#because i'm meant to be working at the same time.

[primrose19]

I haven't been quiet about my dislike (hatred, even) of the last two episodes of the show but I'll say it again

(I cannot speak for everyone, obviously, so these are just my personal feelings on the matter)

People tend to confuse "happy" with "satisfying" endings. Let's look at Lilia's episode. She died. Literally. Technically, that is a "sad" ending. But it wasn't, actually, because I did not feel sad. Quite the opposite, actually, I ADORED how her arc was concluded. I had happy tears. Her end truly felt like a beginning. My point is, I was expecting the same emotional impact from Agatha's end because there was no way this show would end any other way. Agatha was always going to die. But execution fucking matters. Hell, the hug in e4 had more emotional impact than the kiss. Do you know why? Because in the, supposedly, Agatha centered show, we got BARELY NOTHING regarding Agatha's backstory and we got EVEN LESS about Rio and Agatha's relationship. And I'm not even speaking from a shipper perspective. But Agatha's story has been so interwoven with Death, it feels like something fucking crucial to show. I don't disagree that there's a certain allure in leaving things unsaid and implied but when you want to have that sort of ending, it needs to have the emotional impact to back it up. The ending needs to fit the rest of the show (example: HTTYD 3, but we are not going to unravel that disaster here since it's neither the time nor the place for it).

And don't even get me started on the comic book lovers. "It's ending was comic book accurate so I'm happy!" Well, I'm not a comic book reader. This ending meant absolutely nothing to me the way it was shown. Which brings me back to my first point; execution fucking matters.

As for your "this is not the end of them" comment, I don't necessarily disagree. Originally, another thing that made me hate the ending was the fact that we got no resolution between the two. At least, no explicitly shown resolution. Now, I think maybe they left it open-ended on purpose, to maybe (hopefully) touch upon that in future projects. However, it truly does feel like the time for the backstory is over. I can't fully explain this feeling but the closest example I could give is spinoffs; you know how you get certain main characters and then this work gets a spinoff with a new set of protagonists but the old ones still make some appearances here and there? You get to know what they're up to in present time but you no longer get a full view of them. That's what this feels like.

Anyway, thank you for coming to my Ted talk

Honestly, I don't understand the people who are bitter about the way Agatha All Along ended. I thought it was freaking amazing.

Agatha and Rio got to be angry and in love and epically drawn to each other. And petty as all hell.

We got a kiss (and Rio's face those seconds before Agatha kissed her and she felt it coming). We got to see the wounds Agatha left in Death. We got to see a moment where Agatha essentially forgave Death (even if she wouldn't acknowledge it to Rio). We watched Rio cover her grave in the color that meant most to Agatha. We watched how Rio gave Agatha the time to love her son (because even if the older Agatha refused to see it - because it hurt too much - she would clearly have taken that gift a second time if she found herself back in that moment).

And it wasn't even the end of them, because if you don't think Rio is going to keep pursuing Agatha's soul now that she's floating around as a ghost instead of coming home to her, you're wrong (you're just... wrong).

It might not have been a "happy ending" but it was freaking glorious.

[h50europe]

BUCK / TOMMY - HELL HATH NO FURY LIKE A FANDOM SCORNED!

I did some thinking. Never good, but my brain can't wrap around the breakup that came out of the left field.

Recently, it was announced that a spin-off of "9-1-1" is in the works. While no locations have been finalized, Hawaii and Las Vegas have been suggested as potential settings. The showrunner is already working on the project, with filming set to begin in March 2025.

However, one of my biggest fears has come true: the focus of the showrunners is being diverted from the current show to concentrate on this new spin-off. All the energy runs in the new project. Also, at this point, we don't know if the mothership will be renewed. Without an early renewal, we must wait until May for the announcement. That is another reason why they are focusing on the new show. I wonder if this is why the plots feel rushed and repetitive. It's nice to revisit the past, but not ad nauseam. 9-1-1 does it too often lately. What's the point in bringing back Gerard and turning him into the butt end of a joke? What's the point in digging out Abby's Tommy and hanging it around Tommy Kinard's neck when nothing was ever mentioned in the past. The focus is clearly not on the current show. It feels like Tim abandoned the ship to board a new one. It's fresh, it's crisp, it leaves room for a lot of things. Even if the breakup was meant as a shocker. If your focus is somewhere else, you don't see it. Right now, the mothership is leaking and starting to sink. If Tim keeps his focus on the new project and isn't invested in the current show, the lights will go out sooner rather than later.

Bringing in an established character was probably the biggest mistake Tim could have made if he wasn't meant to stick around. Bring in Mary Sue or Marty Stu to be a LI but not a character with a history that connects to so many people on the show. You can't sideline them forever. Especially as Buck's bi-arc was announced as something big. And it was big. A bit too big to be treated the way it was. The fanbase that had built around TEVAN, or BUCKTOMMY, within weeks, was massive. It drew so many members of the queer community into the show. Suddenly, many of them felt seen. Tommy and Buck were different from the other queer characters out there. Different from what was represented on any other show. People were willing to watch to get the slightest glimpse of them. Because they felt real. Their chemistry shot into the stratosphere.

And then you go and end it on such a horrible note? I don't care if the haters call Tommy a plot device. Everyone on the show is one at some point—even Christopher, Eddie, or anyone else from the main or recurrent cast, Karen, for instance, the Wilson kids. You name it. Tommy Kinard came, saw and conquered. So why not give him more room? They did it with Taylor (yes, I know JLH was pregnant then, but that's reason enough? I doubt it). As I said in my other long post, you could cut in a sequence of 5 minutes and show a summary of Tommy's and Buck's life.

Tim makes the same mistake as many showrunners do. Cramming a shitload of plots into 42 minutes of airtime. Is it really necessary to tell that many stories in such a short amount of time? That feels like speed dating. You blink, and you miss an important scene. Every episode, you jump from plot A to B to A to C to B. We didn't have this fast pacing in season 1 or 2. Stop it. Make Quality plots over quantity stuff.

In Tommy's voice: And for God's sake, clean up that mess you created with that shitty breakup, or the audience will wither away.

I'm sorry. I could write a book about what is happening in my head. You'd get Super Brownie points if you made it here.

[joyfulcowboycandy]

My muse

Malleus Draconia x Reader

❥ one shot

Content warning: ...it's fluffy. Maybe that there are no established relationships? Oh, Y/n has social anxiety here and is an artist. Y/n takes yuu's place and no grim! :( he was turned into cat stew

Note: This is 4.1k words. Brace yourself ......Gosh I love Malleus, I have so many ideas for him........ I love good girl x bad boy typa dynamics I'm sooo not used to posting my ideas it's nervewrecking to share something so personal to me. I'm glad people seem to like them still!

fem reader

The sprawling stone arches of Night Raven College towered overhead as Y/n looked around, her heart a chaotic blend of excitement and unease. She was surrounded by bustling students, each one glancing her way with varying degrees of curiosity and indifference, but all carrying an air of mystique and confidence. She swallowed, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her shirt as she tried to keep herself from looking too out of place, which was easier said than done. She felt like a fish out of water—a lost, magicless girl in a sea of powerful beings, standing out not because she wanted to, but because she had no choice.

The courtyard buzzed with conversation, but every once in a while, a murmur seemed directed her way, and she could catch bits and pieces of whispered phrases.

“Is she the magicless one?”

“She doesn’t look like she belongs here…”

“Oh, she looks nervous.”

Her cheeks warmed at the attention, and she felt an urge to shrink into herself, maybe find a corner where she could hide until everything settled down. But she took a steadying breath instead. She had to be brave—she’d promised herself that she’d make this strange place work, somehow. After all, this was a second chance, an escape from a life she’d rather leave behind. If she was going to find herself anywhere, it might as well be here, in this strange, enchanted school. Even if it meant being the “magicless” one.

Lost in thought, Y/n barely noticed the approaching figures until one leaned in close, a familiar pair of mismatched eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Hey, little guppy,” Floyd drawled, his grin wide and sharp. He poked her lightly, his finger pressing right into her shoulder, making her stumble back a step in surprise. “Aren’t you jumpy? You look like you’re about to pass out!”

She let out a shaky laugh, cheeks flushed. “N-No, I’m fine! Just… adjusting.”

“Awww, look at that.” Jade, Floyd’s twin, sidled up on her other side, his voice smooth but carrying that same teasing edge. “It’s always refreshing to have someone with such… natural reactions. Isn’t that right, Floyd?”

Floyd snickered, leaning closer until she had to tilt her head up just to look at him. “It’s hilarious,” he said, his grin widening as he seemed to take in every flustered detail of her expression. “What, did no one ever tease you back home?”

Y/n’s gaze darted down, a nervous laugh slipping out. “W-Well, no… not really,” she admitted softly, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Well, that’s a pity.” Jade’s eyes glimmered with intrigue. “We’ll just have to make up for all that lost time.”

They laughed, and though she couldn’t help the heat spreading across her cheeks, she managed to laugh along, even if a little nervously.

As the twins wandered off, leaving her to catch her breath, she exhaled, trying to release the nervous energy buzzing through her. She caught herself fidgeting again, trying to brush off the lingering embarrassment. Her shyness had always been a part of her, something she hadn’t been able to shake, even here. It was hard enough to make friends back home; she could only imagine how much harder it would be in a school full of people who seemed so confident, so... powerful.

But beneath her anxious thoughts, there was something else—an excitement, faint but real. A tiny spark of curiosity to explore, to learn everything she could about this world and the people in it. Here, she was no longer tied to the past, to the hurt and broken pieces she’d left behind. Here, she could be whoever she wanted. She could start again.

Even if it took her a thousand blushes, a hundred nervous laughs, and countless teasing encounters.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆

Living at Night Raven College and dealing with anxiety was difficult on its own. Y/N was the only female in the entire school, a fact known to everyone. Although the boys were decent enough not to be creepy or weird, they often teased her. She was always falling asleep in class or arriving late, which frequently earned her lectures from the teachers. This made her an easy target for teasing, though the boys never meant any harm (she hoped). She just wanted to stay on their good side. She wasn’t able to make any actual friends; her social anxiety always got in the way, and while she wasn't exactly avoided, she didn’t have anyone to confide in or talk to. She never blamed the boys, understanding that her anxiety made social interactions challenging.

Art was her only way to express herself, a cherished hobby since childhood. When she drew, she didn't need to worry about stumbling over her words or fiddling with her shirt to distract from her racing heart. It was also the only thing she had from her life back on Earth. She arrived in Twisted Wonderland with nothing but her own body and knowledge—not even the clothes on her were from home. She felt completely empty, making her art even more comforting.

Unfortunately, her inspiration always struck at night. She never understood why, but she did her best work during those hours. This habit interfered with her schoolwork and potential friendships, contributing to her clumsiness and constant drowsiness in class. She didn’t get enough sleep, being too busy illustrating the random things that caught her eye around the empty campus or the garden outside the Ramshackle dorm.

One night, she was by the old fountain, peering into the dirty water and watching her squirming reflection. The garden was beautiful, with slightly overgrown grass and numerous bushes and flowers she loved to draw. It was also peaceful, offering a gorgeous view of the moon high in the dark sky. Twisted Wonderland wasn’t much different from Earth, aside from the glaring difference of magic and slightly outdated technology. She was happy they at least had art supplies and canvases, which she was allowed to borrow. No one else seemed interested in drawing, so the supplies had been rotting in the storage room. When she asked to use them, Crowley was overjoyed that someone would finally make use of them.

Sitting in peace, enjoying the silence and the slight rustle of leaves, she sketched an owl glaring down at her from a tree a few feet away. She stayed silent, limiting her movements to avoid scaring it.

However, the sound of approaching footsteps startled the owl, causing it to fly away. Y/N gasped in disappointment, standing up from her seat as she watched the owl disappear into the little forest. It was then she noticed the presence that had joined her in the quiet garden. Tightening her grip on her pen and notebook, she reluctantly turned to face the intruder, her eyes widening in surprise upon seeing Malleus Draconia.

Malleus stood silently, his eyes analyzing her with intrigue. Despite his fearsome reputation and the rumors that surrounded him, Y/N felt something akin to adoration. Under the moonlight, his horns, long hair, and calm, calculating eyes made him appear otherworldly. An urge to draw him struck her.

Without thinking, she blurted out, “Can I draw you?”

Malleus’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, a subtle reaction that she noticed. The corners of his lips curled into an amused smile, and he tilted his head slightly. The sight made Y/N's heart leap in her chest. She realized how strange her request was, especially as the first thing she had ever said to him. She felt embarrassed and stupid for being so weird, but she couldn’t deny how striking he looked under the moonlight. If he agreed to her request, she would be overjoyed.

Malleus studied her for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “Very well,” he finally said, his voice smooth and resonant. “You may draw me.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up with joy. “Thank you!” she exclaimed, her shyness momentarily forgotten in her excitement. She quickly found a comfortable spot to sit and began sketching, her eyes darting between Malleus and her sketchbook.

As she worked, Malleus watched her with a curious glint in his eyes. “Why do you wish to draw me?” he asked, breaking the silence.

Y/N paused, considering her words carefully. “Umm… you looked really pretty under the moonlight,” she said softly, her cheeks flushing. “I’ve never seen horns like yours before, or eyes such a vibrant neon green. They’re really pretty.”

Malleus’s smile widened slightly, an almost imperceptible shift. “Is that so?” he murmured, amusement lacing his tone. “You find my appearance... pretty?”

Y/N nodded, her focus returning to her sketch. “Yes! I do,” she admitted.

They continued in comfortable silence, the only sounds being the soft rustle of leaves and the scratch of her pencil on paper. Y/N’s initial nerves faded as she immersed herself in her art. When she finished, she held up the sketch for Malleus to see.

Malleus studied the drawing, his expression unreadable. “You have captured more than just my appearance,” he said quietly. “How curious.”

Y/N smiled shyly. “I’m happy you think so.”

Malleus continued to observe the sketch, his expression contemplative. “Do you come here every night?” he asked, his gaze shifting from the drawing to her eyes.

Y/N nodded, her previous excitement fading into shyness now that the high from drawing had worn off. “I do,” she replied softly. “I get inspiration here, and it’s comforting.” She fidgeted with the corner of her sketchbook, her voice growing quieter. “I like drawing here at night.”

Malleus tilted his head slightly, intrigued. “You prefer solitude?”

“Sometimes…” she admitted, her eyes dropping to the ground. “It’s peaceful. And… I guess it’s easier than trying to talk to people. Drawing doesn’t judge me or expect me to say the right things.” She gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. “I’m not very good at that.”

Malleus studied her for a moment, the moonlight casting a soft glow over his features. “I see. You find solace in your art,” he said, more as a statement than a question.

Y/N nodded again, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yes. I-It’s the one thing I can always count on.”

A thoughtful silence settled between them. Malleus seemed to understand her in a way she hadn’t expected. Despite his imposing presence and the intimidating rumors that surrounded him, she felt a surprising sense of ease in his company.

“You may continue to draw here,” Malleus said finally, his tone gentle yet authoritative. “And should you desire company, you have but to call for me.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at his words. “Thank you!”

As Malleus began to walk away, Y/N's curiosity got the better of her. "Wait," she called out, making him pause and turn back to face her. "Um- can I ask you something?"

He regarded her with a raised eyebrow, a hint of amusement still in his eyes. "You may."

Taking a deep breath, Y/N asked, "Are you really a prince? And a dragon!?"

Malleus nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Yes, I am. Prince of the Briar Valley and a descendant of the dragon fae."

Her eyes widened in amazement. "That’s so cool! Everyone always says you're super strong, but we're not in the same year, so I’ve never seen it myself. Can you… show me?"

Malleus considered her request for a moment, then extended his hand. A green, magical aura surrounded him, and suddenly, ethereal, dragon-like wings appeared on his back, glowing in the moonlight. He didn't transform fully but gave her a glimpse of his power and heritage.

Y/N gasped in awe, her eyes sparkling with admiration. "Wow," she breathed. "That’s amazing! You’re so cool."

Malleus retracted his wings, the aura fading as he resumed his usual form. "I am pleased that you think so," he said, his tone carrying a hint of pride.

Her mind still reeling from what she had witnessed, Y/N asked, "Can I draw you again another time? I mean, like this?"

He seemed to ponder her request, his gaze thoughtful. "Very well," he said finally. "You may. It is an honor to be your muse," he said, a teasing smile finding its way to his lips. "Perhaps we shall meet again tomorrow night?"

Y/N’s felt her face flush at his words. “M-my muse? And, yes! Okay!”

With a final, lingering glance, Malleus turned and disappeared into the early morning mist, and she returned to her dorm, with only a few hours left till school would start.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆

Since their initial meeting, Y/N’s encounters with Malleus grew in frequency, with each night solidifying their connection. Malleus had essentially become her muse, and she would show up with her art supplies, sketching and drawing him in numerous ways. He indulged her artistic passion, finding himself curious about her life while also sharing his own interests, particularly his fascination with gargoyles. She soon learned that his interest was so profound that he had created his own club dedicated to studying them, a fact she found incredibly cool.

Malleus, in turn, was intrigued by Y/N’s attraction to the very qualities that others found intimidating or unapproachable about him. Her genuine curiosity and admiration for aspects of his personality that were often deemed dark or formidable caught him off guard. He began to test her, asking questions designed to make her uncomfortable or to challenge her perception of him. Yet, to his surprise, she never faltered. Her view of him remained unchanged, always seeing the good in him.

It was a quality Malleus found both unusual and deeply attractive, especially in a place like Night Raven College, where cynicism and mistrust were more common than kindness and acceptance.

It seemed like just any other night when they met up in the overgrown garden, surrounded by flowers, bushes, overgrown grass, and the occasional firefly or grasshopper that graced them with its presence. Y/N, with her sketchbook in hand, was prepared to capture Malleus’s likeness once again. 

However, her curiosity had gotten the better of her tonight. She had grown so used to his company that she had momentarily forgotten his title as a literal prince.

Her eyes kept darting to his horns, the dark, curved structures that were as much a part of him as his regal demeanor. She couldn’t hold in her adoration any longer. Gathering her courage, she finally blurted out, “Malleus, can I… can I touch your horns?”

The words tumbled out before she could stop herself, and she instantly regretted it. Her face flushed, and she began stammering nervously, waving her hands in a frantic attempt to apologize. “I’m sorry! That was so rude of me. I shouldn’t have—”

Malleus, watching her with his characteristic calm, marveled at her audacity. It was rare a person who would even dare ask him such a thing, and yet here she was, this small, magicless human, filled with curiosity and adoration, doing just that.

He found her ignorance and boldness endearing. With a soft chuckle, he said, “It’s quite alright. You may.”

She stared at him in shock for a moment before he bent down on one knee and lowered his head slightly, giving her better access to his horns. Her hands trembled as she raised them, hesitating briefly before she gently touched one of his horns. It was smooth and cool to the touch, and she couldn’t help but let her fingers wander, tracing the intricate curves and shapes.

As she ran her fingers along his horns, her hands gradually moved into his hair, entangling in the soft, well-kept strands. This was clearly not what they had agreed upon, but she couldn’t help herself. His hair was unexpectedly soft and comforting, and she found herself running her fingers through it, almost forgetting where she was.

Malleus, to her immense surprise, allowed her this intimacy. He typically disliked when people were too casual with him, but with her, it felt different. Her touch was gentle and filled with genuine curiosity, and it felt surprisingly nice.

When she finally pulled her hands away, her face was a deep shade of red. “I’m so sorry, Malleus. I didn’t mean to…”

He leaned closer to her, his eyes glinting with amusement. “May I touch your hair, in return?”

She froze in surprise, not expecting his request. Before she could respond, he reached out and ruffled her hair gently, a slight mockery of her earlier actions. The touch was surprisingly tender, and it made her heart skip a beat.

“You have lovely hair,” he said, his voice soft but teasing.

She blinked up at him, still flustered but now smiling shyly. “Oh…. thank you…,” she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

Malleus straightened up, his eyes still fixed on her. “You continue to surprise me, Y/N.”

Her heart fluttered at his words. “Is that a good thing?”

“Very much so,” he replied with a small smile.

“Um, I made a new drawing of you, but… I forgot to bring it with me.” Y/N’s voice trembled, her heart thumping with anxiety. “Can I… bring it to your dorm tomorrow? I want you to have it…”

It was a big step—after all, she and Malleus had only ever met in the garden at night. By day, they moved in different circles, and he was two grades above her, making their lives all the more separate. Their nighttime meetings had always been their own little world, a space where she’d sketch him and he’d indulge her, sharing stories of Briar Valley or answering her curious questions. But the idea of entering his territory, his life outside their usual routine, felt nerve-wracking.

She braced herself, half-expecting him to refuse. Their friendship, if she could even call it that, had never been formally established. He was her quiet, mysterious muse, and she was the strange, sleepy artist who drew him in shadows and starlight. Despite herself, though, she hoped he didn’t see her as just a source of amusement. She cherished their time together, and the thought of being nothing more than a curiosity to him made her stomach twist.

Malleus, however, seemed blissfully unaware of her concerns. He regarded her with his usual calm, interpreting her nervousness as another shy moment—something she was known for, after all.

“Very well, then. Seek me out after your classes in Diasomnia,” he agreed with a nod.

Y/N’s face lit up, her relief breaking into a bright smile as she nodded eagerly. “Okay! I will.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆

That night, after they parted ways, she returned to her dorm, her mind buzzing with thoughts of him. She often wondered how he managed to look so well-rested while she dragged herself through the day half-awake. Somehow, despite their nightly rendezvous, he attended all his classes, excelling in every subject. It was something she’d definitely ask about later, though for now, her focus was on perfecting the drawing she wanted to give him.

The next day, her morning went as expected—late to class, with her uniform haphazardly thrown on. Professor Trein made her stand outside for twenty minutes before finally letting her back in, and she gratefully slipped into her seat between Ace and Deuce. Though the two were notorious troublemakers, they left her in peace, allowing her to nap behind a book she propped up to look as if she were reading.

The following classes went in much the same way: some mild prodding from her classmates in her second class, a merciless session with Floyd in the third where he wouldn’t let her close her eyes for even a second, and finally a lunch break where she napped in the library. By her last class, she was somewhat awake, counting down the minutes until she could go to Diasomnia with her drawing.

As the bell rang, she set off, her heart pounding with excitement and a touch of nervousness. She’d spent so many nights working on this drawing that she wanted it to be perfect. Walking through the school, she felt the usual wary stares and heard the murmurs of students discussing Diasomnia and its prince with hushed voices. Most feared Malleus, but she couldn’t understand why. Perhaps it was because she’d met him alone in the quiet of the night, where they’d spoken freely without any pretense. She couldn’t help but feel that her bond with him was something rare, and maybe a bit fragile, too.

Upon arriving at Diasomnia, she noticed it was fairly quiet. When she asked after Malleus, most simply shrugged or said they didn’t know. A little disappointed, she learned that the third years might still be in lessons. Deciding to wait, she found a cozy spot in the lounge and settled in, passing the time by flipping through her sketchbook, which was filled with sketches of Malleus and scenes of Briar Valley as he’d described them.

Gradually, she began to grow drowsy from the soft, warm atmosphere of the lounge. The couch was incredibly comfortable, and before long, she’d drifted off, her sketchbook slipping onto her lap.

Some time later, the sensation of a weight lifting from her lap stirred her from sleep. She opened one eye groggily and noticed her sketchbook was missing. She shifted slightly, assuming it had fallen to the floor, and shut her eyes again, settling into the warmth of the armrest, deciding to look for it after another minute’s rest.

As Y/N rested peacefully, the sound of soft footsteps drifted through the lounge, though she remained undisturbed. Lilia, who had been wandering through Diasomnia’s halls, paused when he noticed her asleep on the couch. With a fond smile, he tilted his head, taking in the scene. Her presence here was unexpected, yet oddly familiar; she reminded him of Silver, the way she slept so soundly, though perhaps for entirely different reasons.

Lilia's gaze shifted to the sketchbook that had slipped onto her lap, its pages splayed open to reveal a delicate, meticulously drawn portrait of Malleus. He raised an eyebrow, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. Careful not to wake her, he gingerly picked up the sketchbook, his interest piqued.

“Ohhh, my, what do we have here…” he murmured, flipping through the pages with a mischievous grin. Nearly every other page was filled with sketches of Malleus—his contemplative gaze, his horns under moonlight, the sharp angles of his jaw. Each drawing captured a different side of Malleus, showing an unusual softness to the usually distant prince.

“So many drawings of our dear Malleus…” he whispered to himself, chuckling. The comment stirred Y/N from her slumber, her eyelids fluttering open as she took in her surroundings with bleary confusion.

“Huh…?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. The sight of Lilia holding her sketchbook made her jolt upright, her cheeks flushing.

“Ah, good evening!” Lilia greeted, closing the sketchbook with a smirk as he looked at her, amused by her flustered expression. “Didn’t mean to wake you… though it seems you have quite an eye for detail.” He gave the sketchbook a playful wave.

“Um… th-that’s…” She stumbled over her words, her face warm with embarrassment as she tried to reach for the sketchbook, but Lilia held it just out of reach.

“Is Malleus your muse, perhaps?” Lilia teased, inspecting one of the more recent drawings. “This is really quite impressive. But I wonder… did he know about this little ‘collection’ you’ve made of him?”

She stammered, her hands shaking as she reached out. “N-no, he just… I mean… um, it’s for practice! Just practice! He has, uh, interesting… features.”

“‘Interesting features,’ is it?” Lilia laughed. “Yes, I’m sure the horns and dragon scales make for good practice. I’ll have to tell him he’s become quite the artist’s inspiration.”

Y/N’s face reddened even more, and she quickly snatched the sketchbook as Lilia relinquished it with an amused smile. Just as she was about to stumble over another explanation, a familiar voice interrupted.

“Y/N,” Malleus’s calm voice echoed as he entered the lounge, looking between her and Lilia. “I apologize for keeping you waiting.”

“Oh, Malleus!” She nearly jumped, clutching the sketchbook to her chest. Malleus’s gaze softened when he looked at her, though his attention soon turned to Lilia, who was watching them with a look of dawning realization and unrestrained amusement.

Lilia clasped his hands together with a dramatic sigh. “My, my, Malleus. I didn’t know you had such devoted company in our dorm, coming here to deliver artwork no less.”

Malleus raised an eyebrow, glancing between them as understanding dawned on him. “I see you’ve made yourself acquainted with Y/N.”

“Oh, yes, indeed,” Lilia replied, giving Y/N a conspiratorial wink. “She’s quite the talented artist—though I must say, your likeness seems to be her specialty.”

Y/N ducked her head, overwhelmed and burning with embarrassment, but Malleus simply looked at her, intrigued. “Is that so?” he asked, a slight smile gracing his lips as he reached a hand out toward her. “If it’s ready, I’d like to see it.”

Flustered, she nodded, opening her sketchbook to the finished drawing she’d been working so hard on, holding it out with trembling hands. Malleus examined it, his expression softening as he traced the lines with his gaze.

“It’s… beautiful,” he murmured, glancing at her with a look that held an unusual warmth. “Thank you, Y/N.”

Beside them, Lilia’s eyes gleamed with silent amusement, watching the two of them with interest. “Well, I suppose I’ll leave you two alone,” he said with a wink, sauntering off with a chuckle.  “Just don’t keep her out too late, Malleus. I’m sure she needs her rest for all those upcoming drawings, hmm?”

Malleus watched Lilia disappear around the corner, shaking his head slightly as a small sigh escaped his lips. Turning back to Y/N, he noticed her still clutching her sketchbook tightly, her cheeks flushed. A gentle smile softened his normally serious expression, and he inclined his head to catch her gaze.

“You don’t need to be so nervous,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “It’s only me.”

She managed a small, tentative smile, but the blush on her cheeks remained. “I know,” she murmured, looking down. “I… just didn’t expect Lilia to… well, you know…”

Malleus chuckled quietly. “He does have a way of surprising people, doesn’t he? Though I find it intriguing how many drawings of me you’ve created. I hadn’t realized I was such an interesting subject.” He paused, an amused gleam in his eyes as he leaned forward slightly. “Or perhaps I’m only interesting when it’s nighttime?”

Y/N’s breath hitched as his words sank in. Her blush deepened, and she stammered, “I-I mean, you’re… interesting all the time, I just… it’s easier to focus on drawing when there’s less going on. At night, you’re… well, easier to approach.”

Malleus raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Am I, now?”

She nodded quickly, gripping the edges of her sketchbook. “Yes. I… I feel like I can be myself more when it’s just us. I don’t have to think too hard about… everything else.”

A warm silence settled between them, broken only by the soft rustling of the leaves in the courtyard beyond the lounge window. Malleus took a seat beside her on the lounge sofa, close enough that their shoulders nearly brushed. His hand rested casually on the cushion near her, though she could sense his attention focused entirely on her, an intensity lingering behind his composed demeanor.

“And I quite enjoy these moments we share at night,” he said quietly. “They are rare moments of solace. There aren’t many with whom I’d wish to spend this time.” His gaze was steady, almost possessive as it held her own. “You’re… different, Y/N.”

The way he spoke made her heart skip a beat, a warmth spreading in her chest that was both comforting and strangely unsettling. She swallowed, glancing down as she fumbled for words. “I… well, I like being here with you, too.”

Malleus smiled, satisfied with her response, and gestured toward her sketchbook. “May I see more?”

Wordlessly, she handed the sketchbook over, feeling a flicker of shyness as he carefully flipped through the pages.

[yeyinde]

Lev? Uncle Simon? I’m excited. I don’t even know what it’s about but I like the sound of it already

out of all the untitled documents to choose from who knew the uncle Simon one would stand out so much lmao this is super choppy but here's my little idea for the new version:

At first, she's a name on a piece of paper. 

An abstract concept. Black lines stamped into stark white. An idea—

(a phone call in the middle of the night that he wasn't expecting. 

"Mr Riley? Is this—right. Well, the reason I'm calling is because the adoption agency received a request from one of the adoptees about tracking down their biological family, and you were the only match.")

—a ghost. 

Out of everyone, he thinks he mourned her the most. This tiny, insignificant thing swathed in pale pink and cradled in the arms of her mother, his almost sister-in-law. Tommy leaning over her shoulder, eyes glazed in an artificial gloss (c'mon, Tommy) as they smile, vacantly, at the camera.

At the time, elbow deep in a shallow grave as he stared at the photo his mother sent him, all he could think was: she never stood a fuckin' chance. 

And she didn't. Her first night home from NICU was when his past came back for revenge. Bloodthirsty, vengeful. They sunk their claws into his family, tearing them into pieces. A nightmarish massacre they called him to discover.

(pinch me, Tommy, pinch me—)

Better off this way, he remembers thinking. Cruel. Callous. Staring down at a tiny grave��her name etched in stone; only days old before the monsters in his closet came searching for their due—and knowing that this was all his fault. And then: sorry, little bird. 

Sorry. Sorry—

But that little bird crawled out of the dirt. Made it out alive somehow. 

(better this way, the higher up said, resting a neat, unblemished hand on the folder marked Simon Riley. next to it, a mask lay on the table. generic. he hums around his grief, thinks of Tommy in the grave—milkwhite bones. "a clean break—"

he thought it was their attempt at humour. maybe an odd way to comfort him. but with the roaring in his ears, he couldn't hear much beyond the ache in his chest, and the ice-cold fury coiling in his belly.

"she's in a better place."

fuckin' hell—

he thought they meant some idea of heaven, not Salford.)

And now—

That name on a piece of paper has a face.

A pretty one, too.

And though he tries to find pieces of Tommy in the symmetry of her profile—and feels antsy, restless, when he does—she takes after her mother. Same complexion. Eyes. The slope of her nose. All of it the woman he met once—stumbling home to find them both passed out on the couch, heads knocked together as a dense cloud of smoke plumed around them. Her eyes, heavy lidded and red, gazing up at him uncomprehendingly.

"who're you?" slurred out in a smokey rasp. Tommy didn't even stir at the sound of her voice.

It's her but healthy. Youthful. Clear eyes. Hands that don't shake. Teeth that gleam white under the fluorescent light of the cafe she works at, not willow-brown. Stained yellow with nicotine. She's softer, too. The harsh, fragile angles of her mother tucked away under a thick pelt. Solid. Steady.

Happy.

He spends a lot of time just staring at her in the back of the dimly cafe, hood pulled over the black ballcap hung low on his brow. Medical mask in place of his typical knit balaclava. Barely blending in to the passel of the teenagers that seem to congregate, em masse, in the small coffeeshop.

Sometimes, she looks back at him. Catches his eye. Offers a smile that's only a little wobbly around the edges, brow pushed together as she tries to make sense of his presence here. With the chocolate trim and the cream walls, the heady scent of ground coffee in the air, chatter of schoolkids and professionals that skirt around him with a considerable dearth to reach the trashbin next to his table. It's clear he doesn't fit.

Doesn't belong.

It glues to the roof of his mouth. The passing, mean thought that neither does she.

Or—

She wouldn't.

If Tommy survived, she'd be leaning against the wall with him, listening to the distant echo of flushing toilets while the world seemed to carve out a steep chasm between them. Them and us. That's how it's always been with him and Tommy.

But she—

She fits.

Offers smiles as easily as breathing. Something that would have netted them a black eye from their raging old man, bellowing out that he'd give them something to smile at.

She doesn't look like anyone has ever raised a hand against her. And he supposes, thinking back on the information he managed to get the private detective hired by her new parents to squeal out, that she doesn't. Not her. No.

Grew up in Salford with her adoptive parents—much older than most looking to adopt, already in their late forties when she was just a year old. Lived a life on the right side of the tracks: spelling bees, private tutors. Vacations to Disneyland. They weren't rich. Not exorbitantly so, but they managed a comfortable lifestyle. Food on the table every night. Chores. Movie nights on Saturday where she got bring a friend for a sleepover. Pizza and popcorn and candy and her mother asking, want some more snacks, honey? Soft and gentle. That's what they were. Are. Doting. Kind.

Punishments were drenched in disappointment. Voices never raised. Hands never furling into fists.

She was a good kid raised by good people.

And he should be happy for her.

He is happy for her.

They raised her good and proper. Put food in belly. Never let her know hunger. Or pain. Neglect.

But he finds Tommy in her smile. The little dip of her chin, tucking her happiness into her collar as if she doesn't want it to be seen. It's all—him. Them.

Simon just can't seem to think around the idea of her belonging to someone else—

(she's his family, after all. his baby bird. his brother's daughter. his niece. his. his—

and maybe it's time baby bird—Baby Riley—came home.)

[nemesyaaa]

aaaargh I love this song so much, miss chapell Always serving but you did such a good job at capturing the lyrics to make it into a story. well done !! this is so funny to catch up every refs. but bro, I WOULD cheat on him and go for his sister ✋🏿☹️

it was so tiring being rafe's quick fix because you just wanted a real thing, y'know, not some quickie on his couch. the worst thing? your friends (not so friendly friends) call you a loser because you still hanging out with him, when any girl would have done dumped him and found someone better. but he is, or was your better. — already the beginning and i'm sat 😌‼️ i'm listening

it was like his mood immediately changed as he continued, "just a quick fix whenever we need it." when what he really meant to say was when he needed it. maybe you really should dump him. if that's how it really works. he kissed your forehead, "'n baby, no attachment." — the fact I read this and singing at the same time lmfaoooo

though three weeks ago he excused the both of you so he could be knee deep in the passenger seat while he was eating you out, remembering all those sweet nothings he whispered into you pussy that made you give him what he wanted. not to mention, he always acted so lovey dovey with you. and it was about time you got fed up. — really casual HUH.....

"all'that arguin' f'nothin', still my sweet, sweet sluty girl, ain't you?" he slowly rubbed your thighs , "you gotta be quiet though, don't want to embarrass yourself, do you?" he smugly grinned when you nodded, he dipped his fingers into your cunt, and your let out a surprised gasp, squeezing around his fingers.— the dirty talk please, pussy throbbing

he unbuttoned his pants, using his index to hook the loops were a belt would be to shove them down, following his boxers. he wiped the pre-cum off his tips, using his thumb to slide it into your mouth. "my girl takes everything." he whispered as you attentively sucked on his finger. — as the casual thing am i 💔💔💔💖

‘CASUAL’ RAFE CAMERON

genre smut, angst wordcount 1.4k

❝ i've heard so many rumors. ❜

content warnings ,, mentions oral (f!receiving), p in v, masterbation in the bathroom, 'no attachment sex', rumors (blegh, drama llama.), rafe and reader break up. s1 era.

it was so tiring being rafe's quick fix because you just wanted a real thing, y'know, not some quickie on his couch. the worst thing? your friends (not so friendly friends) call you a loser because you still hanging out with him, when any girl would have done dumped him and found someone better. but he is, or was your better.

sure, you did everything with rafe (when he called you up, not when you asked. sure one day you were fed up, left him a voicemail because of course he wouldn't pick up for you. "i've heard so many rumors." you said through the crackly phone. "that i'm just some girl you bang on your couch, i can't believe i thought you thought of me better."

an hour later (per usual), he answered you an hour later, telling you to 'hurry your ass out to tanneyhill'

you thought for a long hard while before ultimately deciding to head out to tanneyhill. where death literally layer waiting for you in your grave. you knew quite well what he was mad about and what he wanted, because you've sent multiple voicemails about the rumors going around outerbanks, you've heard about them and you‘be literally heard tourons living in the drama with you and rafe.

and you could never leave your back turned to long before people behind started murmuring up a storm.

you walked closer to your death in your busted up converses, running over impossible scenarios in your head. you stopped at the gate, texting rafe 'im here come to the gate.' you said with all intentions to be sassy. when you saw him, his pushed back curtain bangs, every part of him looked so hot.

he opened the gate, telling you to come on. rafe roughly grabbed your arm, taking you to his fathers study room were he did most of his work. whilst you were extremely liked throughout the cameron household, only you, rafe and maybe even sarah knew the real intent to your relationship. rafe said annoyingly, "we're not together, let me make myself clear.

it was like his mood immediately changed as he continued, "just a quick fix whenever we need it." when what he really meant to say was when he needed it. maybe you really should dump him. if that's how it really works. he kissed your forehead, "'n baby, no attachment." though three weeks ago he excused the both of you so he could be knee deep in the passenger seat while he was eating you out, remembering all those sweet nothings he whispered into you pussy that made you give him what he wanted. not to mention, he always acted so lovey dovey with you. and it was about time you got fed up.

you didn't expect for his step-mom, rose, two weeks later after the major argument with rafe to invite you for dinner at tanneyhill. rafe, put on a mock smile, ready to peel the skims dress off your body. you were greeted by ward, and did he piss you off, with the fake smiling and his eyes trailing across your body whenever he could. perv.

"welcome, you look nice and sophisticated." ward said with the nicest tone he could bear, "no wonder rafe doesn't bring you up, your so lovely i'd hog you to." he laughed, and it sounded so fake. rafe had his hand on the small of your back as he led you into the dining room.

you took a seat in between wheezie and sarah, rafe sat across from you, with a pissed off expression. like, how could your's and his situation be casual now? you've literally done every thing, fingering, eating you out, a little bit of intercourse action, you've jerked and sucked him off, and you've let him jerk off onto your tits, and it was somehow casual.

after dinner, rafe again, excused you and him to go to the bathroom. he led you to the bathroom, shutting the door as he told you demanding to get on his counter, you back pressing against the mirror. "fuck, y'look s'good tonight." he pushed up the skims dress up to your hips, "'n no underwear?"

"all'that arguin' f'nothin', still my sweet, sweet sluty girl, ain't you?" he slowly rubbed your thighs , "you gotta be quiet though, don't want to embarrass yourself, do you?" he smugly grinned when you nodded, he dipped his fingers into your cunt, and your let out a surprised gasp, squeezing around his fingers.

he kissed you, whispering sweet nothings like you and him didn't just have an argument two weeks ago.

he unbuttoned his pants, using his index to hook the loops were a belt would be to shove them down, following his boxers. he wiped the pre-cum off his tips, using his thumb to slide it into your mouth. "my girl takes everything." he whispered as you attentively sucked on his finger.

you sucked off all the pre-cum off his cock, rafe patting your cheek gently. he spread your legs more, giving him a great view of your pretty, coated pearl, pressing his finger against it, you rolled your head back into the mirror.

"rr-rafe!" you stuttered out as you cried out. he pulled away from your pretty pearl, aligning his cock with your tight hole. he thrusted into your hole, making you cry out for him again.

he squeezed your cheek, holding you in between his thumb and index finger. "c'mon baby give me more than that. not to loud though." he whispered harshly against your neck, gripping your thighs as he kept repeatedly bullying his way into you. and without break, he kept thrusting his cock into you, with a sneaky smirk. "your my girl aintchu?" he kissed your neck, taking a rest inside you.

rafe nipped at your neck as he moved his cock against your gummy hole. feeling you squeeze around him when he bite and sucked on your neck, he kept doing it. even if it felt like you wanted to squeeze his cock off inside of you. "s'tight. jus' how i like it." he whispered against your shoulder, bullying his way back in you as your gummy walls tried to push him out. he aggressively grunted in your ear, feeling the warmness off your breath as you let out a whimper and even softer moans. you gasped when he touched your g-spot, immediately convulsing around him but not yet coming on his cock.

he'd pulled out just before you could finish. he pulled his boxers, following his pants. he buttoned them up, leaving you desperate for release. you found yourself rubbing your clit trying any method of running your clit to come, though you weren't quite being able to finish off yourself. maybe the problem was that you never had to do anything yourself. you came on rafe's cock than he would come on your stomach.

you tugged your black skims dress back down, putting your heels back on as well before making your way out of the bathroom. you sat across from rafe as he had the satisfaction of making you better than before and not helping you like usual. it was great to see you a little grumpy, whilst a little nervous because you decided to be a little slut and go no underwear. but doesn't mean you weren't his little slut.

you were obviously out of it, because sarah had to tap you back into reality as everyone started eating. you cut the steak up before taking a bite of it. "this is really good ms. cameron, you'll have to teach me how to make it." you said cheerfully. rose smiled at you and nodded.

she was really proud of the fact you thought it was that good, but than of course, her cooking for the cameron's was something any mother should do, while some might think that she'd hire someone, she did it herself.

a week later, your friends had told you rafe had said it was casual still and that 'you get off when he hit it' when he never hit your clit not once. sure he left you drying for release but that wasn't the point. and that was near the last straw for you. you were tired.

you wanted a real relationship which was obvious that rafe wasn't ready for, so you found yourself calling him. and again, it wasn't something were he'd answer you, you said to him through the voicemail "i hate that i let this drag on so long, now i hate myself." you took a breath, "we're done." you said before slipping your phone in your pocket and walking away from the wreck after just having breakfast with your friend.

TAGS .ᐟ @archiveofvirtue @sematarygirls @beausling @mattsdolll @pr3ttyf4wn

@wi4hfulth1nking @gibson-g1rl

[tkwrites]

Okay I'm done now and heading to bed, one last question.

Can you name a favourite fic for each of the boys?

Hi my Lovely,

There are quite a few of your asks I haven't answered, but please know I'm not ignoring them. They'll just take a little more time to respond to.

I can tell you my favorite fics, though:

Matthew Tkachuk - Back To You because it's such a complete story. I love the way he and Jessie meet, lose each other, and then are thrown together by fate again. I also feel like I really captured that sassy side of Matthew's personality in this fic, which I was really worried about at the time I was writing it. This is also the story that I think would be easiest to flesh out into a full length novel.

Nico Hischier - I love all the parts of his story for different reasons, but I think It Doesn't Matter Part II is my favorite. I had actually written the whole sequence of nude sketches for another character, but ended up scrapping the whole story because I couldn't find any real conflict for them to resolve. When I realized I could use it for Nico and Lena if she was an artist, I was thrilled and got to work rewriting it for them. In the end, the only things that stayed the same were 5 of the 6 poses. Getting into and out of them changed, as did the characters relating to each other during them. I love all the longing and awkward tension between them in this piece, as well as how they finally end up confessing their love for each other. Finally, the culmination of all of their longing into the final sex scene? Chefs kiss.

Quinn Hughes - This one is so hard. I've written so much about Quinn and Sarah and I love all of the pieces for one reason or another. If I had to pick three favorites, they would be:

1). Five Days of Joy because I'm so proud of this fic. It took SO long to write, but I love the way it turned out. I love that we go through so many consecutive days and such a gamut of emotions with Sarah and Quinn.

2). The Second Time is Better because I love the portrayal of a more real first time. One of the things that drives me batty about romance novels is how the characters get together and always seem to have this instantly amazing sexual connection. No room for human failing or first time jitters. In reality, it takes time to build sexual chemistry and connection, and I went into this piece wanting to show at least some of that.

and 3). Second Nature because I think it has the prettiest prose. I still think this passage is some of the best writing I've ever done:

This was ultimate flirting in Quinn’s book. Something he knew he could do. When someone wanted to talk about music, or art or classic cars, he was a fish out of water. But talking hockey? He could do that all day long. Convincing someone to like the sport he loved so much? There wasn't a more ideal situation. 

“Oh, good,” she said, leaning forward to kiss him. 

This was a perfect evening. Casual and comfortable. Cooking for someone he - liked, and kissing her whenever he wanted, taking no worry of who might be watching. 

Letting himself get swept up in the kiss, he slid his hands over her hips and tried to commit her scent to memory. No matter what happened - though he was pretty sure nothing bad was ever going to happen with Sarah - he wanted to remember this. She smelled like a dream he’d had as a boy. Like vanilla and warm skin and fireside, summer nights. It was an outlandish notion, but he couldn’t shake it. 

All her life, Sarah had read stories about star-crossed, fated lovers thrown together by chance and circumstance and serendipity. But those were all just stories. Even when her grandpa talked about meeting her grandma - like they were always meant to be together, and just had to find each other to make it happen - it seemed like folklore. A tall tale he spun to make their love story seem more epic. 

After writing all this out, I realized perhaps you meant favorite writing from other authors. Let me know if that's something you'd like me to answer.

[oshinohoshi]

Oshi no Ko chapter 166 thoughts - the end of all things

So uh... the only positive thing I can say here besides the beautiful Ai art is that I felt sad reading the page where Miyako was hugging Ruby. Everything else left me completely empty

This chapter is either:

A) A self-aware ending meant to show that life is suffering and the idol industry will suck out your soul if you let it

B) Outsourced to someone who skimmed OnK for 30 seconds on Wikipedia before putting pen to paper

It has to be A, right? You can't tell me that the same author wrote both of these pages without the right being ironic

But I don't think so because big brained Akane is the one clumsily narrating this crappy montage masquerading as a real ending

Aqua died for nothing. His sister is now a soulless cog in the idol machine

Ruby is mimicking Ai's speech - "Lies are an outstanding kind of love... We pile on the lies and no matter how hard things get, we sing and act happy onstage. It's a fun job!" But she forgot the rest of it: "Only, I'd like the 'being happy' part to be real. Nobody notices, but we have hearts and lives of our own. Happiness as a mother. Happiness as an idol. Normally you'd have to pick one, but I want both. Ai Hoshino is a greedy girl"

Ai wasn't only a misunderstood girl who worked hard to please her fans. That was a big part of her story but she also broke the rules to create her own family, her own happiness

Ruby, on the other hand, seems to have no real desires anymore, she's just following a path she believes her mother and Aqua paved for her. Never mind that Aqua only wanted it in the end because she wanted it and Ai just wanted her kids to be happy

You can tell that Akasaka is patting himself on the back for making a cyclical narrative where Ruby becomes Ai 2.0 by being commodified, scrutinized, and idolized like Ai was

But it's such a flimsy parallel when it comes to the theme of lies because lying to hide your grief =/= "lies are love" which was the only way Ai knew how to frame her genuine desire to love

And Ai's "I love you" to her kids was true whereas Ruby has swallowed her own lie that being an idol is fun even when you're just doing it to outrun your pain

What this chapter showed us is that the meaning of Ruby's life is to be Ruby of B Komachi and she was put on Earth to sing pop songs. Because that's what Ai did, right? If I remember correctly, her final words were "I'm so glad I got to be an idol #blessed"

My God was the Dome concert soulless. Miyako and Ichigo crying happy tears is a punch to the gut. Doesn't Miyako know her daughter is still hurting?

The last scene is so fucking depressing

Ruby, are you okay? Blink twice if you still remember your life outside the idol industry!

The last two pages work really well as horror. She has a brilliant smile but you can tell that she's dead inside. She's got more merch on her table than photos. Why doesn't she have a corkboard of family photos? Although I more or less have this Ai plushie and it's pretty cute so I'll give this a pass because it's hilarious

I guess the takeaway here is to live for others and life is painful so just grin and bear it. Oh yeah, and inspire other young women to join an industry where they get to act happy and lose their humanity. Cool

I mean I get that it's supposed to be about moving on with your life even while grieving and that's a good message, sure, but Aka's insistence on using the word "lies" multiple times as if saying it makes it make sense ruins the whole thing

The most insane part is that this chapter is a wholehearted endorsement of the lies sold by the entertainment/idol industry

I haven't even said anything about anyone besides Ruby because what's the point? Aka didn't have time to do justice to any of the characters I grew to love

It's clear something went wrong with the timeline of wrapping up OnK. No artist wants to execute a final chapter like this. I'm convinced the film reel edges are Aka and Mengo's way of telling the reader, "we know this is a shitty clips show so don't @ us on Twitter about it"

But it's so much worse than that. Aka really decided to tear to shreds everything he worked so hard on for 4 years. Damn

This is my favorite manga and I'll always love that it gave me Ai, my most beloved character of all time, but this leaves an extremely bitter aftertaste. It's really hard to believe that the same person who wrote vol 1 wrote this.

OnK has been pretty important to me. Reading weekly, chatting with fans, and reaching dangerous levels of Ai brain rot has actually been a helpful distraction. TBH I've been a little too invested in it but sometimes you need escapism. So it's crazy that I'm kind of glad it's over.

But this is why fanfic, fanart, and your own headcanons exist. In another universe, this manga wrapped up beautifully and I was depressed for weeks because I couldn't look forward to it anymore. In this universe, at least we're all suffering together here at the end of all things.

And at least the little Hoshino family is still adorable. Too bad Ai is dead, Aqua is dead, and Ruby desperately needs grief counseling. But NEVER MIND. Look at Ai's smile and the twins' faces. This was the Oshi no Ko I really loved.

[radioactive-dazey]

Tags by @b3nnyrabb1t (why is ur blog not coming up oml)

I'm sorry I'm CACKLING at these tags man 😭 I started this series because I noticed almost every roceit fic had the same general plot (which is fine bc it's for the same characters and in the same universe, for the most part plots are gonna hit the same beat, sometimes in a different order or with new melodies)

But it always struck me as funny, and even funnier when I started noticing it with other ships. Pls note this is not at all a critique of anyone's writing in particular, just meant to be a general silly comparison and is in NO WAY meant to discourage anyone if their fic follows these plots. They're common in fanfiction bc they WORK (and half the time I'm talking out of my ass, or it's just something I came up with while talking to @amateurmasksmith )

Anyway, I'm glad this resonated something within you 😭😂 I'm happy to have converted you /j /not serious

Overgeneralizing Sanders Sides Fanfiction: PT. 5, Analogical edition.

Logan: Salutations, Virgil. What may be distressing you?

Virgil, actively having an anxiety attack over lunch plans: distress? I'm not distressed. Your face is distressed. *whispering* got him.

Logan: ... Alright. Would you like a distraction?

Virgil: oh my god yes please.

Logan: take a deep breath for me, alright? Now *begins rambling about Doctor Who and which doctor was his favorite and why*

Virgil: ...

Logan: Are you okay?

Virgil: I'm horribly impressed with how much of a nerd you are.

Logan: oh. Thank you. I think.

Virgil: so um. Who's your second favorite doctor.

Virgil, internally: Jesus christ this is weirdly endearing calm the fuck down Virgil he's just a man with autism. Get a grip.

Logan, internally: Wow he really likes hearing about Doctor Who.

Meanwhile, in the Canon:

Logan, leaning against the stairs, trying to appear nonchalant: ... Say Virgil-

Virgil: Yes, I'll make you another puzzle for Christmas.

Logan, barely hiding his glee: satisfactory, thank you.

[redvexillum]

Hey there my sweetest, beloved Vexi ♡

I just wanted to share something personal with you that you can then share with others because I know that they feel the same.

Writing has always been my passion. It's been the one thing that has kept me afloat in my life. Regardless of whether people love my writing or hate it, I would continue for the sake of continuing because it is my life.

But when I rejoined fandom spaces, I was terrified after hearing stories of how the culture had changed significantly. Interaction is lower, and hate has unfortunately always made its home in these communities. Given I share fanfiction solely to share with the aforementioned communities, I found myself afraid that I would get hate messages. I was afraid I wouldn't have a community that would stand up for me if that were to happen. While it would never deter me from what I love, I was scared that friendships and positivity were long dead in this space. Fandom felt lonely.

You know what though? I have met wonderful person after wonderful person. And then I met you too. There you are, getting some of the most horrendous messages I've ever seen sent to another human being, and you continue to push for positivity - smiling and laughing with us about how much you just want to see people happy.

Then you went on to start share some of the wonderful messages you recieved throughout that ordeal, only to begin writing positive affirmations and thoughts for us. Once upon a time, I struggled to accept this sort of positivity, I will admit that. When I was having a rough time, I would often see messages like that as 'hollow' for a lack of better words. I would be angry or bitter that others could think like that when I struggled so much to feel like those words should have meant something to me.

While time has passed since I was that person, I still remember the feeling of hopelessness, yet that doesn't deter from the fact that people like you - and countless others - single handedly restored my faith in these communities.

People like you remind me why I cling to my ideals of treating everyone with kindness no matter what. To try to understand other people. To help others. These are all things that bring us closer together. People like you, @silva-daemonium, @fraugwinska, @macabr3-barbi3, @chrisemrysfics, @melodyonthewireless, @dewdropdinosaur, @xalygatorx, @kewpikayo, @jurijyuu, @jalicecookie, AND SO MANY MORE do so much to support those around you.

All of this came about because I wanted to say thank you for posting those short little messages of encouragment. I know that I have appreciated them. Sure, they might seem a little cheesy to me on a morning when I'm tired - but they really make me smile, and prepare me to tackle whatever the day gives.

You're the beating heart of positivity.

It's a fairytale ending to the horror stories I expected.

I know that other people will see this too, so I just wanted to wish everyone that sees this a relaxing morning, afternoon, evening - timezone in general! You're here, and you've worked hard to be here all this time. Everything you've needed to do to achieve that, you've done. That's huge. I'm so proud of everyone, and my DMs are always open to anyone who might be struggling or just wants to talk. I'll always aim to help my community in the same way that Vexi has demonstrated.

Love to you all, and again, thank you for your messages, Vexi!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Cirice, I honestly don’t have the words to fully capture how much your kindness means to me. You are truly one of the most thoughtful, beautiful souls I’ve ever had the honor to meet, and I can’t thank you enough for your words. Knowing that something I’ve done has made even a small impact on people like you is still so surreal to me. I’m just deeply grateful that you’re part of this community.

You and so many others are the reason why I’ve stayed here longer than in any other fandom. It’s been the most heartwarming experience. This community, especially people like you, has genuinely transformed my perspective on what fandoms can be: a space filled with compassion, creativity, and connection.

Thank you for sharing your story, for giving me (and others) a piece of your heart. I hope your words reach others, inspiring them to create, to feel they belong, and to understand how wonderful it is to be part of something like this. Knowing we’re all here together, finding meaning in these connections, it makes the world feel a little less lonely and a lot brighter. 💖

Also tagging the people that didn't get properly tagged because tumblr is broken: @dewdropdinosaur @xalygatorx @kewpikayo @jurijyuu @jailcecookie

[walmartbrandwhatever]

There’s this one jump that Marcia can’t get right, so she works herself to the bone trying to perfect it, and every time she falls she just hears trips voice in her ear telling her that it isn’t good enough. Two bit coming to pick her up for dinner but her telling him that she can’t stop practicing, and when he tries to convince her to go with him she just yells at him- they stand there for a moment then she breaks down crying in this arms. I’m going insane.

Her falling back into the same cycle will always make me so sick. Her just not being able to land this jump. She's just utterly exhausted at that point, she hasn't eaten and she's just mentally beating herself up. OMG Imagine like this causes her to first telling him about trip and how he would yell at her and hes just utterly horrified.

Note: I was cooking so hard this turned into a small drabble so I apologize that it took me so long to answer.

Note: another thing tumblr kept deleting my work so I had to take a step back bc I got upset 😔

By the time Two-Bit enters the rink, he sees Marcia attempt some jump he couldn't remember the name of and fall. He watches her for a second, and the clear frustration is written all over her face as she smacks the ice next to her before pushing herself up and preparing to try it again. He glances around the rink, there was no one other person there than her. Making his way to the entrance of the rink, he called out to her to make sure she at least knows he's there and ended up with no response.

With a sigh, he stops at the opening of the rink and watches her try the jump again and fail it again. He knows she's too exhausted to even do the jump right. He calls out to her again, and thankfully, this time, she turns to him, her face scrunched up as her chest rises and falls far too fast. "C'mon Mar, you ain't goin' to get that jump right. Not tonight. Plus you promised me a dinner doll. " A soft smile rested on his face, and he slowly fell the second he realized that she wasn't even planning on leaving any time soon.

"I can't. I'm sorry Two, I can't get this jump, and I need to perfect it. Maybe another time."

She offers him a half ass attempt of a smile before turning and preparing to try the jump again. "You're never going to get it, Mar, not today, at least. Look, I know you want to get it, but you're exhausted, and I bet you haven't paused to eat anything. Just-"

"You don't know shit Keith." She snapped, turning towards him again. He has never heard Marcia yell, let alone at him, so it catches him by complete surprise.

"You what? Know the basics? You don't get it, and you never will. You'll just know You'll never be good enough no matter where you go!" They both just stand there for a moment staring at each other. Two-bit knows that her anger is directed towards herself. He could see the millions of voices screaming at her, telling her the exact words she just told him. For a moment, she reminded him of Darry. God knows how much that boy works himself into the ground. There was one time after a long practice where Two had tried to get Darry to take a break. Darry had turned and yelled at him. At first, Two-bit was hurt, but standing their wide-eyed, he had seen the pain and anger Darry had, and now here he was standing and looking at Marcia, who held the same look in her eye. Well the anger long gone, just replaced by guilt.

She looked like a ghost when the words she said must’ve hit her because her face drops and she looks just about ready to cry. "Shit, I'm sorry - I," she pushes herself over towards him, guilt written all over her. He took a second to gather his thoughts. He knew she didn't mean it. More than likely, she meant it towards herself.

He gave her a small squeeze before attempting to pull away. He stopped the second he heard a small sob. His eyebrows furrowed,

" it's alright, ain't the first time i've been yelled at. Look, I know you're upset, but let's just take a second to breathe. " he took a deep breath and let it out. She followed his actions, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. "There we go. Are you good now?" He watched as she fought back the tears that rolled down her face. Panic quickly filled his body. He hadn’t meant to make her cry. "Hey, hey-hey, whoa, it's alright," he stepped forward, pulling her into a hug.

She wrapped her arms around him tightly, just sobbing into his chest. The genuine pain in her sobs made his heart squeeze because all he wanted was to take all her pain away. He wasn't sure what had gotten her so shook up. The genuine look of fear on her face caught him off guard.

They had stood there for a while, him gently rubbing her back as she cried. Once she seemed to calm down for the most part, he pulled back a bit, just enough to see her face. "Mar hey c'mon talk to me, what's wrong?" She wasn't looking at him. It was the first thing he noticed. Her eyes just burned holes at his chest and her mouth opening and closing a few times before she spoke up. "I'm sorry for yelling at you- God you didn't deserve that.."

"Hey, it's alright, I forgive you. Truly, it happens to the best of us, " his eyes darting around her face, looking for any hints that would tell him what was wrong. "You don't have to tell me what's wrong, but it might help."

That's when she told him about her old partner. At some point, they had sat down as she spoke. Told him about how when things got real stressful, most practices were just her getting screamed at. Yelled at about something that she had done wrong. She then started apologizing and explaining how she could just hear him screaming and the frustration building like it had back then.

It horrified him. Hearing her not only talk about some guy berating her but also berating herself. He gently grabbed her hand and just stared at her for a moment. Marcia took a heavy breath before looking over at him. "Marcia, you never deserved that." Her eyes searched his face, probably trying to find any deceit. "But only if-"

"No, buts. You didn't deserve that point blank no matter how much stress he might’ve been through." Most people think he couldn't be serious, mostly since he's always joking around even in most serious moments, but he can, and in this very moment, he was showing that. He knew Marcia wouldn't believe him, maybe not for a while, but he needed her to know that she didn't deserve getting yelled at. "You swear?"

"I promise. Now how about that dinner?"

She smiled softly, standing up from where she was sitting. For a moment, he thought she was just gonna throw herself back onto the rink, but she headed towards her bag. "Yeah, yeah, just let me pack up"

Watching her unlace her skates and place them onto the bench, he knew that it would all work out. That one day they'd be living life good hand in hand.

[barbs111claims]

Hi

So 2 years ago I wanted to kill myself but then I had a huge “spiritual awakening” where I say things beyond human comprehension. And from that moment I decided to give life a chance, I knew that life actually had a meaning and that was for me to discover what was beyond what I could think. It gave my so much clarity of the world around me and who I was. From that moment I also started to randomly consciously manifest things without knowing about manifesting. I’m not kidding when I say this but in that time I manifested 6 million overnight while I was just kidding about being a millionaire while listening to my rich music and then when I woke up my parents had the good news. I also manifested others things that I thought where extremely special. But I didn’t really put in effort it was just fun experimenting with my powers.

So then I decided to deepen myself in the laws. I started with law of attraction. And I ended up meditating so deeply everyday that I was so passionate about finding the ultimate truth of reality inside me, that I was extremely depersonalised from my 3D and basically lived inside my brain. I could ask things and receive answers on my questions, like the one time i asked how to invent something that could end humanity ( I still have a full doc on how to build to most effective machine that could end humanity in less than second) I also got the answer of questions about reality and my vessel. So that’s when I realised there was nothing but me. And that I was experiencing myself from the experience of myself ( if that makes sense!) I found that there really was nothing and everything at once while I was giving meaning to it. So that’s when I started with extreme anxiety and depression because I struggled so much with intrusive thoughts, not being able to ground myself in this reality and being so so scared of my thoughts. Still to this day my thoughts scare me so much that I can’t help but experience anything other than fear from myself. It’s like I’m living in a constant nightmare. I have watched so much law of assumption post and videos dedicating every second of my day on being focused and disciplined to affirming and being in the state of having what I want, but it makes me so fuckiyn angry and I don’t know why. Everytime I see a post I feel depressed because deep down I know everything but everyday I wake up in the same reality where everything fucking sucks ( I have been forcing myself to be kind self love gratitude letting go void state visualisation whatever exist I’ve done it all) and when I finally have build up that trust that everything is working out in my highest favour and I always get what I want and the 3D can’t tell me nothing yk I can delude myself into knowing I have it but it’s been over a year and I just can’t bear this reality anymore I know I’m meant for another reality and there’s just nothing for me to find here anymore. And I really don’t know what to do anymore I feel like I’m stuck in this reality where everything seems to get worse. And my thoughts are also getting worded everyday for the last year but whenever I tried manifesting a better self concept mindset etc it got worse when i don’t even want to be the person that is in conflict with themsef because that’s just a idiotic thing to do. But can you help me out?🫶

wow. Thanks for sharing your struggles I'm sure it wasn't easy.

I really want to say that we all ARE Master Manifestors. Either consciously or unconsciously. It is amazing how you found your powers earlier but also I want you to understand that there is nothing to be afraid of because "Good or bad" doesn't exist to I AM. They are just Human made concepts.

I AM is I AM.

It is being. It is the vessel that comprehends, desires and thru I AM, it gets what it want.

I would suggest you to go back meditating and just focus on the day, your thoughts and journal them and do some introspection.

Every time you have a negative thought, observe them and ask why you have that. Is it the vessel's fear or your fear? (short ans: It's your vessel's)

So as we know the creation is already done. I AM exists anywhere, It is our decision to choose what we want. I know having that power might go good or cause anxiety but the truth is that it is so freeing.

Think of the times when you manifested and the fulfilment. Feel that feeling again.

Free yourself, you aren't gonna 'manifest' anything bad to yourself truly because you are the god of your reality and god doesn't worry for being a god.

And if you still have worries, Loa is basically Law of assumptions so just assume that every time a negative thought pops, your new story manifest quicker. BE CRAZY. It's your reality<3

(btw your thoughts or your mindset getting worse are just affirmations, you can ditch the old story any moment now)

[ghosts-of-love]

wish there was a Horrible Histories-esque show but for like. nature stuff

[youremyonlyhope]

Wow, Eloise is so ahead of her time that she's reading Emma at least 6 months before it was even published.

[aceghosts]

Rooney Shepard (They/Them): RELIC AU

There are stranger things I've learned on the outside Separated by an open door I find it hard to reach the end of my timeline Salivating 'cause I wanted more Is this the end or is this the beginning? -Too Close/Too Late by Spiritbox

[Template Credit]

Tagging (Opt In/Out): @bbrocklesnar, @marivenah, @alexxmason, @captmactavish, @carlosoliveiraa, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @nightbloodbix, @voidika, @strangefable, @captastra, @amalkavian, @katsigian, @cassietrn, @g0dspeeed, @clicheantagonist, @cloudofbutterflies92, @direwombat, @onehornedbeast, @thedeadthree.

[flecks-of-stardust]

wholeheartedly and with as much gentleness as possible, i truly think there needs to be more discussion about downpour in the community as it is now. for a variety of reasons.

[itty-bitty-sunshine]

I know this is random but reading your blog and seeing your art made me so motivated I made my 1st animation ever (not counting pixel art ones), after not drawing digitally in months and it looks kinda basic and it isn't colored but I made it and I'm really happy with it so I guess what I'm trying to say is thank you for motivating me to make digital art again! I hope you have a wonderful day/night :)

MKJSJWJW HI!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR TELLING ME THATS GREAT!!! Animatics need time and patience so the fact you went straight for it is so cool!!!! I bet it looks lovely!

Hope you have the greatest day/night too!