wants to press his fingers to the crease in the middle, undo the tension, but instead he just asks, “something up?” 

you hesitate. for just a fraction of a second, but he catches it. because that’s what decade-long friendships are like. but you’re too quick for him to push it, too easily pull on a smile and reach over to tug on his ear like he’s still a child, nagging at him. “i’m fine,” you admonish. “don’t you worry about me, kid.” 

he grumbles something incoherent and swats at your hand, grumbles bordering on whines when you don’t let up, until he catches you grinning at him, mischievous as ever. you retract your hand, satisfied by the grumpy look on his face, though your smile falters a little when you see that it’s not enough to wipe the worry in his eyes. 

you focus on your food instead, just so you can avoid that look. but you can still feel him staring at you, like he’s waiting for you to give in to him, so you lift your head back up with a beam and start rattling off, extensively, until he loses that look in his eyes. until he’s back to just regular taehyung, sky’s little brother taehyung, neighbor from across the street taehyung, and not grown-up taehyung, walks you home taehyung, eats with you weekly because he doesn’t want you to be lonely taehyung. 

you’re not ready to admit it. taehyung’s only gotten more handsome and charming in his own right over the years. it makes it so that you can’t stand the way that he looks at you sometimes, like he can see right through you. 

he’s not supposed to. he’s taehyung. he’s part of your safe, little bubble; the one you built, where the sun can only shine. 

.

.

.

waking up is such a miserable experience, you muse. 

it’s ass o’clock in the morning. honestly, any time you need to wake up before noon is ass o’clock, but you have to study for your exams and you have a help desk shift later too, so unfortunately, 7am it is. 

you force yourself to roll out of bed, look vaguely human-shaped (aka: wear respectable enough clothes), and lug yourself to the library. you could study in your room but you’re a weak bitch and the bed being two feet away is too strong a temptation. therefore: library. 

you find a corner to hide away in, scribbling away in your notebook in hopes of retaining an ounce of the information you’ve written down. the hours pass like that, and by some miracle, you don’t develop a stress-induced headache by the time you need to leave for your shift. 

you toss your belongings into your backpack, tugging it onto your back, a quite physical reminder of the weight on your shoulders. 

you don’t necessarily think that life is unkind to you. you just think everyone gets dealt their deck of cards, and yours happens to be slightly shittier. but hey, if you’re broke enough, you get free housing at the nicest set of apartments on campus, so you win some, you lose some, right? 

the losing part right now is the multi-set of jobs running you into the ground. between the restaurant, your help desk job, and the work-study program, it’s a miracle you haven’t failed any of your courses. 

you heave a sigh, letting yourself feel bad about it for a minute. you deserve at least that, in the quiet of the library this early in the morning, while most of campus is happily sleeping in on a saturday. 

‘most’ is the key word here. you should’ve known your best friend has the integrity of a monk, seeing as she’s at the library at nearly 10am on a weekend. 

you slink your way over to her, sneaking up behind her and slinging an arm over her shoulder, mouth already open to whisper-shout her name - that is, up until you spot the man standing before her. 

the smile slides off your face immediately. for someone at his towering size, he’d been pretty well hidden behind the shelves. he looks suspiciously close in height to the person you’d seen that night at the restaurant, and the other day when you’d brought sky lunch. 

he smiles politely at you, dimples denting in his cheeks. your frown deepens. you’re certain now, that you don’t recognize him in your catalog of sky’s acquaintances, and she seems comfortable around him, much more than she is around any of her classmates. 

“hi, sun,” sky greets, gentle smile rising to her lips, though you’re too busy sizing up this guy she’s talking to. he’s sort of huge. he has kind eyes, though, hair swept off to the side, white tee tucked loosely into light colored jeans. but you still stand wary, too familiar with boys who have sweet dispositions and not enough good intentions. 

see, the first thing anyone notices about sky is that she’s nice. 

well, okay. the first thing most people notice about sky is that she’s pretty. elegant, like she was a princess in some past life, between her perpetual good posture (what college student do you know that isn’t hunched over like a gremlin at least 73% of the time?) and perfectly set hair, not a strand out of place. she’s pretty, in a way that carries into her personality, patient and open. she’s always listened to whatever blown-out-of-proportion story you have for her, letting you drag her into any and all of your bad ideas, no matter the consequences. 

the point is that sky holds the sort of kindness that knows no boundaries. she’s content to go with the flow, and despite all the times she’s been let down by passing acquaintances who you’ve ensured can no longer call her a friend, she’s still willing to help. she gives out second, third, fourth chances, doesn’t let the hurt get in the way of her ability to care. 

her walls don’t go up as high as yours do. so you make every effort to make sure that the people who take advantage of that never get a chance to hurt her. 

“who’s this?” 

sky blinks, looking between you and him. christ, he is massive. his biceps are probably the size of your head. 

you mostly keep your eyes on him, but turn to glance at sky when she takes a minute longer than usual to answer. she looks a bit startled, like she’s just now realizing you’re actually here; moreover, that you don’t know who her new friend is. 

“oh,” she says, lips turning downwards a little, conflicted. something inside you flinches. but then her expression clears and she smiles. “this is namjoon. we have class together.” 

namjoon lifts a hand to wave even while you’re narrowing your eyes at him. but still, your hands return to your pockets and you take a step back, forcing your stiff shoulders to lower. 

you’re intruding, you realize. sky is having a moment with this tall, handsome person who could probably twist you into a pretzel if he wanted to, and you’re intruding. 

a weight sits on your chest at the realization, but you force a smile to your face for sky. you and your reputation and your trust issues need to step out of this. 

“i.. i gotta get to work,” you say, anxious hands tugging at your backpack straps just for something to hold onto. “i just popped by ‘cause i saw you.” you glance towards namjoon, trying your best to maintain the smile you generally reserve only for close friends, but it turns too quickly into a grimace so you settle for a curt nod of acknowledgement, before lifting a hand to sky. “see you ‘round.”

you pretend not to notice how sky’s expression falters, heading out without turning around once. the discomfort rolls over in you, pulling at your heart, keeping your shoulders tense. 

the way sky looks at namjoon is different. you can tell. two minutes in the same space, and you know sky isn’t just being polite like she was raised to be. she’s content to be around him, their eyes darting to meet each other in quick glances, like it’s difficult to let their gazes stray for too long. 

namjoon doesn’t give you any immediate warning signs, and sky’s gotten a lot better at picking her friends. you don’t have to protect her, she’s perfectly capable of it herself. but you still feel wary, still worry that dimpled, unassuming namjoon will fuck her over like any number of people have in the past. 

including you, your brain reminds you. you’re the worst one. 

your heart tightens in your chest and you shoulder your way out the doors of the library, like barreling into something will shake off the memory any easier. 

high school is hard for anyone. emotions are at all time highs; everything feels like it’s high stakes. grades, friendships, romances. everything is always, constantly, on the line. 

sky always says it’s not your fault. kim seokjin was not your fault. you were teenagers - kids, really - but no matter how she spins it, you know you’re the one who messed up. even if sky doesn’t blame you, you still do. 

how are you supposed to trust your instincts, when the last time you let your guard down for a boy with a disarming smile, he hurt not only you, but your best friend? 

sky’s your most important person. her family was there when no one else was, and they didn’t ask questions, either. you don’t think you’ll forgive yourself for letting her down once, and you know you can’t afford to let it happen again. no matter how many times sky says you’ve never had anything to apologize for. 

you’re so lost in your own head that you almost bump into someone, so wound up that you nearly fire off immediately before realizing it’s taehyung standing in front of you, looking equal parts amused and concerned. “i think i know what they mean now when they say, ‘blaze a path,’” he muses, and you scoff at him, shoving him to the side without any real force. 

“walking with purpose is not what that metaphor means, tae,” you keep marching forward, not bothering to check if he’s matching pace. he’s got long legs, he’ll be fine. “‘blazing a path’ means-” 

“sun,” taehyung interrupts, voice low enough that you actually stop lecturing him. his voice softens a little. “you alright? you look like-” 

you don’t let him finish, nor give him the courtesy of even a glance his way. “i’m dandy, taetae. just going to my nine to five.” 

“you don’t have a nine to five. you’re a student.” 

“good job, einstein. wanna tell me how the sky is blue, too?” 

“sun.” 

you know you’re being curt. you’re lashing out at the wrong person and you stop in your steps to breathe in deeply, exhaling slowly. 

“i’m just tired,” you finally spare him a look. you sigh. “i’m sorry. but i really do have to go to work, and if i don’t haul ass, i’m gonna be late.” 

he looks at you like he doesn’t believe you, but you both know he’s going to drop it. “you should sleep more,” he settles on. you know he’s about to lecture you with a series of hard facts. “people need eight hours-” 

you smirk at him, “you know damn well there’s not a single college student out there getting eight hours of sleep.” 

he shrugs. “maybe the business majors?” 

you snort. “no. they’re out partying.” 

he snaps his fingers. “right. forgot about those.” 

“you can forget about parties when your best friend is jimin?” you ask in mock amazement. he scoffs out a laugh in return. 

“shut up, sun. i’m serious, you need more sleep. you look like death.” 

“oooh,” you tease. “you really know how to make a girl feel pretty.” 

taehyung turns his gaze skyward, and you know he’s asking some higher being for the patience to put up with you. you snicker, patting him on the arm. “you’ll get it when you’re older,” you blink forlorn eyes at him, smile overly sympathetic. he scowls back. you make a vague attempt at hiding your amusement, but otherwise continue towards the office, taehyung keeping you company. he doesn’t say anything else, just walks with you. you don’t ask where he was supposed to be headed before you bumped into him, and he doesn’t tell you, either. 

it’s when you’re almost at the door that you break your silence, that nagging feeling pulling and pulling at you until you crack. “hey,” you spin towards him, stopping in your tracks right in front of the building. “do you know a namjoon?” 

he tilts his head, surprised. “namjoon? yeah, he’s like uhh,” taehyung pauses to think. “i think he was sky’s project partner or something, and now they’re pretty good friends. they have class together. why?” 

you make a noncommittal noise. “nothing. just saw them together earlier. sky’s never brought him up before.” 

you try not to think too hard at the way taehyung’s eyebrows shoot up. it’s a sign that you’re not overthinking this, that it is weird that sky never mentioned him, because sky tells you everything. 

but she didn’t tell you about namjoon. 

masterlist | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue

[yourchemicallyimbalancedromance]

“I Keep You Safe From Me”

(Title inspired by lyrics from the song “Liar” by Paramore || “Liar” is basically Virgil and Logan’s theme song for right now haha)

Chapter one: New Beginnings

(This is pretty short, sorry! But longer chapters are coming I promise!!)

Ship: slow burn romantic Analogical

CW/TW: weed, a bit of self deprecating language (barely! blink and you’ll miss it, but it’s there so it’s worth tagging!)

POV: Virgil

(No summary cause I don’t wanna give anything away)

———————————————————————

Virgil sat on the hood of his car, hot Georgia summer sun sinking into his clothes, wrinkled schedule in hand, watching as all the other freshman and their parents rushed to unload boxes upon boxes from everything from old beat-up Range Rovers to new Jeep Wranglers.

It seemed as if it didn’t matter whether it was a double or a single room they were heading to, the boxes just kept coming from the voids of the cars; labels differing between “Winter Clothes” and “Tupperware” passed by him consistently with no sign of stopping. He didn’t move, just watched and listened to the laughter between families.

He hadn’t had anyone to bring him here or help him pack, so he shoved things into boxes and threw them carelessly into the trunk of his Camry.

He tried to ignore the rising feeling of jealousy and contempt in his gut as the joyful tone around him persisted on. He focused on the burning of the hot metal against his legs and stared at his schedule with the intensity of an animal stalking its prey. He knew he had to go in soon, to walk to his dorm and meet his roommates, but he wanted to drag out the inevitable for as long as he could.

He had signed up for early morning classes, hoping to be awake before the others so they wouldn’t bother him.

He watched as the parking lot cleared and a final pair of bodies disappeared behind the tinted double doors. sighing, he checked the time on his phone.

11:36 AM

He quickly shut his phone off, shoving it upside down into his shorts pocket and shoving himself off of the car, grabbing his backpack off of the ground and making his way towards the entrance of the school, leaving all of the boxes in his car out of his mind and shoving open the door upon arrival, he would deal with unpacking later.

He kept his head down, staring at the paper in his hand, not daring to make eye contact with anyone. He was hoping to look as if he was trying to figure out his dorm number even though he had already memorized it prior to moving day.

He stood there for a moment or two, not wanting to move, wanting to go back to his car and camp out there from midday to night. He wanted an education, sure, that’s what he was here for, but he didn’t sign up to be yanked into a building full of strangers even though he already knew how this worked.

When his brother Cosmos got accepted to Harvard he never heard the end of it.

Cosmos was more excited about the partying aspect of life on campus, but on the other hand Virgil never heard the end of it from their parents. it was always about how smart Cosmos was and how intelligent he was for getting into such a prestigious school with a 4.0 and them questioning why he wasn’t trying as hard because he could be just as great as his brother.

What they didn’t know was that he was as great as his aforementioned older sibling, if not better, they just didn’t want to acknowledge that part.

A sudden tap to the shoulder jolted Virgil out of his thoughts, snapping his head up and turning around to see who made the movement.

He was met face to face with a man a few inches taller than him, wearing a solid grey vest and light black button down pants paired with white sneakers. Thin circular glasses outlined his facial features perfectly. Strong jawline, a bit of stubble, gorgeous hazel eyes, a soft smile.

“You’ve been standing here for a few minutes now, do you need help?” The man in front of him spoke, voice clear and concise.

Virgil became all too aware of his disheveled state. Tired eyes, jittery limbs, rocking a MCR t-shirt two sizes too big for him and black shorts with tennis shoes. He smiled at him sheepishly before answering.

He genuinely seemed like he wanted to help and Virgil was honestly willing to take all the help he could get. “Uh..yeah, sorry. I just need to get to room 307 on floor 2” he responded

“Oh? My room is right across from yours, I can show you the way.” the man replied, walking towards a flight of stairs to the left of them.

Virgil followed, the sound of his bag bouncing behind him echoing off of the walls before making it to the second floor and being led to one of the doors.

The hallway wasn’t empty in the slightest. There were no people crowding the space but the chatter filling the air was enough to make it seem as if there were. Doors were open in every direction, peak in and you’d find a mother and father reminiscing over a time when their kid was just learning how to walk and now they were awing over their successes while unpacking t-shirts. It made Virgil feel sick. He shook his head, trying to shake away the hope he once had that maybe, just maybe, his parents stand-offish parental style would change just this once. ‘Stupid.’ He thought to himself.

“This is it, 307” the man next to him said, gesturing towards the door. He turned around and gestured towards the door across from Virgil’s. “And this is 308, where I live. It’s a single but yknow, I like the quiet.” he said, shrugging and shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Thank you, um..” Virgil started, remembering he didn’t know the handsome strangers name.

“Oh, Logan” he finished, taking a hand out of his pocket and sticking it out for the other to shake.

Virgil took it and smiled, “Thank you, Logan. I guess I’ll..see you around?” he said.

Logan’s eyes glimmered behind his glasses. “I guess you will” He said, a tint of smugness in his voice before turning around and walking inside his dorm.

Virgil turned back to face his own dorm, hesitantly raising a fist and knocking.

The door swung open in mere seconds as Virgil was confronted by a man wearing baggy jeans, a green Nike sweatshirt, and nothing but socks on. His eyes were green, slightly red and a little droopy, a tired aura surrounded him. He gave a weak grin to Virgil and moved so he could walk in.

He did, and was almost immediately hit by the smell of weed. The wide space of the living area was littered with open boxes, clothes scattered everywhere and indie-rock blasting from a small speaker placed on the windowsill which for the time being only had blinds as a way of maintaining privacy.

Something about the vibe of the room made him relax. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

[andreas-river]

Can I request any jealous/ possessive ghost head cannons? (With nsfw). Or how he would act when he has a crush on you? How he acts around you and others notice how he acts around you. How he confesses. Please and thank you!

Jealous!Possessive!Simon "Ghost" Riley Headcanons with GN!Reader [SFW & NSFW]

A/N: Hello, sorry for being late, I really hope you will like it. I never wrote NSFW so I really hope it's not cringe (*/▽＼*)

Warnings: mention of jealousy and possessiveness, 18+ contents MDNI after the "Keep Reading" button.

Disclaimer: I do not own any MW characters. English is not my first language.

Read at your discrection!

[SFW]

◦he never expected to fall so hard for someone and yet here it is;

◦you notice him looming around you like a shadow, his eyes always on you: if you are with someone else, you will always feel a shiver running down your spine;

◦he will never admit to being jealous: the good thing is that he’s not at a toxic level. Simon knows what the line is, and he doesn’t cross it;

◦it’s not that he doesn’t have experience, but with you is something different;

◦he will confess during a normal day, when you both are alone: you already noticed that he gets closer to you, locking his eyes on you, trying to get your attention;

◦he will be straight to the point: it’s concise, letting his action speak for him.

¤

[NSFW]

◦built like a mountain: Simon loves feeling his body pressing on yours;

◦he will grabs, squeeze pulls and holds you in the way he wants, because he will have you how he wants;

◦forced eye contact. He just loves seeing your teary eyes because of him;

◦not a vocal person, but he will talk you through a lot;

◦high level of stamina, he will make you stay awake all the night and reducing you to a sweaty and shaking body possessed only by the pleasure;

◦it’s a classic, but he loves the missionary: your body displayed in front of his eyes, and he can put his hands everywhere;

◦or he will directly take you against a wall;

◦he’s big- above average, you can say: but it’s the width that makes you scream;

◦his possessiveness makes him very sloppy at the end: the warmth feeling of your body covered in sweat, your puffy lips and your heavy breath combined with his own. It’s just what he needs;

◦don’t expect him to let you go anywhere: he will hold you against him with both arms and legs for a long time, making you pass out from the tiredness immediately.

[dirty-bear-rick-sanchez]

What do you think is going to happen in the season seven finale?

Firstly, thank you for sending this and sorry it took so long to answer! I’m struggling to find the time to interact in this fandom the way I used to unfortunately. Answer under the cut because I am incapable of being either brief or concise 😅

I think it’s hard for me to distinguish between what I want to happen and what I think will happen so this answer might end up being a bit of both 😅

I think that the ending scene is going to be very hard hitting, since we’ve seen the trend develop over the seasons from the initial ‘haha funny’ drunken Rick rant while Morty suffers, to both Rick and Morty being equally excited, to Rick starting to realise he’s shitty and to heal, and finally back full circle to having Rick drunkenly rant at an unenthusiastic Morty but this time played straight and with Morty realising the horror of Rick’s abuse but still not being able to break free.

I’ve seen people mention the idea of having an equivalent ending scene with Prime and Morty instead of C-137 and Morty which I think would be very interesting, especially if we do get more exploration of Morty’s character and his perspective on his relationship with Rick in the broader sense of Ricks in general, rather than just with C-137. I think the show does a very good job of using sci fi concepts such as clones or different dimensions to explore characters and their relationships and I think it would be very cool to have this with Morty and Prime. However, I don’t know if the Prime stuff will develop that quickly, especially if he’s intended to be the big bad of the latter half of the whole series. Equally, Prime could turn out to be only a small piece of the bigger puzzle and maybe he’ll become relatively insignificant compared to other plot elements. Only time will tell I guess.

I think the most common complaint about S6 (from this corner of the fanbase at least) was the lack of Morty, so I hope this is something that gets addressed in S7 and that his character gets a turn in the limelight. At the same time, I appreciate that the show is trying their best to build off of pre-existing canon but also to complete a big tonal shift so I have faith that Morty will get his time to shine, especially since his dynamic with Rick was explored more in the final two episodes (and at the end of Analyse Piss). I definitely want to see the complexities of Morty’s feelings towards Rick and his family as a whole and I’m excited in particular for the Morty and Summer episode that seems to be about the mindblowers - we haven’t really had an exploration of the way Morty feels about Summer getting all these privileges. After all, he’s always tried to protect Summer from Rick and be a good brother despite being the youngest but now Summer is working with Rick and becoming like him. She also has that sort of power over him when it comes to the mindblowers, which is played for laughs in the episode itself but I’m interested to see them explore the darker side of this - after all, Summer is aiding Rick with editing Morty’s memory, and she clearly has a fair bit of power and control over this, given that Rick trusts her to restore both of their memories and wander down there at her leisure. Morty’s Mindblowers definitely marks a whole new era of Rick’s manipulation of Morty, where we start to truly see just how much Rick is deliberately and intentionally controlling Morty’s perceptions and memories.  I’ve spoken before with @hazelnut-u-out about how mindblowing is very much a metaphor for gaslighting - Rick is influencing what Morty remembers and how he remembers it, not only removing memories he doesn’t want but even editing them so Morty has no hope of ever getting the true memory back even if Rick does allow him to keep any of the memories permanently. It’s not hard to draw the parallel between this and the way that trauma can permanently shape the way you view things, even if you are able to remember them or process them. However, Summer is clearly aware of this and seemingly makes no effort to stop it or tell Morty. Obviously she is also being manipulated by Rick (‘I don’t get paid enough for this shit’), but she’s still involved and I can imagine that affecting their relationship a lot. I would like to hope that this episode has Summer choosing to tell Morty and trying to heal, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he finds the room accidentally and is discovered by her instead of Rick, or maybe they’re forced to take shelter from something and Summer takes them into the mindblowers room since it’s the only safe place, leading Morty to question how she knows the room exists and has a key to it.

On a lighter note, we had better see Birdperson again (and hopefully his daughter). I would definitely love Rick having to help look after her and she absolutely hates him.

I’m very excited for S7 and I wonder how much my thoughts on this will change when the trailer drops Monday but these are my thoughts for now!

[astrum99]

@patronsaintofdemons from original post

*runs at u* *snatches u by the arm* *shaking u shaking u* I GOT U. YOU RE NOW A VICTIM OF MY THOGHTS . DO NOT RESIST. 

No joke I woke up yesterday morning at 4am, saw ur tags, and couldn’t get back so sleep for a whole hr bc I got so excited to talk abt whatever funky waves my brain is generating ( I am at peak obsession right now, I am generating enough energy to power a small city))

Sorry if I’m being awfully deranged. I'm not used to being Comprehended and Perceived as an existing entity. Please excuse the part of me that is vibrating so hard I am about to emit light beams from my eyes like some sort of cartoon character. Anyways.

Ultrakill, so far, doesn’t actually have a super complex lore. The story is succinctly simple and tragic. The characters as well. I won't focus on that because my obsession lies in Gabriel. From your tags, it looks like you haven’t gotten deep into the game (yet), so I don’t want to spoil the fun if you ever decide to watch a playthrough of the game, or play the game yourself.

And I can avoid spoilers because, for this post, what I latched onto is not his character arc, but his inherent setting of “an angel”.

“Why are you thinking of an angel”

Well. For starters. I wasn’t thinking about angels at first. I was thinking about his thighs and what he got down there. 

Stay with me. The horniness is fading. The poetry is starting. (shaking you)

Click see below.

No? As if you had a choice.

Jokes on you, I lied. This is less of a poetry and way more of an incomprehensible ramble on why Gabriel is irresistible to me. I hope you enjoy it anyway. <3

Humans are largely made of storytelling and wonder. A desire to strip back layers and layers until a deep, concise answer is found. Then we move on. The study of magic: biochemistry, aerodynamics, fusion physics. We boil the universe down to the barest essentials, then examine some more. We looked inside ourselves: blood, plasma, enzymes. Until we reach the concept of consciousness and suddenly, we are incapable of going further. Attention turned to the sky: planes and rockets; astronomy and “what happened before the Big Bang?” in a child's voice. And we saw that the stars were moving further away from us, faster too, and we thought "we'd have to keep going."

It is at these ends that things become interesting. Never-ending debates of questions that will never be solved because of our inability to go beyond the limits. Reaching the skybox of the universe and unable to do anything more than to speculate what lies further still.

It is no wonder that the thought of an angel captivates man. If it exists, then its nature of being far outside of our observational capability becomes the ultimate lure for artists and scientists alike.

For example, what form would it take? A question of pure speculation, no different than a child's image of aliens. Brainstorming shapes and curvatures and weight in the three-dimensional space, fruitless and fantastical.

An abstract form, perhaps. So abstract that it becomes a type of cosmic horror or a Lovecraftian horror. The burning of eyes, the melting of mind. To lay eyes on it is to condemn yourself to death. Radioactive elephant's foot. We'd try to see it regardless.

A holy being, perhaps. Formed like a man but spills pure light when cut. Would it even cut? What does it mean if the imperfect blade made from the hands of a lowly man had sliced through its skin? Skin? Does it have skin? Like a salamander? Like a leopard? Can a creature’s skin contain the light of god? …Would it leak like a broken puppet? Does it sometimes hate itself like how some of us hate the silhouette of our shadows?

A man, perhaps. Uncertain if it became an angel because the mold of humankind was filled to the brim with divinity, or if it is divine because the pile of carbon assumed the role of an angel. Does it know? Does it wonder? Does it see man in itself, and itself in man? Does it feel lonely to be separated from its lightless siblings that wander the earth freely and sinfully?

And if it is man, as physical as it can be, how close am I to it? …What makes you sacred? Can I see? Can I touch? Can I study your form as millions of humans studied every inch of their world, concrete and abstract? Do you see me as ants? Or family? Would you grieve for me as I have for the songbird?

If I cut you open, will you hold yourself down for me?

Will you forgive me for desecrating you like so?

I think I would be ok with dying by your hand if it is you: let me trade my sight to see you, let me trade my life to touch you. To know you is to cross the limits of the beasts. Sacrilegious.

… And I don’t think you’d allow me to. It’s not in your character. Another angel perhaps, from another story. But I’m thinking of you. And so I can only think, like ancestors before me, and descendants after me. Of the study of magic, of self, of sky.

Of angels.

Truthfully, I’m not a believer in a higher being, never have been, probably never will; but standing on the boundary between life and death and yearning to know the feeling of an angel’s skin under my fingertips are the closest thing to a prayer I have ever experienced. Passion burns; I tend to the fire.

And it’s so regretful that I will never know (because you are an angel) and I will never know (because you are born of fiction) and I am never supposed to know (because to completely understand something or someone is to remove the wonder and hope and passion - like how life without death is timeless and still).

So, this is a love letter of sorts. Because I can’t be the only one craving to know every crease and crevice of this holy being made wearing the same shell as a creature who roams the earth blindly, bumbling, and mad.

------

By the way, please excuse grammar issues. Both my writing in the original post and this one are messy and not thoroughly edited. I just type my brain words out in one setting (partially because uni is in full swing). Sorry if this is on the too-long side of things. I was 700 words into my take on human storytelling before I went: “wait, I’m going way off topic” haha Hope this version is more palatable!

Also just wanna let you know: I just started posting my writing, so your tags were one of the first few that came in and got me really excited! I’m always so happy to read the tags of people who enjoyed my stuff. Thank you!

[walkman-cat]

hands up tell me abt Your star trek au right now!! on the double bro. what are the tensions it all looks too kind & magical i don’t trust it yet

(if it is literally kind & wonderful i am grateful i am thankful i am honored i’d just like to hear more)

-@jack-kellys

i'm ngl my star trek au au is mostly running on vibes wbwbwb so it is pretty kind and happy and warm (i just really like how much everyone in the enterprise's crew has such a respect and care for each other yknow. found family and all that innit).

that being said, here are some funky things about the characters ive been thinking about lately (under a cut because i'm incapable of being concise):

the stars were essentially jack's santa fe. he grew up surrounded by stories of starship captains and space and it became his lifelong dream and ambition to captain a starship, something which he dropped everything to attain. now he is captain of a starship– one of the youngest in starfleet's history– and it's wonderful and fantastic and he's never felt more alive! but there's always something gnawing at the back of his mind (he's based his entire life up until this point around this moment, it was a driving force and a beacon to look up to when times were tough. what if the experience is nothing like his dreams and he ends up disappointed? what happens when the mission's over? what'll become of him?).

also starfleet's assigned him a galaxy-class starship with families onboard and he's having a Time because of it (what if they get hurt under his watch. what if he gives the wrong order and a child dies. starfleet officers know the risks of space travel and are aware of this but the families. the children). other than that he's having a great time !!

kath's half-betazoid on her mother's side, but she never knew her mother nor has she ever been to betazoid (i really went woe! being mixed and only connected to one of your cultures but still being unable to fit in even there because of the fact that you're mixed be upon ye!). she's trying real hard to learn more about betazoid and who her mother is even though she knows she won't really feel like she "belongs" in betazoid either. she's working on understanding and using her empathic/telepathic powers more.

oh also!! pulitzer is a notorious and not-well liked admiral, when kath joined the acedmy she officially had her name changed to plumber and has since told no-one that they're related (this surely won't backfire terribly on her in the future)

also because this is the spot (cat) show, kath loves spot (cat) and wants to babysit her and play with her but alas. she is allergic to cats

race cannot catch a break– he's got a massive losing streak at senior officer poker night, spot (cat) hates him, he can't grow a beard but every time theres an impostor/clone/mirror universe situation the other version of him always has a beard (this is half in jest but also it amuses me wbwb)

jokes aside, i've been having a whole bunch of race as first officer thoughts (and a lot of riker and race parallel thoughts but. that's another story). i don’t really know how to explain it other than the way riker acts in the last episode of tng season two (yes, the riker montage episode) when facing death (joking around and keeping up the appearance of flippancy and courage in the face of agonising death because he’s first officer and there are people who look up to him and he has to set an example) seemed very race and very kony to me, in a way. (youve got this to blame for riker beard race. im not sorry)

race is also one of the first people to advocate for les becoming acting ensign. he makes it very clear that he's in les' corner and makes himself responsible for his studies and sometimes his training (and he teaches him poker).

OH ALSO! sarah and davey didnt know les ws going to be onboard and only found out about his presence after they'd set off. did he sneak onboard?? mayyyybeee (he just really wants to be a starfleet officer). after the initial shock (and notifying their parents) sarah and davey start the Let Les on the Bridge campaign (letting him watch the bridge from the turbolift, helping out in sciences and engineering, etc etc) the that eventually leads to les becoming acting ensign. it reaches a point where most of jack's senior officers would probably mutiny all for this kid.

there's more stuff but i'll stop rambling now because, again, i have a problem with being concise wbwbw. thankyou soso much for the ask rizz once again i love your star trek au so much and am always eager to hear more wbwbw!!! :D

[rookrecurring]

I don’t know where you’re at with this question or how often you’ve been asked it, but how are you doing these days? What have you been up to? I did a triple take when you started posting again and it’s good to see your art again! I hope you’ve been well.

—longtime RMR fan

Hi! This is such a kind message, I appreciate you checking in. I feel like I've been offline for so long that I'm always surprised to hear anyone remembers me or Red Moon Rising at all, haha. I've received a few emails here and there from former readers over the years which I've replied to, but I think it's probably time to say something more public in case anyone else has similar questions.

I tried and completely failed to keep this concise - sorry for rambling all over your relatively simple ask, but the long and short of it is: I'm doing pretty ok! Life is confusing and difficult! More under the cut!

In all honesty, I burned out very badly while working on Red Moon Rising. The tipping point unfortunately coincided with the Kickstarter for the print version (way back in 2017), but in retrospect it was a long time coming.

Shocking no-one, webcomics basically pay nothing and I was treating it as a job on top of the commission and freelance work I was paying the bills with, and in the end it just kind of crushed me. I became very overwhelmed with the work required to get the comic ready for print in the time that followed, so I never quite gave myself space to recover from the burnout because I felt such an obligation to fulfill the Kickstarter - people had paid good money for this and I wanted them to receive the books they had been promised.

The good news these days is that the Kickstarter is more or less all the way there. My publisher has been an absolute saint this entire time, checking in with me about the work without ever being demanding or pushy, and a few months ago a box arrived at my flat with all three volumes (consisting of the first 300-ish pages) of Red Moon Rising in print.

It's hard to be ecstatic after such a tiring journey to put it all together, but I'm proud of what we made. I can't overstate what a great job I think my publisher has done and how kind they've been to me - they received a lot of flak from people about the massive delays and never once threw me under the bus or pressured me to work harder or faster.

Regarding RMR's future: the website is currently down, but it shouldn't be for long. I've had some help from a friend recently (a recurring trend that I'm very grateful for) and the site should be back online soon more or less as it was. Pages, commentary, comments, everything.

However, the comic will remain on semi-permanent hiatus - never say never, but for the moment I've moved on.

I'm sure this isn't a surprise considering the last page was posted six years ago, but I hope it's not too disappointing for anyone. I always thought I would come back to it sooner or later, but I still feel like I need some space.

-

On an even more personal note, it's been a crazy few years. I think everyone has had a difficult time recently what with the… well, everything. I've been through a lot of health problems, some very difficult housing and financial situations, and I also came out as gay and asexual to my friends and family, and now to anyone who happens to be reading this.

Fortunately I have no horror stories regarding this last point, everyone around me has been beyond supportive and kind. I think the main takeaway I have from this period of my life is how amazing my friends are. I could probably fill this post to the character limit talking about the lovely people in my life and the numerous kind things they've done for me. I'm in a very good place right now thanks to them.

So in a post-Kickstarter, post-RMR world I'm at a bit of crossroads these days. I feel like my burnout has finally more or less faded and I've quietly been up to all sorts of small things.

I spent a lot of this year learning Japanese to an intermediate level (mostly through watching hundreds of episodes of Super Sentai shows in pure Japanese), something that didn't occur to me I would ever be capable of until I started doing it

I've been composing more orchestral music and sending it to like two people

I did a game jam!

I picked up Python programming recently and am trying to create a program to act as a music composition aid

I speedran learning Blender last year for a job application and made exactly one (1) piece using it that went so well I'll probably never draw a building by hand ever again

I've been playing a lot of DnD and other tabletop RPGs and made quite a bit of art related to those that I never posted anywhere

My biggest freelance project of the year was doing all the art for a friend's board game project that I'm cautiously excited about - it should be seeing the light of day some time next year

Basically I'm approaching some sort of critical mass of "uhhh maybe someone on the internet might like to see what I'm up to if I actually posted it" and now I'm confronting the scary emotions of once again being visible online. Yet another friend has offered to help me set up some kind of art stream in the near future and I think I might actually work up the nerve to do it.

-

Compared to 2017 the internet now is obviously a very different place and it's quite intimidating to step back into it if I'm being honest. It feels like there's much more pressure on Cultivating A Brand™ and I can already tell I'm going to be completely terrible at it because that pressure to be a consistent Content Creator™™™ totally smashed my brain in before and I'm not interested in going there again.

On the other hand, I appreciate that someone who is interested in seeing my handful of bird drawings one month might not also be interested in seeing my Tokusou Sentai Dekaranger fanart the next. I don't really know what to do about that except post these things anyway, because otherwise they're just piling up on my hard drive.

So that's it, really! My life is a lot more stable these days and I'm tentatively planning on posting more stuff here and possibly other places too. Thanks again for the ask, and sorry for the impromptu novel!

[which-hospital]

Sinking Ships - Day 2 (22/06/24)

I like that it's finally warm but my hayfever has been terrible all day. I wanted to get back to watching series 4 tonight but I'm too uncomfortable to pay attention so I think I'll just rewatch some 2000s romcoms instead.

How long has it been since I did an actual episode review post? I feel like it’s been since before Charlie left. I’m not writing this because I particularly liked the episode, more because I was able to and I haven't felt able to for months.

I’m never concise so it’s all below the cut, like usual. Collected, probably incomplete, Teddy Thoughts are at the end.

I think I audibly gasped at the reveal that Rich is married to Siobhan. They did a good job at keeping it out of the spoilers and now we know it feels kinda obvious that they’d do that but I was very much shocked. Honestly, I am looking forward to Stevie getting into relationship drama with Siobhan’s husband - still misery, but fun inconsequential romance drama misery! Anyway, thank you Sandra Mute (and Andrew Ponting) for giving us the start of affair drama all those many years ago… “She shouldn't be seeing him, if his wife finds out it- it'll-.” “Well, you should've thought about that before you went with him!” projecting-onto-a-patient scene and all that. I suppose at least Sandra didn’t work with Beryl (though they had apparently met). I also just generally enjoyed Stevie and Siobhan's stuff in this episode, I like seeing how different characters approach being clinical lead and how it affects their relationships with everyone else.

Ngozi is my shining star, I love her so much. That scene with her, Rida and Stevie where they were talking about Dervla? Great.

Cam… I’m glad people are enjoying his stuff but I’m not super invested in it. I thought Cam was alright early on, then he didn’t do much but mope around about Jodie for a year and it prevented me from developing much actual interest.

Teddy. I am always happy to see him and yet I wish the show would leave him alone. I don't like that of all the things they could choose to carry forward and remember about Teddy, they're holding onto all the OOC stuff he did last miniseries. (And then acting like to be ‘redeemed’ for it, he must act like all the people who treated him terribly didn’t do that.) Take the opportunity to drop it, it's not like they don't already constantly decide not to follow through with Teddy. REMEMBER GETHIN DYING? Because in-universe we're coming up on a year since that happened. Hey, they remembered he's turned 25 (which facilitates my 'Teddy being happy' birthday thoughts), at least.

Incredibly petty and really the least of my concerns with Casualty lately but I still hate Teddy/Jodie!! Their relationship makes me cringe. He got to smile in this episode and I wasn't expecting that but it was in a cringe Teddy/Jodie scene. I know I'm being impossible to please and I don't even care!

Iain and Faith stuff also happened. I wish it hadn’t. I don’t understand the obsession the show has with telling us (almost literally TELLING US through Faith at one point in the episode) that Iain is so very special and nice and brilliant and acting like he’s got such a special relationship with every other paramedic. It bothered me when they’d do that with Jacob, Sah and Jan, it bothers me even more that they’ve started doing that with him and Teddy because Teddy is the character it makes the least sense for. Also, what was Teddy thanking him for? I’m sorry, I think the way Iain was in Teddy’s storyline last miniseries was terrible and that Teddy owes him precisely nothing. I am really not looking forward to another miniseries of Iain/Faith and 'Iain Criticises Others For Playing The Hero While He Does The Same But He Gets To Do It Because He’s Not Like Other Paramedics' but whatever. Anyway, I wish they’d had Jacob work with Teddy considering he was clearly at work. Oh, yeah, also GO AWAY FAITH.

[ask-tfpratchet]

One more thing

Okay, I’m so sorry for the long asks. I’m annoying, I know, but I just think you’re really interesting! You know so much cool stuff that I wanna know :D

Okay, now…I thought I’d help ya out. You keep getting asked about a lotta stuff that you’d have no way of knowing. To pay you back for explaining all this cool stuff, I’ll help you out a little.

Please preemptively forgive my garbage explanations: I am drastically oversimplifying because this is a very complex facet of humanity and human identity, on which I am nowhere near an expert.

Humans can fall in love. I’d assume your species can as well, considering just how Primus-damned similar our psychologies are. So I really hope you know what that turn of phrase means.

To put it bluntly, you and Optimus are best friends. Like, best friends. Like ‘I-would-claw-my-own-Spark-out-and-berserker-rampage-against-a-whole-group-of-enemies-because-they-looked-at-you-funny’ best friends. Okay, that last one is a bit of an exaggeration, but whatever.

People are asking if you want a more intimate, personal connection with him. If you were human, this would likely include physical components (which, if you really want to, you can look up, but I’d highly recommend against it; there’s a lot of shit that I’m sure you don’t wanna see). I’m not sure what dating/courting/marriage rituals are like for your species, but that’s what they’re talking about.

‘Gay’ is a male who is attracted to males, ‘queer’ is a general term under which ‘gay’ falls, ‘LGBT+’ and any variations are general terms under which ‘gay’ falls, etc.

Basically, people are asking if you are in love with Optimus. ‘Having a crush on’ is simply another (and somewhat euphemistic) way of saying ‘being in love with’.

I’m not saying I agree with their assessment of ‘yes’ (it’s something only you can answer anyway, but my hypothesis is ‘no’), I’m just tryna be helpful. I’m so sorry.

Now for the actual question! Damn, I need to just shut up…

I am aware people have asked, but please allow me to reiterate: do you know what the tsundere trope in anime is? Because you share key features. I would recommend looking it up, but please be aware: the typical tsundere character is romantically tsundere, which is to say they act tsundere towards their romantic interest. You are platonically and familially tsundere, which is to say you act tsundere towards those you love as friends and family.

Okay, I’ll leave you alone now. Again, I’m so sorry to take up your time. Please take care of yourself!

No I do not know what tsundere or anime is and no I am not looking it up. Me and Optimus are just old friends! You humans try to romanticize everything, Primus…

Again, I must insist that you keep your asks and explanations short. Though I appreciate your explanations. They do help. Just rest assured that you can ask as many things as you want and I will answer when I am able. Just keep them short so I may read them and answer in an orderly fashion.

Also, don’t apologize so much. Wanting to help others is nothing to be ashamed of. You don’t have to be sorry. Feel free to ask any more questions. Just know I will not be able to answer too many at a time so keep them concise and short.

[just-jordie-things]

i dont know if you were asked this before, sorry if i am bothering you! Do you have any writing tips? I don't have anything specific but just any in general. I really admire your work!

you're so sweet!! i feel like i'm the last person who should be giving writing advice as i just blindly go into a brainrot induced stupor and spout off into docs as if i'm screaming into the void-- i have been asked this before but it's no trouble to copy it!! <3

a biggie take your time finding your style- as you can see on my masterlist i have a looot of shit on there from years of writing fanfic and experimenting. getting out of my comfort zone can be kinda hard for me personally, but with writing it was so worth it bc you can really see a metamorphosis there of when i was writing just to write and when i was writing with a drive.

don’t be afraid to ignore the rules of grammar. run on sentences are beautiful. i’ve found that especially so when the plot is driven by someone’s stream of consciousness as though they’re narrating it. thoughts are messy, they’re long and sometimes awkward and there’s no such thing as grammar in your mind !! of course spelling and punctuation are important and i’d recommend editing tho (idk her 😳) but get creative with it!!

thesaurus.com is my bestie 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 i often find myself using a lot of the same words and i don’t want to bore readers with repetitiveness! and also it’s just an easy way to expand my vocabulary too. (in person i stammer and have the reach of a fourth grader lmfao so i always want my writing to be concise and make the reader feel exactly what i want them to with my language)

also something i’ve started doing recently !! when i’m away from my wip and daydream about it, i write it down right away! in my notes app or on sticky notes or even my hand hehe. sure if it’s a significant enough plot point i’ll probably remember… but there’s no time like the present!! i want A to look at B a little differently in that one quick scene? i want to make them eat something different for foreshadowing? little details like that can be huge in your writing !! something a reader might gloss over but then realize later it was all a part of a greater scheme?? yes. so take note of those thoughts and daydreams you have !! even if you don’t end up adding it to your work, it’s better than having a profound, fic changing idea that you forget before you get the chance to write it!

this one is simple but a biggie- think about what you would want to read. i’ve been trying to keep this in mind as of late, especially when writing longer pieces where i want to make y’all suffer. find new ways to build the tension in your plot. give us different points of view, give us an untrustworthy narrator that thinks they’ve got it all figured out. throw in extra conflict. fanfiction is the melting pot of whatever the fuck you want !! so go stupid go crazy and make it something you love, and you should be good to go!! not to be cheesy but as long as you love it then you’re solid. doing something you love over and over will naturally lead you through growth and finding your style. don’t be wrapped up in notes right away (yes it can be a bit of an issue on this app- but none of has have control over how people enjoy your work- so you might as well focus on enjoying it for yourself) because as long as you’re doing something you’re passionate about and sharing it with us, more people will soon flock to enjoy it with you <3

lastly i just enjoy making mini playlists for whatever i’m currently working on. they don’t have to correlate completely with your plot. sometimes the sound of a beat is good enough for me to throw it on. if it gets me excited and planning out scenes i haven’t gotten to yet then it’s good enough for me!! i will listen to the same song on repeat in the name of ✨vibes✨ even if the words themselves have nothing to do with the plot i’m writing. that’s probably lazy basic advice but it works well for me and i love listening to music so !!

hopefully the copying of a previous ask isn't annoying and ya find this helpful! just my thoughts and processes tho, you gotta find a style that's best for you! and remember its a hobby. if you get stressed take a break and come back later! you're on your own schedule, and you don't owe anyone anything, so just have fun!