#but I do think the post is kind of hollow because the question kind of left me stumped

[shiraishi--kanade]

Can you explain your thought process about liking An?? Or is that like an opposites attract thing for you? /gen /not neg

This is such an interesting question but thank god for the tone indicators because for a moment there I thought I was genuinely being attacked for liking An Shiraishi. Sorry I'm going to An Shiraishi jail /j

On a more serious note... I guess I kind of just do like her. I think her writing is decently good if massively underappreciated - she's not a masterpiece of a character as I'd consider some other PJSK guys to be (namely Ena, Mafuyu, Emu and Rui) and the writers tripped over their own leg more than once with her with some arcs still being... In a kind of limbo with her now, but she has decent depth to her. An tackles the topics of insecurity in her own skills and also berates herself for feeling a certain way, very consistently, she is often self-deprecating and has her self-esteem knocked down more and more as the plot goes on - it's fun to watch her show all of this while also being by every outsider's admission one of the most lively, determined, easy-going, friendly and competent characters.

What goes on inside An's head and what she actually shows outwardly are often completely different things, and she is reserved and and secretive in some circumstances while also being open and communicative in others - it's just... Fascinating, combined with all the issues above. And we know that in most cases it's not even about necessarily being secretively by nature, An is just absolutely the kind of person to put off resolving the problem until she literally can't anymore. Which isn't a unique thing in pjsk, and there are many more characters that like just putting the whole thing aside for the moment because they don't want to deal with Feelings and Vulnerability (from the top of my head: Rui, Mizuki, Touya, partially Saki?) or are just so convicted they can't change anything by opening up to people anyway so they don't (Emu, early Honami ig?), but it takes an An Shiraishi to know her only way forward lied into confronting her feelings & the reason behind them & openly acknowledge that and then actively avoid doing so, for months, because she was scared, while also hating on herself for being scared. And I think that's like. Really cool because of the Anhane role reversal. Like you would never expect to see An in that position when you read main story of early vbs events. How interesting is that?

There's also themes community & family & trust & rivalry & loneliness and isolation with her; just like... A lot. Most of it isn't shown directly, but she is a lot.

An is a character best seen in the contrast with other and she really shines with VBS to be honest. I don't think you can tear An away from her backstory and relationships with people in her life and still have a solid character because she is defined by her life circumstances, which is right up my alley of "oooh I'm gonna blorbo this guy badly".

Tl;dr:

I just like her writing tbh. She's fun to toss around, but it's also definitely contributed by Jiena's voice acting and her generally nice design. I wouldn't like her as much if not both of these factors.

As for the opposites attract: I do generally tend to like extremely skilled characters that struggle with finding someone at their level regardless of if they share that genki girl personality, so I don't think it's that. I really like shounen guys. Can you tell.

That said if An Shiraishi was real I'd Not want to be near her lol. I'm an extreme introvert that generally doesn't like interacting with people and I feel like her presence alone would be overwhelming.

[flwrkid14]

Tim and Jason: Caught Between Healing and Fear

note: completely inspired by this amazing post! tysm to @timdrakewhump for letting me use it as inspo!! <33

Tim doesn��t flinch around Jason. Not exactly. It’s more of a stiffening, a tightening of his shoulders, a flicker in his eyes that he knows Jason catches. He hates it. Everyone else has moved on. Dick forgave. Bruce rebuilt. Even Damian, with all his sharp edges, has softened into something survivable. But Tim? He still expects a hit that doesn’t come, still hears the echo of fists in the dark.

And that? That’s on him, right? It has to be. Because if everyone else can move on, why can’t he?

They don’t talk about it. Not directly. The bats have always been good at side-stepping, at smoothing over the cracks with enough shared history to pretend the damage never happened. They act like everything’s fixed, like Jason is something fragile they have to keep close, hold together. They ignore the way Tim’s shoulders tense when Jason’s voice gets too loud, the way his hands shake when shadows fall just right. They brush off his excuses to leave the room or, worse, look at him like he’s the problem.

“Jason’s trying, Tim.” “He’s better now.” “Don’t hold onto the past.”

But Tim isn’t holding on. He’s bracing.

Every patrol with Jason is a test. Every sparring match, a gamble. Jason keeps it light—punches pulled, jabs softened with crooked smiles—but Tim knows what Jason’s hands are capable of. He remembers the brutality, the raw fury that doesn’t vanish just because it’s been filed down to something more manageable. He knows Jason’s trying. He knows Jason’s better. But there’s a thin line between better and safe, and Tim’s still learning how to balance on it.

When Jason starts spending more time at the manor, no one questions it. They welcome him with open arms, eager to fill the empty spaces his absence left. He’s part of the family, they say. He needs support, they insist. So Jason sits at the dinner table, helps out on patrol, lounges on the couch like he’s always belonged there. And Tim... Tim watches from the corner of the room, a shadow on the periphery, pretending he doesn’t notice the way everyone else orbits around Jason like he’s the sun.

They send Tim on solo missions now—so Jason can have space. They say it like it’s a good thing, like they’re doing Tim a favor. More responsibility, more autonomy. He should be grateful. And he is. Or he would be, if it didn’t feel like being exiled. The irony isn’t lost on him. They don’t want Jason to be alone, so Tim has to be.

The apartment is quieter than the manor, the kind of quiet that presses in too close. No hum of the Cave, no distant footsteps of someone always nearby. It’s fine. He’s used to it. He tells himself that every night, like a mantra. He likes the solitude. It’s familiar, comforting in a way that makes his chest ache. But sometimes, when the silence stretches too thin, he thinks about calling. Jason always picks up now. He’d probably offer to come over, bridge the gap that Tim never asked to be there.

But what would Tim say? Sorry I still see the blood on your knuckles? Sorry I can’t forget how it felt to be the replacement? Sorry you came back, and I thought it would fix things, but it didn’t?

He doesn’t call.

They’re terrified of losing Jason again. They hold him close, desperate, like he might slip through their fingers if they let go for even a second. Tim understands that. He really does. He remembers the hollow ache that filled the manor after Jason died, the way grief settled into the walls like a permanent stain. No one wants to go through that again. They’d do anything to keep Jason safe, to keep him here.

But no one asks what Tim gave up. What he’s still giving up.

Jason is here, but Tim feels like he’s the ghost.

Sometimes, when they’re all gathered together—Bruce at the head of the table, Dick and Steph cracking jokes, Duke helping himself to another slice of pie—Tim looks around and wonders if anyone would notice if he slipped away. Just stood up, walked out, and didn’t come back. Would they miss him? Or would they be too busy watching Jason, making sure he doesn’t disappear again?

He catches Jason watching him sometimes, eyes sharp and knowing. Jason’s not stupid. He sees the cracks. Tim wonders if he feels guilty, or if he’s just waiting for Tim to say something, to break the silence that’s grown too thick between them. But Tim won’t. He can’t. The words stick in his throat, heavy and bitter.

So he stays quiet. He goes on solo missions, patrols alone, comes back to an empty apartment that feels less like home every day. And he tells himself it’s enough.

Because it has to be.

[yandere-romanticaa]

Recently, the surge of AI has caught everyone's attention and I've been working on this little experiment.

Down below the cut are two fics and this is how I planned it - one was made up by using AI (more specifically, Chat Gpt) while the other one was written by yours truly. Below both fics will be a poll and I would like for you, my dear readers, to guess which one was AI. Personally, I don't think it'll be a difficult challenge but seeing your reactions and comments on this should prove to be an interesting endeavor.

This was posted on April 17th. And, in 7 days, I shall reveal which fic was written by me, and which one was done by AI.

Now then, let's get on with the show.

🥀 Story One.

In the dimly lit alleyways of Yokohama, Fyodor Dostoevsky stalks his obsession, (y/n), with unwavering determination. His fixation transcends reason, driving him to extreme lengths to possess (y/n)'s affection.

Fyodor's obsession with (y/n) began innocently enough, a mere curiosity sparked by their untapped potential and innocence. But as time passed, that curiosity twisted into an all-consuming desire, festering within Fyodor's mind like a venomous serpent.

Each night, Fyodor would follow (y/n) from a distance, his heart pounding with anticipation and longing. He would watch as (y/n) laughed with their friends, oblivious to the dark presence lurking in the shadows.

But Fyodor's love was not the gentle, nurturing kind. It was possessive, suffocating, and dangerously obsessive. He couldn't bear the thought of (y/n) belonging to anyone but him, couldn't stand the idea of anyone else basking in the warmth of (y/n)'s smile.

As his obsession deepened, Fyodor's mind became consumed with dark fantasies of possessing (y/n) completely. He would spend hours meticulously planning every detail of their future together, envisioning a life where they were inseparable.

But fantasies were not enough for Fyodor. He needed to make them a reality, no matter the cost. And so, he began to weave a web of deception and manipulation, carefully orchestrating events to bring (y/n) closer to him and drive away anyone who dared to stand in their way.

But as Fyodor's plans grew more elaborate, so too did the danger. (y/n)'s friends grew suspicious of Fyodor's intentions, sensing something sinister lurking beneath his charming facade. And as they delved deeper into Fyodor's past, they uncovered secrets that threatened to unravel his carefully constructed world.

But Fyodor was not about to let anyone come between him and his beloved. He would do whatever it took to protect their love, even if it meant resorting to violence.

🥀 Story Two.

Shimmering waves of starlight engulfed the man in white as he monitored his target from a safe distance, hollow purple eyes gleaming with excitement. He could feel his long fingers twitching with anticipation in his warm pockets, a stark contrast to the chilly wind on this fine spring evening.

He needed to be patient. Because patience was indeed, a virtue.

And Fyodor was a virtuous man. Perhaps not a good one, but he would gladly take the title of virtue.

Would you bestow upon him such a title? Would you do so, if you ever found out that he had taken such a keen interest in you? The rational part in his mind said no, of course not. Unlike him, you were blessed with normalcy. There was nothing extraordinary about you - no ability, no wealth, no status.

Nothing.

You could have been squished like a bug beneath his heel and the world would just keep on going as it always would. Sure, there would be some individuals who would miss you dearly but even they would move on at some point.

Such was the nature of humanity. How cruel, he thought to himself.

Fortunately for you, Fyodor was no ordinary man. Despite his predicament, he had grown fond of you. He was not sure why but after a while, he stopped asking such trifling questions as to why he troubled himself by giving you so much attention.

It was pointless to make sense of the senseless.

Right here, right now, all he wanted was to enjoy this quiet evening by his lonesome, as he tailed behind you like a creeping shadow. He would reveal himself to you properly when the time was right, when he felt you were strong enough to take him.

Fyodor just needed to wait a little bit longer, just long enough to see how he should proceed with you in case things went south.

In the meantime, he would gladly spend every waking moment simply watching you for his own personal pleasure.

🥀 TAGS: @yanroma, @oneoftheprettynerds, @misdollface, @sxy0ung, @rosemary108233, @c4xcocoa, @gettinshiggywithit, @ophticcus, @lakxcpsta, @ranposgirlboss, @robinaxolotl, @acornwinter, @enoojnij, @ishqani, @osachiyo, @bluepeanutharmony, @kaithegremlin, @fyodorscockslut, @wcayaw, @luna-mariko-akatsuki, @lovelyyz, @queenofspades403

APRIL 24TH - Story One is AI.

[scarletwinterxx]

not dating huh? - xu minghao imagine

let me start this fic of by saying CONGRATTTTSSS TO SVT🥺🥺🥺 gosh i'm so so so proud of them, they deserve all those awards and all the recognition. ahhh i'm just so happy for them😭🥺🤍

i have a few more scenarios lined up, i was working on some of them while I was gone so expect a few more to be posted on the following days🤭 oh also... i'm seeing svt on january 😱😭 anywaysss that's all i hope u enjoy this one!

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You’re standing in the middle of the café, a half-empty cup of coffee in front of you, stirring absentmindedly as you glance around the room. It’s one of those quiet afternoons, the kind where people come to catch up or work, the hum of quiet chatter filling the air. You're talking to Minghao, and for the hundredth time, he’s insisting that you two are not dating.

“I told you, I’m not your boyfriend,” Minghao repeats, leaning back in his chair, his fingers tracing the rim of his own coffee cup. His eyes are playful, but there's a hint of something softer beneath that mischievous glint, something you’ve come to recognize and ignore... for now.

You raise an eyebrow at him, trying to keep the amused smile on your face from turning into something else. 

You've heard this a lot from Minghao recently. It's the constant not dating mantra, but every time he says it, he’s practically glued to your side. You don’t think anyone else believes him, either, but no one dares to ask.

“Okay, then,” you say, your voice deliberately casual. “So, you’re not my boyfriend, but you’re still following me around everywhere?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, though his lips twitch into a smile. “That’s just because I enjoy your company. Not the same as being a boyfriend, right?”

You can't help but laugh. You don’t even try to hide it this time. Minghao’s insistence is almost ridiculous, especially when he practically becomes your shadow. The two of you do everything together—grab lunch, watch movies, wander through bookstores, share inside jokes no one else gets—and yet, every time you bring it up, he acts like you’re being dramatic.

You lean forward, lowering your voice in a teasing tone. “So, if you’re not my boyfriend, then what exactly are we doing here? Just two people who happen to be spending all their time together?”

He’s quiet for a moment, staring at you. Then, his expression softens, like he’s considering something. 

“We’re… friends,” he says, but the word sounds strangely hollow coming from him.

You roll your eyes. The word friend doesn’t even come close to covering what you two are. But you don’t push it. 

Not yet, anyway.

“Well,” you say, sitting back in your chair and crossing your arms, “I guess I can’t argue with that. But, I’m not gonna lie, it’s a little weird, don’t you think?”

Minghao raises an eyebrow, his voice laced with humor. “Weird how?”

You take a slow, deliberate sip of your coffee, letting the silence stretch for a moment, before you lean forward and say the words you know will make him react.

“Well, I mean, if we’re ‘just friends,’ then why do you always call me babe?”

He chokes on his coffee. You can’t help but grin at the sight, watching him scramble for a napkin as his face flushes. Minghao clears his throat, looking at you in mock offense.

“I do not call you babe.”

“Oh, really?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow. 

“What do you call me then, hmm?”

“I… I call you your name?” he says, though it sounds more like a question than a fact. 

“You’re you. I don’t—”

“You totally just said ‘babe’ last week,” you cut in, leaning closer to him with a smile. “So, don’t lie.”

He sighs in defeat, leaning back in his chair again. “Fine, I admit it. But that doesn’t mean we’re dating, okay?”

You can see the faint blush on his cheeks, and it only makes your teasing grow stronger. You decide to push a little more, just to see how far you can take this.

“Well, babe, let’s go,” you say, standing up suddenly, picking up your purse. “We’re leaving. This place is too boring anyway.”

You say it with a grin, making sure to emphasize the word ‘babe’ as you glance down at him, just waiting for his reaction. You’re fully expecting him to say something, to try to deny the whole situation again. But instead, Minghao doesn’t even hesitate. He just stands up, his eyes locking onto yours, and then, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world, he follows you toward the door without a word.

The bell above the café door jingles softly as you step outside, the cool air hitting your skin as you walk briskly down the street, Minghao right behind you. 

You can feel his presence there, just a few steps behind you, and you wonder if he’s as calm as he appears, or if he’s just trying not to make this more complicated than it already is.

“So,” you ask, breaking the silence. “Where are we going?”

He shrugs again, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. “I don’t know. You said we were leaving, so I’m just following you.”

You glance back at him, his easy smile lighting up his face. It’s hard to tell if he’s messing with you or being completely serious. Either way, you can’t stop the flutter in your chest. 

The dynamic between you two has always been strange, but there’s a certain comfort in it, something you’re not quite ready to let go of.

“Yeah, well, if we’re not dating,” you mutter under your breath, “you’re definitely acting like you are.”

Minghao’s laugh reaches your ears before he says, “I told you, we’re not. I’m just… following my favorite person around, okay?”

You stop in your tracks, turning to face him. His expression is as serious as it ever gets, and you can’t help but wonder if there’s more to this than he’s letting on. You’ve been friends for so long, and even with all the teasing and back-and-forth, you can’t deny that the connection between you two runs deeper than anything you’ve ever had with anyone else.

You look up at him, your eyes searching his face, trying to figure out if he’s playing with you or if there’s a hidden truth behind his words. After a beat, he looks at you with that same look he always gives you when he’s not sure how to say something: a quiet sincerity in his gaze that makes your heart skip a beat.

“I’m not dating you,” he repeats, but this time, his voice is softer. “But if I was, it would be a good thing, right?”

You smile, stepping closer to him. “Yeah,” you reply, your voice a little more tender than before. “It would be.”

And for the first time, you both stand there in that strange, unspoken space, where neither of you says anything else. But neither of you needs to. Because the truth is already there, unspoken, in the way Minghao watches you, in the way you both keep walking forward together.

Not dating, huh? You both know better.

[crybabyddl]

Balcony Cigarettes

Eddie Munson x Reader

Warning: swearing, miscommunication/cluelessness, friends to lovers, kissing, smoking

Author’s Note: I’m at work and this popped into my head. I wish I had a whole story behind this, but I don’t. I was just thinking about the sunsets at the college I went to, and how it would’ve been cool to smoke there. Now I’m here, writing a random thing and making it about a fictional character that I’m in love with. Second Note: I'm home now and really want to publish this, so I'm forcing myself to finish it one way or another. I apologize if that makes it end up sucking, but I just need to get this finished or else it will sit in my drafts for eternity. I'm considering just posting what I have in my drafts even if they're unfinished because I have like, 80 drafts and I think at least 70 of them are actual pieces of writing and I feel selfish holding onto them bc some of them are not too bad. Most of them are from 2021, but that was when I was writing like a fiend and had a bunch of motivation, so they might not be terrible, probably a tad cringey though.

—

God, what you wouldn’t do to be smoking a cigarette right now…

Almost as if the universe heard you, the sliding door of the balcony swishes and shuts. Without needing to look, you know it’s Eddie—the sound of heavy bootsteps tipping you off.

“Mind if I join you?” He asks softly, just shy of mumbling. He mirrors you as he rests his elbows along the railing.

“Not at all,” you keep your head forward, too entranced by the flow of cars passing by on the streets below. “By any chance, do you have a pack of ciggies on you?”

Eddie can’t help but laugh.

“What kind of question is that?” His tone is lighthearted, but not energetic enough to disrupt the mood. It was a stupid question, Eddie was rarely ever seen without a cigarette between his lips.

He fishes a half-used box of Newports and a lighter out of his pocket. You turn to watch as he pulls two cigarettes out of the pack, putting both between his lips. You feel the corners of your mouth turn upwards as he brings the lighter closer, igniting your vices before handing one to you. You take the cigarette from between his index and middle fingers.

From the first inhale, you can feel the menthol working its magic. It wasn’t something you did often—smoking. You knew it was a nasty habit, but you figured if this was the worst thing you did tonight, you’d be okay with that.

“Do you ever miss Shores Hollow?” Eddie poses the question casually, but it still causes the nervous pit in your stomach to sink like a stone.

“All the time. Don’t get me wrong, I love it here,” you take another drag. “But nothing compares to those sunsets.”

It’s silent between the two of you as you finish your cigarettes, getting lost in the swirls of smoke that float around you. The logical part of your brain blames the cigarette for the uneasy feeling that starts to reside in your stomach and leaves pitter-pattering knocks on your temples, but the sentimental part of you wins and blames it on the man keeping you company.

You dare to look over at the culprit of your mixed feelings, his eyes fixated on the cloudy night sky. You want to say something, you want him to say something, but no words seem to fit in this moment. It’s like torture—having the one thing, the one person you want the most right in front of you, in addition to the weighted memories that come along for the ride, but it’s all just out of your grasp.

Your lips part, no ammunition loaded on your tongue. Eddie’s head turns rather quickly, as if he too was waiting for you to say something. He’s staring at you through windows of deep brown, like a wooded forest just before snowfall. You wish you knew what was making his mind turn, because the hopeless romantic in you looks into his eyes and reads

Tell me you want me the way I want you.

It’s too much of a risk to interpret a simple look in such a way. Maybe if you were a more confident person, you’d be willing to take that risk. But you’re not, and it seems neither is Eddie. He’s turning on his heel to leave, dropping his cigarette butt into the ashtray that sits near the folding chairs along the exterior wall. You realize this is the last time you’ll ever see him if you don’t do something, anything.

“Eddie,"

His name is all you can force yourself to say, but it’s enough. He turns around and something about the look in your eyes lets him know you need him to come back over, so he returns to his previous position, at your side, leaning over the railing.

Another minute of silence is shared between the two of you, and throughout its duration, your mind is plagued with the possible outcomes of all the different things you could utter to the patient man beside you. Just when you felt your brain was about to explode, you mentally scream fuck it and decide to express what you’ve wanted to for the past couple months.

"Please stay here."

It wasn't exactly what you were trying to convey, but it didn't fully matter. It seemed as though Eddie understood, or at least to the best of his ability--he wasn't a mind reader.

"I'm here." his voice was soft, reassuring.

He places his hand over top of yours, an unexpected gesture you welcomed fully--albeit flustered.

"I really need to get better at articulating my thoughts." you were thinking out loud, but it was something Eddie deserved to know as well.

"Is there any way I can help you with that?"

"Maybe."

Eddie looked down, taking both of your hands in his now, giving them a comforting squeeze.

"Is what's on your mind something recent, or is it a thought you've had for a while that you've been holding onto?"

"The second one."

"Okay, that's a start," the smile that graces his features burns your insides like a shot of whiskey. How was it even possible for one man to be so effortlessly attractive? "Is it something you specifically wanted to tell me?"

You nod.

"Well, that makes this a lot more interesting. And to think I almost went back inside!"

You smile sheepishly, thankful that there were no bright lights to illuminate the redness of your cheeks.

"Hmm. Is it something positive or negative?"

"Uh, I think that would be dependent upon you."

"Well shit, Y/N. At this point you've gotta just tell me."

"Fucking hell," you whine. "Fine. But you can't hold it against me."

"No promises."

"I think I'm falling for you."

"Oh."

Eddie's face is pale, but his expression isn't one you can decipher. He's still looking at you, and as much as you wanted to tear your eyes away, look anywhere else but in his beautiful brown eyes, you were frozen. It wouldn't matter if you ran inside, you uttered the words out loud and he heard them--there was no coming back from this.

"Yeah." It was all you could offer, too scared to make excuses for making things unbelievably awkward.

"How long?"

"Hmm?"

"How long have you been feeling this way?"

That wasn't the direction you expected the conversation to go, not that you expected the conversation to even continue.

"A month... or two."

Eddie's quiet. You realize you probably just freaked him the fuck out and he was most likely planning his escape route, despite his only options being to walk through a door or jump from a third story balcony.

"I'd say you're pretty lucky. I've been going on five months."

Huh?

"Huh?" Your confusion was the first thought you didn't worry about expressing the entire conversation.

"I've been thinking the same thing about you for five months."

"Really?"

"Mmhm." he nods. Eddie was hardly ever one to be shy--seeing him like this was cute.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Probably for the same reason you didn't."

Fair enough.

"Now what?" you asked, not sure what to do with your hands, your face, or any part of you.

"I'm not sure. We could just stay here and take in our surroundings, or we could go back to my place and make out-"

"That one. The second one."

"Someone's eager."

"You don't seem eager enough!"

"I've had a lot of time to learn how to be patient. Five months to be exact."

"You say that like it's my fault!"

"Maybe it is! It's not like I was being subtle, I flirted with you every chance I got! I figured you were just too scared to flat-out reject me."

"You flirted with me?"

"A million times!"

"You're joking."

"Dead serious."

"When?"

"Remember your birthday party?"

"Yeah...?"

"I literally told you that you looked sexy!"

"I figured that was just 'cause I was the birthday girl!"

"Then explain why I called you a few weeks ago and told you all about this girl I couldn't get off my mind, and literally just described you!"

"You were talking about me?"

"Oh my god, Y/N! Seriously?"

"Well unless you say it's me, I'm not going to assume you're talking about me!"

"Jesus Christ. Okay, what about the time I brought you flowers at work?"

"Those were from you?"

"Uh, yes. I literally handed them to you!"

"I figured you intercepted the delivery guy and that they were from my parents! My mom texted me earlier that day and asked me if I had decorated my apartment yet, so I just assumed that she sent me flowers so I'd have something to put on the kitchen table."

"Just my luck, honestly."

"Maybe you should've left a note."

"God damn it," Eddie slapped his forehead with his palm. "What about when your car broke down and we had to stop in that diner and the waitress told us we were such a cute couple and she gave us free coffee while we waited for the tow truck?"

"What about that?"

"We played along! I gave you a kiss on the cheek and everything! Friends don't do that, Y/N!"

"They do when a sweet old lady gives you free coffee and you don't want to break her heart!"

"Okay this is getting ridiculous. Clearly, we misread some things, but now we know we both feel the same way. You like me, I like you, right?"

"Right."

"So can I kiss you, on the lips?"

"Please."

Eddie took a swift step forward, his hands reaching and grabbing either side of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he brought his lips against yours. The kiss was passionate, fervent with all the emotions the two of you had been withholding from one another for far too long.

You separated after a moment, looking at one another with blown out pupils, blushed faces, and a newfound tenderness that cleared away any doubt that threatened to tear you apart.

--

sorry the second half of this lowkey sucks. I just kinda ran with it. Sorry again.

[rfswitchart]

Hunter's Comfort Food

I think, at this point, you all know my personal favorite Owl House headcanon. I shouldn't have to say what it is, you already know what I'm about to discuss. However, I am going to describe why Hunter loves what he does and maybe you'll adopt it as your headcanon too...

It all started when Hunter ran away from the Emperor's Coven Post-Hollow Mind. He'd been living in the paranormatorim in Hexside since, building a nest and living on snacks. Gus, having seen the former Golden Guard living so dreadfully, offers him his lunch, which, among other things, included a sandwich.

Hunter then helps Gus escape Adrian and the scouts, citing his reason for doing so being because Gus offered him food. When the illusionist questions him on it, Hunter says "It was a really good sandwich." As many have pointed out, Hunter's diet in the castle was probably miserable. On top of it, he was clearly malnourished, as several characters (Luz, Eda, Amity, Edric, Emira, Matt) have said. So it is assumed he didn't have a great time food wise, which is why he looked so happy eating that loaf of bread in King's Tide...

Yeah, look at him go. Happily chewing on some bread and being pleased as punch over it. And this is where my HC came to be, Hunter and Gus bonding over a simple offering of food. A kindness Hunter had probably never known until then, combined with something that probably saved his life or at the very least made him feel much better. I feel like that sole interaction weighed on Hunter's heart, and it made him fall in love with sandwiches. After all, without Gus' sandwich, he would have never been able to sit down and actually talk about how he was feeling about Belos. He wouldn't have bonded with Gus and helped the younger witch when he needed it most. Hunter developed an intensely strong bond with Gus, a friendship and brotherhood forged in love, trust, and sandwiches.

That said, I assume when they were trapped in the human realm, Hunter started looking into various types of sandwiches (with the help of Camila and Luz, of course.) Figuring out what the best meats and cheeses were. What kinds of vegetables go well with them (information he totally shared with Willow, obviously.) The best kinds of bread and condiments to compliment the other ingredients. I assume he learned about what foods he liked and disliked (boy loves himself some olives, btw.) Of course, this eventually lead to the ultimate creation. His pride and joy: The True Hero Sub. The culmination of his knowledge and understanding of foods that allowed him to create divinity between two slices of bread (well, shoved into a loaf of french bread, but hey, who's counting?)

Of course, this is a BIG sandwich. I know, that's the one I made myself. It is about 2' long (60.69cm for you non-Americans.) It is not something you can eat by yourself, and Hunter would never want to eat it alone. Because of this sandwich, Hunter came up with his philosophy on food; "Food tastes best when shared with others." So I assume the first time he made one, he shared it with the others. Definitely Gus, his sandwich brethren, and possibly Willow, someone Hunter would be thrilled to share his accomplishments with.

And this probably continued as he became an adult. I bet anything that Hunter has a series of sandwiches he brings with him to work. He maybe even wrote down his own cookbook of sorts for them. You KNOW anytime he had a new idea, Gus was the first person he told about it. He probably even made a book to make sandwiches to represent Cosmic Frontier characters (you know Gus AND Camila happily assisted him.) And that's my headcanon. A boy, his best friend, and a type of food that brought them closer and possibly even saved a life in more than one sense. In this house, we respect the Sandwich Bros. (Tagging @childlikegoblinqueen, @unniebeans, and @probablyhuntersmom, who I assume have also had this headcanon infect their brain for some time. *evil laugh*)

[witchthewriter]

𝐇𝐨𝐠𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝

Like I did with the moral alignments, I thought I would make a post about why and how I sort characters into Hogwarts Houses! There are also quizzes so you can figure it out for yourself as well. I go into detail about each House, what they represent, their background and what it means to be sorted into a certain House. 

I hope you enjoy!

*just because I’m talking about Harry Potter doesn’t mean I align with the transphobic views of J.K. Rowling. There is no room for transphobia on my page, and I support the trans and LGBTQIA+ community*

Figuring out which Hogwarts House you belong to has been around since the HP series came out. But I think there’s more to it than simply choosing to be in ‘the brave house’ or ‘the smart house.’ I think it reveals a lot about a person - or rather, a large aspect. 

Here are a few tests for you to try, comment below what you got!

Test 1 (the ‘official’ Wizarding World quiz)

Test 2 (from IDRlabs, they have other personality quizzes as well!)

Test 3 (Here’s the full Pottermore quiz. The 1st quiz will only have a few questions, so that’s why I don’t think it’s fully accurate to take)

Test 4 (A really good one from Quotev, the questions/answers aren’t obvious)

Gryffindor: Do what is right. Hufflepuff: Do what is kind.  Ravenclaw: Do what is wise. Slytherin: Do what is necessary.

𝐆𝐑𝐘𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐑

“ Where dwell the brave at heart, their daring, nerve and chivalry set Gryffindors apart “

𝐸𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡: Fire

𝐹𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦: ‘Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor’, Godric Gryffindor. 

Dwelled at Godric’s Hollow

Was an accomplished dueller

A fair man, he believed that any child who displayed magical abilities before their 11th birthday should be able to attend Hogwarts.

Gryffindor was the original owner of the Sorting Hat

Gryffindor also had a sword made, which would present itself to any true Gryffindor in a moment of need.

He was allegedly the best friend of Slytherin before he left Hogwarts

Godric will always be known for his accomplished skills in battle, and his fight against Muggle discrimination in the wizarding world.

𝐸𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑠𝘩𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑠:

Courage

Bravery

Standing up for what you believe in - even if your voice shakes. 

Caring about the greater good 

Daring/Bold 

Having a deep need to do the right thing 

Standing out from the crowd

𝐶𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝐻𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒:

Lucy Pevensie

Thor

Mulan

Katniss Everdeen

Merida

Batman/Bruce Wayne

Buffy Summers

Chandler Bing

𝐇𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐏𝐔𝐅𝐅

“ You might belong in Hufflepuff, Where they are just and loyal. Those patient Hufflepuffs are true. And unafraid of toil. “

𝐸𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡: Earth

𝐹𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦: ‘From valley broad,’ Helga Hufflepuff

A kind and warm woman who believed in loyalty, patience and hard-work as the best abilities a person can possess

Was a brilliant cook and had remarkable skills for preparing food. Her recipes are still used in Hogwarts to this day.

She brought the house-elves to Hogwarts

Owner of Hufflepuff’s Cup

She was the best friend of Rowena Ravenclaw

𝐸𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑠𝘩𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑠:

Loyalty

A need for justice. A lot of the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor traits are intertwined, but the difference is that Gryffindors don’t need to know a person to feel the need to look out for them. 

Patient 

Believe in fairness and equality (Helga Hufflepuff was the only founder who believed everyone should have a fair chance in being taught)

Accepting

Thinks about other people more than themselves

Would do anything at all, for family 

𝐶𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝐻𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒:

Edmund Pevensie

Antman

Jay Gatsby

Okoye

Samwise Gamgee

Michael Scott

Alfred Pennyworth

Joey Tribbiani

Phoebe Buffay

𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐖

“ Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, If you’ve a ready mind, Where those of wit and learning, Will always find their kind. “

𝐸𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡: Air

𝐹𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦: ‘From Glen,’ Rowena Ravenclaw

A sharp and intelligent woman

She wanted to make Hogwarts the finest wizarding school in the world, teaching only those with the highest intelligence 

Rowena wore a diadem that was said to grant wisdom to the wearer, however, Rowena’s own daughter grew jealous of her mother’s incredible intelligence. Helena Ravenclaw stole her mother’s diadem and ran away, a fact that Rowena kept hidden from her fellow founders even when she fell ill.

Wanting to see Helena before she died, Rowena sent a man to bring Helena home. Unfortunately, that man was the Bloody Baron, who was in love with Helena, and stabbed her in a rage when she refused to come home.

 After Helena was tragically killed, legend tells us that Rowena Ravenclaw died of a broken heart. 

She was the best friend of Helga Hufflepuff

𝐸𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑠𝘩𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑠:

Intelligence

Wisdom

Witty

Open-minded - don’t mix well with traditional, close-minded people. Ravenclaws see the big picture, they think about what things could be, rather than what things are. 

They think outside of the box, they don’t like being confined by rules or traditions. 

Unique 

Individualistic/Original

Actually very intuitive

𝐶𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝐻𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒:

Susan Pevensie

Sherlock Holmes

Bruce Banner

James Bond

Annabeth Chase

Mary Poppins

Gandalf

Monica Geller

Ross Geller

𝐒𝐋𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍

“ Or perhaps in Slytherin, You’ll make your real friends. These cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends. “

𝐸𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡: Water

𝐹𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦: ‘From Fen’, Salazar Slytherin

He believed strongly that only wizards of pure blood 

This belief caused a big rift between the founders, especially Gryffindor, which led to the depature of Salazar 

Despite his flaws, Salazar was a talented wizard, skilled in Legilemency and Parseltongue

Before he left, however, he created the Chamber of Secrets

𝐸𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑠𝘩𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑠:

Ambition

Determination

Cunning

Traditional

Strategic

Willing to do whatever it takes to achieve their goals; even using others for their gain. 

Not all Slytherins use these traits for personal gain, however, because the founder was evil - doesn’t mean every Slytherin is. 

Resourceful

Cleverness

Family means a lot to them

Desires respect

𝐶𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝐻𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒:

Peter Pevensie

Natasha Romanoff

Daenerys Targaryen

Lady MacBeth

Wednesday Addams

Selina Kyle/Catwoman 

Rachel Green

Harley Quinn

[thefallennightmare]

So I’ve been thinking a lot about Dom!noah and having a dom drop with reader after a rough session. Only if you’re comfortable writing this of course!

@thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @exitwoundsx @shayzillaaaa @lookwhatitcost @badomensls @princesspeach-00 @burning-outx @shadowseve @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @niicoleleigh @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @thisbicc @sammyjoeee @pathion @flowery-mess @tashka

SMUT BELOW THE CUT!

"Are you alright, angel?" Noah questioned while brushing away the sweat-slicked hair from your face.

Your breathing was erratic and it felt like your heart was about to burst out of your chest.

There was a faraway look in your eyes as you continued to stare at the ceiling.

Noah gently turned your face so you had no choice but to look into his eyes.

"Are you alright?" He asked again.

With a lazy smile, you nodded. "That was so fucking good."

Even though Noah tried his best to smile, you could see the guilt in his eyes.

You two had just finished a rough sex session with him having you tied to all four posts of the bed, on your stomach. He had your ass poised in the air as he whipped it with a leather strap.

Your ass was red and didn't doubt you would have marks that would last for days but you didn't care.

You loved all of it.

The various bite marks down your back.

The dark hickeys on the inside of your thighs.

The faint choke marks from his fingers around your throat.

You asked for all of it and Noah knows how much it turns you on. He's never one to disappoint.

The fucking was fast and rough, his nails digging into the skin of your thighs and he spilled his cum all over your pussy, claiming it was his.

It was.

Only his.

But now that the sex-filled haze had passed, Noah took one look at your body and was filled with immediate regret.

"I didn't mean to go that far. If I hurt you, please-."

You hushed his worries with a soft kiss to his already kissed bruised lips.

"I'm fine, love. It might hurt to sit and walk for a few days but trust me, it'll be worth it."

Even with your words, he still felt guilty.

"You deserve to be treated like the angel you are."

Slowly you sat up in bed with him, holding his face still. "Noah, you do treat me like the angel I am. You are such a good, sweet, kind-hearted man. I love that about you. But I also love the dark side you let out during sex. I asked for it because I know I can take it."

His eyes were still dull with his worry but eventually he nodded. "I know. But I don't think this guilt is going to go away for a bit."

You ruffled the bangs away from his eyes. "I think we should take a long soak in the bath and watch Lord of The Rings after."

That brought a smile to his face. "Sounds good to me, angel."

[kravchikfreak]

I'm sorry if this ask is coming out of nowhere, but I have been looking for posts that talk about how S2 has declined in quality and there have been virtually NONE. Even tags like 'arcane critical' or 'anti arcane' don't show up even though I know there are posts that are tagged with them. I'm losing my mind. Has nobody else noticed this downgrade? The ideas could have been good, but they were not executed well and the whole thing reads like they wrote it really quickly without any real editing and then rushed to get it out. It feels hollow, like we're seeing a botched or unfinished version of what it was supposed to be. What kind of random ass shit is it that an enforcer comes up to Vi and says, "cait said good things about you," and Vi is just like wow you're right, I'm sold! Even though she already knows Cait has a high opinion of her and that wasn't the issue in the first place! Also who was that random homeless man? Why am I supposed to care about these people? Fans get defensive about the pacing and argue that s1 did a lot in a minimal amount of time too, but I don't think they realize that pacing has to do with making something feel organic. Vi's heel turn into becoming an enforcer was not organic. Viktor's two second goodbye was not organic. Both of these things could have made sense if they'd given these moments even just a little more effort or care. There were so many unnecessary scenes that could have been cut out to give more time to things that desperately needed it (like caitlyn's sad wordless montage about her mom. Why did it drag out so long? Her grief is apparent in every other scene. We did not need an entire abstract slideshow of her making various sad expressions.) There's also the animation. The animation is leagues above a regularly animated show, but if you look closely it is actually not as good as s1. There is less detail, the lighting of the background doesn't always match the characters, and there are moments where the lips don't always sync with their voices. These are minor things that I wouldn't usually care about, but for a multi-million dollar show like Arcane? Riot games recently laid off a whole slew of its creative team, too, and I wonder if they've been making similar cuts before that. It would certainly explain the drop in quality. I wouldn't put it past corporate greed to nerf one of the most groundbreaking animated shows in modern media if they thought they could profit more by cutting corners.

I'm sorry to ramble in your inbox as a random stranger, but it boggles my mind that there are so few people mentioning s2's flaws (not including rage bait, which is annoying because it only delegitamizes real criticisms and discussions.) I feel like I'm screaming in the void like is nobody else seeing this shit??

well hello there! first of all, "arcane critical" is what i was looking for when i was writing that post. gonna put it in tags now before i forget

secondly, i love asks! so no need to apologize. thirdly it's a bummer you went under anonym, i don't believe you get notifs for your anonymous asks, so unless you actually hang out on my blog regularly there's a chance you won't see me appreciating your thoughts and agreeing with you (expect for the animation part, cause for me it was great, i have no questions on that regard. but for each their own. i'm a big fun of the dragon prince first season's animation and still sad they get rid of their 13fps style, so...)

anyway, i got bored at the beginning of my rumbling that time and didn't get into some deep analysis but yes, the first season also had events to go fast and forward, but at the same time they made sense. it wasn't rush or dragged, every scene had a meaning and weight

YES to the burial scene. like i get it, it was drawn pretty and it was sad and grey for cait but my god how many hours can we watch vi going away from 317 different angles? i was actually shocked to see her at cait's, cause after 10 minutes of her hiding in the crowd and leaving before cait saw her i was legit sure the show tried to tell us they broke up for now and won't see each other for a while

and it all feels so odd, as if on the one hand writers had too little allowed episodes to work with their ideas, like they came up with all these important story points but had no more screen time to add actual story development between the points, cause the season is like 10 episodes too short to fit a full coherent story. but on the other hand they have too much unused screen time, like they wrote only 5 episodes but they had to make 9 so now we will just fill the equivalent of 4 episodes of free time with mute repetitive long scenes

who the fuck is that mute lizard cop? is he actually mute? or there were no budget on one more voice actor? what's his problem? why he always looks like he's mad at everyone? should i even care he's always displeased? does he even matter? if no, why he has so much screen time and close-up shots? if yes, why he has no meaning or story or character or name? i swear to god, in the first season that one future-junkie dude had more of a meaning and weight in his two minutes scene than these lizard cop and the new jinx's sister during two episodes

and it all would've been fine, really, if it was the first season, or one of these already bad shows that you don't really expect much of. but arcane was a masterpiece, and also we've been waiting for it for three years. so it's the feeling that we know how GOOD it can be, and the feeling that it just chose not to

w....wait... what if they also tried to do great? and failed to do good in the process

or maybe, as you said, just some internal kitchen shit. i never actually follow media creation stuff and staff so maybe that's just it. still not make it all better for me as a viewer who was too excited to learn at 1 am that the act dropped and stayed up until 7am to make sure to watch it before getting to sleep

HEY THANK YOU for giving me opportunity to rumble about it again

[theresattrpgforthat]

Do you know of games where acquired 'detriments' (such as scars and traumas) give players unique benefits rather than being seen as strictly detrimental?

Preferably ones where its not just "Get a bonus when this causes a problem"

Theme: Helpful Detriments

Hello there, I had a question similar to this back in 2023, so I’m going to redirect you to my Curses recommendation post first, because there might be something there that fits what you’re looking for. Then we can top off that list with a few more!

When I think of this kind of thing, I think of three categories: horror, the paranormal, and cyberpunk.

External Containment Bureau, by Mythic Gazetteer.

External Containment Bureau is a game of paranormal investigation and bureaucracy using a lightweight, hackable version of the Forged in the Dark design framework. You play as trained agents of the External Containment Bureau, an organization tasked with the study, identification, and containment of paranormal phenomena.

The Bureau authorizes agents to make use of these phenomena to give yourself incredible powers (so long as the proper forms are in order). But take care: using paranormal energies inches you ever closer to joining the ranks of the paranormal yourself. Will you transcend humanity in the line of duty? Play to find out.

ECB gives your characters special paranormal powers during the course of play, and whenever you take enough resonance (ECB’s Stress mechanic) you mark another one. Your character can take up to 3 powers before things get tricky: mark enough resonance to get your 4th power and you are no longer a playable character - you get promoted, demoted, or transcend past mundane existence. If you were to hack this system, I think you could flavor these powers and abilities to make them feel more like curses - in fact, I think Congregation, by DM Rawlings, does something like this.

Urban Shadows, by Magpie Games.

The streets bleed shadows as the supernatural politics of the city threaten to swallow you whole. Will you die a hero—a savior for those who have never had enough—or live long enough to become the villain? Will you fight the darkness…or give in for power?

The choice is yours. 

In Urban Shadows, your characters are constantly wrestling with the opportunity to be really shitty people in exchange for Corruption. Each character has a special move that entices them, such as the Spectre’a move “witness a scene and do nothing” - which gives you corruption. Mark enough corruption, and you get more powerful - like the Spectre’s Telekinesis ability.

Of course, the more Corruption moves you have, the faster you take corruption, and once you’ve maxed out your Corruption limit - well, your character isn’t really a hero anymore, are they? (Which is why the GM gets control of them, and you make a new character.)

The link above is for the 1st edition. The 2nd Edition Quickstart is a teaser of what's coming soon.

Heart: The City Beneath, by Rowan, Rook & Decard.

Heart: The City Beneath is a complete tabletop roleplaying game about delving into a nightmare undercity that will give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of – or kill you in the process.

It is a dungeon-crawling, story-forward tabletop RPG from the designers of Spire that focuses on what characters have to lose in pursuit of their dreams in the chaotic darkness beneath the world.

Heart is known for many things: its juicy setting, its utilization of the classic dungeon crawl, its body horror… but the horrifically gorgeous descriptions of the characters are what we’re here for. Watch your characters slowly hollow themselves out and give themselves over to whatever dark power has given them unique abilities. These characters will get more and more powerful… until they reach the final session, where everyone goes out in a big blazing, gory mess.

The Fallout system also gives the GM a chance to give characters interesting trauma and wounds, but they also could help generate interesting Beats that players want to work toward in order to level up. I think mechanically, this recommendation might have a loose connection to what you’re looking for, but thematically it might still be close.

Doll.Bod, by curatrix-ribston.

In a City of neon lights and shimmering pools of acid rain, the world ends a little each day. Hunger and sickness walk the streets like the ripper in the tales of old, taking those that the system casts aside. 

There is a way out. When you've got nothing else, you can always mortgage your body. The corpos have use for an object's flesh, for those they can augment without having to care for those pesky regulations. They're just playing with dolls really.

Dolls that they send on the jobs you can't actually send your employees on. They're not comitting crimes, just making creative use of their property.

That's what you are now. Their property. Maybe, with time, you can be something else entirely.

Let’s talk about Doll.Bod.

You are really cool cyborgs, with really deadly abilities and useful skills. You each have special abilities like the Razor-grrl’s skin razors that can cut at the slightest touch, or the Seamful, whose blood can heal herself every time she gets hit. The catch is: you don’t have control of your body. Your body has been sold, and the corporation that bought it is using it as they please. In play, this is often represented by other players at the table making decisions for you about what your character does - with safety tools in place, of course.

Not only that, your own special abilities harm your character in certain ways - for instance, The Razor-grrl can’t engage in physical intimacy with anyone, because she’s likely to hurt them, while the Gargoyle can’t turn her eyes off - until they short out, that is.

Other Games I Talk About Ad Nauseum...

Apocalypse Keys has a Ruin track similar to that of Urban Shadows, giving your characters more and more powerful abilities that encourage their descent into monstrosity, constantly pushing them towards ending the world. It’s not necessarily a bad thing either - sometimes the more satisfying outcome is tearing down the whole organization and rebuilding anew.

Those of Us Who Know Better has superheroes whose power always comes at a cost. In one way, you could see this as a detriment with a bonus (having to do certain things to get access to special powers) although I acknowledge that it might be a bit of a stretch.

Numenera has a lot of random mutations that can happen to you if you choose to use the random tables at the back of Destiny, and the Rusthaven expansion has some other abilities that come with both benefits and setbacks.

[eemamminy-art]

You have turned me from a Zenos hater into a Zenos ambilaventer keep posting and you might manage to turn me into a Zenos lover

If you already hated him though is me drawing him really going to make that big of a difference? 😩 Like I know I give him a fat ass and extremely delicious nose in my artwork but now I feel compelled to give you my tedtalk on why I like zenos lmao

This is about to be really long and also contains spoilers for stormblood, shadowbringers, and endwalker

This might surprise you but I like Zenos for his characterization and storyline in the game itself! The fanart is just kind of a bonus. He's one of many examples in Stormblood of a character that is shaped by their experiences, though I think it's not told as successfully as it is for like, Fordola, Arenvald, or Yotsuyu, because a key part of his backstory was locked to a short story in a print-only book (which I think is out of print now). The most you see of it in the actual game is this blink and you miss it line from Lyse at the very end of 4.0:

(Dialog from the quest "Stormblood", patch 4.0)

What really, really appeals to me about Zenos though, is that he is the personification of depression and that really resonates with me. He has anything he could possibly want, he has accomplished a great many things, but he feels completely hollow inside. He's miserable. He slaughtered countless Domans including their leader and felt nothing, commanded to do it by his father because (as shown in that short story) he only ever was acknowledged to even exist to his father when he practiced violence. So it's a given now, that's what's expected of him and that's all his life is. He's completely desensitized.

He finds one thing that makes him feel alive, that is the warrior of light challenging him, and it becomes his sole focus. Nothing else matters but chasing that high, because every single other thing is a low. After being bested by the warrior of light for the very last time, faced with probably prison for his crimes, he decides to die by his own hand on that high note rather than go back to the drudgery and misery that is everything else.

It's why in endwalker he can be swayed to do something good at the very, very end. He doesn't have a moral compass because he was shaped into an attack dog by his father, he sees "righteousness" as an excuse for war. Because I mean, what else is Garlean propaganda but righteousness from their twisted perspective? He asks Jullus if he would be happier had he a good reason to kill so many garleans after killing his own father— he makes it plain that death is death and there is no justice or good or evil in his eyes. He did have a reason, and it was that his father's use of black rose would likely kill the warrior of light, the only person or thing that gave Zenos any joy in life. Later, it was that Fandaniel dangled the idea that the warrior of light would be attracted to the slaughter and would come running to stop him so he killed more people during the civil war after the emperor's death. But he doesn't need to say that that was why. The reason doesn't matter, he knows the action would not change no matter how it was justified. Even if it was a "good" reason, death is death.

(Dialog from the quest "The Time Between the Seconds", patch 4.0)

(Dialog from the quest "As the Heavens Burn", patch 6.0)

I often see people take Alisaie's part in that scene as her convincing him to be a better person but that's really not what happens. He knows if he takes that action that others perceive as good and helps to stop Endsinger, he could have that high again in facing the warrior of light one more time. He could find joy and meaning, even for a fleeting moment. Then once again end it all because he fears returning to the low monotony of life. It's all over his dialog, especially in Endwalker. The dialog at the very end where he asks the warrior of light if they feel fulfilled, I know is meant to be a bit more of a meta question toward the player themselves, but I'd like to think it's Zenos comparing how different his outlook is to the warrior of light's. The warrior of light has many things keeping them going, whereas Zenos is drowning in despair with only one bright spot that he is constantly chasing time and time again.

(Dialog from the quest "Friends Gathered", patch 6.0)

those three tiny lines can hold so much zenoswol yearning in them AAAAAAAAAAAAA I AM not well

I personally still feel like there was room for him to survive that and to be gently guided into more and more good and try to undo some of that conditioning but I think he might be too polarizing of a character for him to become a permanent ally in canon. Much as I would love to see that! I have to wonder if the mentions of him in the 6.X patches that bounced between positive and negative were testing the waters, but I will leave my tinfoil hat aside because this post is already WAY too long lmao

I understand why people dislike him: they think he enjoys murder because he does it without "a good reason", they don't like how obsessive he becomes toward the warrior of light who is an extension of the player themselves, they don't like that in Fandaniel's scheme in "in from the cold" Zenos is the one inhabiting the warrior of light's body. Totally get it, totally understand.

I'm just saying I see the complexity to him and I find it compelling. Just as I found the overwhelming grief and despair that motivated Nidhogg or Emet-selch or Elidibus to be compelling. I think what people miss though when you like an antagonist is that feeling empathy toward them means you don't feel empathy toward the people they harmed, or that you somehow agree with what they did. But really, I just love seeing these characters that are faced with such tragedy or misery that they start to lose sight of right and wrong. They're driven entirely by emotions. For a story where emotions are literally power, I think it's a really interesting angle to take with the antagonists of that story.

Man, where was I going with this? 😂 I just love Zenos... I don't think I will be convincing anyone to like him who doesn't already, and that's not at all my intent. I just thought I'd share my perspective a little bit after getting this ask!

[dbnightingale24]

React

A Stepcest love story about Jim

~~

~~

Because why not? I have a million other stories to update, so why not add another one to the list? I've been working on this story for a while, but I've been anxious to upload it. I've decided to go back to my old ways (for this story only) and not give you guys a novel. We're gonna do this bit by bit. I have more than enough to post the full story, but I know a good amount of people haven't seen it. As always, thank you to @fuckingbye for an amazing moodboard! I think the world of you, and I can't wait to hug you again, and cry entirely too much over life. ANYWHO, let's get started, shall we?

P.S. The playlist is going to be the same for this entire story. K, lets go!

Word Count: 3,514

Warnings: Swearing, Family Drama, Stepdaughter/Step Father interest, Drinking, Drinking Relapse, MINORS DNI, Emotional Cheating...I think that's it for now?

Song(s) That Inspired This Chapter: You're Turning Me Cruel Cause I'm Just Wanting You To React

Summary: You and and your Mother have never had the best relationship, but the both of you have always tried. However, when she invites you to stay, and you're met with the last surprise you were expecting, will any progress be made? Or will it just get worse? Catastrophically worse.

~~

I do not give permission/consent for my stories/works to get posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior/relationship, this is for entertainment purposes only.

~~

~~

Chapter 1

It wasn’t exactly exciting, going home for Summer Holiday, but the thought of getting your own place just feels too daunting . Yes, graduation is coming up soon, but with the cost of everything as it is, you’d much rather wait until you actually have to rent one. Yes, you’re Mother is the last person you want to spend any time with, but who knows? Maybe she finally got a handle on her drinking?

Yeah, that’s likely.

As you knock on her door, you shift nervously from foot to foot, and you don’t know why. It doesn’t matter that you two rarely talk, or rarely see each other, she’s still your Mother.

Whether she likes it or not.

“Hello,” a man greets with a soft smile once he opens the door.

Well, hello to you too.

“Hi, I’m looking for Y/M/N? Last I was told, she still lives here.”

“She does,” he laughs softly, standing aside to let you in, “she ran off to the store. She wanted to be back by the time you got here. She’s been anxious,” he confesses softly, closing the door. 

You give him a look over as you place your bags down, and you can’t help but marvel at how handsome he is. He has beautiful ocean blue eyes, a slender physique (but you can tell there’s some muscle there), black hair that’s starting to gray a bit that you just wanna run your hands through and, lastly, a gold band on his finger.

Pause. There’s no way...oh, fuck no.

“What’s your name?” you ask with a kind smile, though your mind is racing a million miles a minute. 

“Jim. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“That wouldn’t be because you’re married to my lovely Mother, is it?” you question, and he softly shakes his head.

“She wanted you to be here.”

“Oh, I bet she did,” you scoff, shaking your head. “I bet she fucking did. Do you want a drink? I want a drink.”

“She doesn’t keep booze-” “Oh yes she does, you just have to know where to look,” you smirk, making your way into the kitchen. “How long have you two been married?”

“About a year.”

“Well, God bless you,” you mutter, stomping around on the kitchen floor. “Oh, don’t tell me you’ve gone all saintlike on me now,” you scowl, before finally stomping on the hollow tile. “If there’s one person I know, it’s my Mother,” you scowl with a nod, before crouching down and picking at the at the worn tile. “So, how did you two lovebirds meet?”

“Maybe it would be best if she told you,” he mumbles as you pull up the tile on the floor. 

“I’m gonna level with ya, Jim. My Mother and I? Not the best relationship. So, whatever she says, I’m not gonna believe her. Hell, she’s been married a year and I’m just finding out about it. So,” you huff, standing on your feet once you’ve dug out the bottle of whiskey from the floor, and recovering the hole with the tile, “how’d you two meet?”

“At a bar,” he tells you, seemingly shocked that you actually did find a bottle. “Someone I used to see worked there. Her and I broke up and soon enough I started seeing your Mother.”

“I’m guessing things went well if you married her,” you mutter, grabbing two glasses.

Do you mean to turn her world upside down? No. However, it doesn’t change the fact that your world has been turned upside down, and you can’t help but be a little irritated by it.

Irritated by her.

“Do you have a drinking problem too?” you ask, pouring you both a drink, “don’t wanna mess up anyone’s progress or lack of,” you scoff.

You really don’t mean to be rude to the handsome man, this is just the last thing you expected.

“No, but-”

“Well, lets work on that,” you laugh humorlessly as you raise your glass to cheers him. 

Once again, it’s not the handsome stranger’s fault, but you’re also caught completely off guard.

“Has she cut down on drinking?” you ask, after taking a sip.

“She really hasn’t started drinking since she told me you were coming home for Holiday.”

“That makes an awful lot of sense. I handle her about as well as she handles me. She didn’t give you a warning?”

“She just said that things will be tense for a few days, but things will smooth out.”

“ ‘Things will smooth out’. Well, that’s one way of putting it. Well, Jim..Dad,” you scoff humorlessly, “I’m sorry you’re in the middle of this,” you mumble as the front door unlocks. 

“Honey, is she...oh,” your Mother sighs as he closes the door.

She’s more than likely seen the bags by the door. 

“I wanted to be here when you first got here, but I realized I forgot a few things at the market and had to...ah,” she mutters, taking note of both you and Jim drinking whiskey.

How the hell else did she think this was gonna go?

“I know what it looks like, but it’s not-”

“If you’d have told me, I would’ve gotten you a wedding gift,” you laugh as you raise a glass to her. 

“I didn’t want you to be mad.”

“You got married and this is the first time I’m hearing about it. What reaction did you think you were going to get?”

“I just knew you wouldn’t get it. I know we’ve been through a lot, but once you get to know him-”

“I don’t need a Father, Mum,” you shrug before finishing off your drink. “I’m not even trying to be a cunt. I’ve just gone all these years without one, and I’m a full grown adult now. I just would’ve appreciated a heads up,” you shrug before pouring yourself another glass. “I’ll be in my room if anyone needs me.”

You’re quick to grab your bags in the entry way, and finally make your way upstairs. You only make it three up three steps before an argument breaks out. You take a deep breath before continuing your way up the stairs. You know what’s coming, and you know it’s gonna last for the entirety of the Summer. God, if only you knew how much damage you’d truly done.

You would’ve never come home for the Summer.

**

“I don’t want to argue,” Jim sighs, clearly exasperated, “I just wish you would’ve told me! I’m coming into this looking like the bad guy.”

“Of course, make it all about you,” your Mother slurs and you roll your eyes.

They’ve been arguing since you’ve retreated to your old bedroom. You truly didn’t mean to start an argument between the two of them. Despite what your Mother believes, you do want her to be happy, but you’re just tired of her shit. At this point, it truly feels like she goes out of her way to make things complicated, and there’s no fucking reason for it. She always needs to paint someone else as the bad guy and, for as much as she may love Jim right now, she will make him the bad guy if she thinks it’ll workout better for her in the end. 

“Honey-”

“I’m meeting up with Rose. Don’t wait up,” she slurs as she storms out, slamming the door shut behind her.

Somewhere deep, deep, down inside, you do feel bad. However, it’s not bad enough for you to actually apologize to her. Yes, you’re used to her bullshit, but this? This is a new level of audacity, even for her. Not to mention, you do feel bad for Jim. You know absolutely nothing about the man, so he may be complete and total scum, but you do know she won him over with a personality built on lies. However, you truly didn’t mean to drag him into you and your Mother’s years and years of drama.

Which is why you’re now picking up your empty glass and making your way downstairs, taking a deep breath as you reach the last step.

Can’t hurt to get to know the man that’s apparently your new stepfather. 

“I’m sorry about that,” you greet as you make your way into the kitchen, taking a seat at the small table.

“It’s not your fault she kept things from me.”

“While that is true, I didn’t have to burst your bubble like that. You two had a life, and I just came in and made a mess of it. When it comes to my Mother, no one ever seems to make me as angry as she does.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her that angry before,” he laughs halfheartedly.

There’s an awkward silence, so you take the moment to pour the both of you a drink.

“She told me that you’re in your last year of Uni?”

“Yeah, so it’s about time for me to find my own place. The price of everything is just so damn high right now,” you sigh, finally looking over at him.

No, you’re not exactly a fan of your Mother going out and getting married without a word to you, but you have to commend her on her taste in men.

The man is gorgeous.

“You’re not wrong, I don’t know how your Mum was able to afford this place before I moved in.”

“Her parents. My grandparents kind of always took care of us, because shes always been a wild child and they never really trusted her to be able to make a stable living. When they died, they left her everything. Including this house,” you mumble, swirling the dark brown liquid around in your glass. “Lets table the talk about the crazy lady for a bit though,” you smirk and he chuckles, “tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Is this your first go at marriage? What do you do for a living? Any kids? Fill me in on all the basic information I should know,” you shrug, cocking an eyebrow.

“I’ve got two kids, this is my second time being married, and I’m a writer.”

“Your second time getting married, and you chose my Mum? I’d really love to know how she won you over.”

“She loves does love you, Y/N.”

“In her own way, yes she does. However, you’ll come to find this Summer that, that love will drive you mad. You’ll find out just how strong your love is for her.”

“Well, what’s so wrong with you?”

“God, if I knew, I would tell you,” you laugh before taking another sip of your drink. “I think I just remind her of failure, which is fine by me, honestly. I learned to accept it early on, and we’ve both been better for it. I call her on Christmas and her birthday, and that’s enough. She calls when she remembers or when she’s drunk and sad, but I barely heard from her this past year and I assume that’s because of you. Thanks for that.”

“I’m sorry-”

“No, I genuinely mean that. You’ve made her happy and I appreciate that. I’ll try not to stay long-”

“She does want you here,” he interjects sincerely before taking a sip of his drink.

“Not as much as you’d think she would. You are her do-over, and I could easily ruin that for her. My best friend lives close by and I wasn’t gonna ask to stay with her, cause she has a daughter so space is limited, but I will. I know she’ll be more than happy to have me, and I miss her like crazy anyway.”

“I feel like I’ve done something wrong.”

You stand up and grab your glass and slowly make your way to the counter, “well, you shouldn’t because you’ve done nothin’ wrong. You can’t break or cause more damage to something you had no knowledge of. Have you eaten today?”

“Y/N-”

“It’s alright, Jim. You’re not breaking up some happy Mother/Daughter relationship,” you laugh softly. “Now, have you eaten?”

“I had a light lunch, your Mother said she wanted us all to have dinner together.”

“She has these ideas, and then she gets drunk. Lets see what we have,” you mutter, opening the fridge and bending over to see what your Mother picked up from the store.

You and Jim spend the next hour or getting to know each other as you bake some salmon, make some mashed potatoes, and steam a bit of broccoli. You make sure to make enough for your Mother, because you know by the time she gets back, she’ll be shitfaced and will need something in her stomach as soon as she wakes up tomorrow. 

“You and your Mother have two very different cooking styles,” Jim notices as he leans against the counter, his third glass of whiskey in his hand.

“My grandmother taught me how to cook,” you smile at the memory while taking the salmon out of the oven, opening the foil just a bit to check on it. “My Mother learned how to cook from me and then put her own twist on it.”

“What did your Mother teach you how to do?”

“Umm, I’m really good on skates because of her. That would be our thing on the weekend. She taught me that getting hurt is okay and apart of life, and that I shouldn’t ever fear pain from anything or anyone. That she was right about.”

“She truly was excited about you coming, Y/N.” “I don’t doubt it, but she and I...we’ve always had a difficult relationship. She never wanted to be a parent, and she got to play “big sis” until my grandparents died. I was 12 and she never grew into the roll of being a parent. I used to hate her for it, but I learned to accept it. She kept a roof over my head, food on the table, and attempted to show up to school events. She wants a friend, not a daughter. There’s a reason she never told me about you, can you pass me two plates?” you ask, turning the oven and the stove off. “You seem like a nice guy though, and that’s what she needs. She’s never had a good guy before.”

“What about your Dad?”

“I’ve seen him twice, and both times, he was a complete and total cock. Pardon my language,” you smirk as he laughs. “No, my Mum wasn’t all that great, but at least she stuck around and tried. He only came around for money, both times my grandparents told him no and Mum threatened to break his knee with that fire poker in the other room.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, he wasn’t a good man,” you shrug, starting to plate the food. 

“I feel like I should’ve helped.”

“You kept me company, and that’s just as good as helping,” you smile up at him.

“I should at least set up the table,” he offers, clearing his throat as he stands up right, taking the silverware out of the drawers.

“If you insist.”

“Can’t have you thinking too little of me so soon,” he teases and you scoff. 

“You get a pass for today, it’s been a rough one for you.”

You don’t notice the way his eyes travel over your body, and even if you had, you wouldn’t have thought anything of it. He’d had a few drinks and his day went from good to a headache. He wasn’t the first guy to look you over and he wouldn’t be the last.

While he poured more drinks, you grabbed two water bottles out of the fridge, before finally taking a seat across from him at the table. Once again, the conversation flowed effortlessly and, the more you both drank, the harder it got to remember that this man was married to your Mother.

He’s your stepfather. 

When dinner is done, he insists on doing the dishes.

“It’s no big deal-”

“I derailed your day a bit, it’s the least I can do,” he laughs softly as he starts washing off the plates.

“Alright, you have a job, you’re a good Father, you’re good looking...why didn’t your first marriage work out?” you question, leaning against the counter.

You don’t miss the heavy sigh or the way his movements faltered a bit before answering.

“I cheated on my wife with a family friend. She never found out that it was a friend, but it wasn’t hard for her to figure out that I’d been up to something I shouldn’t have been.”

“Ah, so you are capable of making a mistake.”

“You’re not mad at me?” he laughs softly.

“It’s not like you cheated on my Mum, besides, it’s not like her record is perfect.”

“No stern talking to?” he smirks towards you.

“I’m just getting to know you,” you laugh. “She clearly saw something in you and didn’t feel the need to consult me on it. If she trusts you, I’m gonna have to trust that she knows what she’s doing.”

“You are somethin’ else.”

“I get that a lot.”

For just a moment, as both gaze at each other, you forget that there’s a line you shouldn’t be crossing with this man. It was literally just discussed that he’s married to your Mother. That doesn’t seem to matter right now , though. Not when he’s fun, handsome, and looking at you like he wants to get to know every little thing about you.

Well, that is until your Mother comes stumbling through the front door. 

“Fuck!” she exclaims, crashing into the wall.

“I’ll handle it,” you mutter, quickly pushing yourself up from the counter.

You need to get away from him anyway.

“I hope you’re happy,” she slurs as you collect her. “He hates me and it’s your fault. Men always hate me because of you!”

“So happy to be staying here,” you mutter, kicking the door close as you help her stand upright.

“You ran your Father off, my other boyfriends-”

“Did ya eat tonight?”

“As if you give a fuck,” she scowls barely bothering to help you get her up the steps. “Jim is good man-”

“He’s done nothing but sing your praises all bloody night, he’s not goin’ anywhere. Now, stop being difficult and walk with me.”

“I can do it m’damn self!”

“As tempted as I am to let that happen, you’d break ya neck and I’d feel bad. Now, lets go.”

“Bitch.”

“I know,” you sigh.

Lacking both style and grace, you get her up the stairs and unceremoniously into the bed, helping her to get her shoes off as well as her shirt. By the time you pull the covers up over her, she’s snoring. You’re quick to get to the bathroom and fill up one of the disposable cups in there and grab two aspirin, before quickly and quietly making your way back into the bedroom and putting them down on her nightstand. Giving your small kiss on her temple, you quietly make your way out of the room and let out a deep breath. 

There’s no way you can stay here for the entire Summer.

With a look of pure pity written across his face, Jim asks, “are you okay?” once you’re back in the kitchen.

“Nothing I haven’t handled before,” you respond with a defeated smile. “I’ll be out of here by the time both of you are up.”

“Y/N-”

“She’ll be like this for the entire Summer if I stay, which will make the both of us miserable in return.”

“I can talk to her.”

“You’re sweet. I can see why she worked her magic on you.”

“Please-” “Thank you for doing the dishes and putting the food away. Don’t stay up too late,” you smile at him before getting on your tiptoes and giving him a small kiss on the cheek. “Good night, Jim. It was nice meeting you.”

You grab your phone off the table and make your way upstairs, laughing softly and shaking your head at your Mother’s snores which have grown much louder in the short amount of time it took you to get back upstairs. 

Plopping down on your bed with a heavy sigh, you unlock your phone and text the one person you can always count on.

Y/N: I’m sorry it’s so damn late, but would you be okay with me stayin’ with you for the Summer?

Cherry Bomb: Just put your goddaughter down. You know you’re always welcome here! Y/M/N being a cunt?

Y/N: I’ll tell you all about it in the mornin’. Love you and thank you.

Cherry Bomb: I should’ve been ya first stop ;) 

You laugh softly, placing your phone down on your nightstand and turning over to your side, doing your best to ignore the events of the day. You’re half asleep when you hear Jim make his up the stairs and join your Mother in the bedroom. 

‘Soon enough, all of this will be a distant memory,’ you think to yourself as you drift off to sleep.

If only that were true.

~~

[thatboreddrake]

How do you maintain hope? I keep seeing posts about it and I want to have that. I miss feeling like things might be okay

First off, my deepest apologies for taking so long to reply to this one. I wanted to make sure that I gave it its due attention, because it really is important.

Now, I feel like there's several layers to this one. Because 100%, it started for me from a perspective of "well someone's got to." I saw the people around me were hurting and wanted to do something about it. The way I settled on was to be that ray of hope, that person who truly believes that things can get better, that the best is yet to come.

But that's not enough, not anymore anyway. Because an ingrained part of that was the idea that my issues didn't matter. That I shouldn't talk with people about the things I was dealing with, because why should I add to their burden? They were already going through so much! But all that led me to was a growing melancholy and frustration with my own feelings.

And so, slowly but surely, I've started to open myself up to other people. To tell them about the things I was struggling with. And you know what they said? They certainly didn't minimize or dismiss my struggles, as I for years had worried that they would. No, when I expressed my feelings, that I shouldn't burden them with the things bothering me, they looked me in the eye and told me: "The fact that you're hurting is enough. It doesn't matter how small it is."

And as I've started to be more open on here, I've been fortunate enough to find like-minded people. My friends like @ivebeensetonfire and @minty-cheese who consistently reiterate that we are loved, and that we *will* make it through.

And there's definitely a part of me that still feels like I have to hold onto hope, otherwise I wouldn't be able to function. How could I ever move forward if I didn't believe that things could change for the better?

And this is definitely where my faith plays a part. For context, I was born and raised as a Christian, and I still hold that faith to be my own. Now, I certainly don't believe the same way that my parents do (I think I put a lot more weight in God's love and compassion than they do), but that doesn't mean that I'm no longer a Christian.

So yeah, I believe with absolute confidence that the best is yet to come. But I don't want that to just be some nebulous platitude of "someday the world will get better so I'll sit and wait for that day." No, Jesus calls Christians to love and serve people, to be His hands and feet in this world.

And so I hold on to hope. I offer a word of encouragement wherever I can. I lend a listening ear when it is needed because sometimes all someone needs is someone to hear their plight. And I strive not to counter with hollow positivity because I know that often all that does is twist the knife deeper. I know that sometimes, all you need is someone to say "I know that sucks. I'm here for you. Let's get through this together."

And seeing as you sent me this ask, I assume that you're probably one of my mutuals. So hear this and believe me: I love you. I'm here for you, and I want to do whatever I can to help you. I can't force positivity or hope, but I will continue to speak to it. So if you ever need love, encouragement, a kind word, a listening ear: we're here. Me, and many others like me.

I hope that that answered your question, if in a somewhat roundabout way. To be fully transparent, there are many days when I start to despair, feeling like I'll never be able to move beyond where I am now. All you can do is to take the next step. Because as long as we keep moving forward, I believe that we will see the sun rise again.

[thelaurenshippen]

How much of an impact has writing and consuming fanfiction had in your writing career?

I ask about fanfiction specifically because it's such an open communication sort of media, it's so easy for author and reader to interact. Do you think you'd write differently if you'd never been in the Fanfiction community? What do you think has carried over from those works and interactions into your current works?

ooh, such a fun question! I've never really thought about this before!

so I will admit, while I have been reading fanfiction since 2006, I never actually wrote fanfiction until 2018 (and then didn't share any of it until 2021). so I think those specific relationships affected my writing in very specific ways.

from a reading perspective, I think fanfic really showed me that a story can be anything, told in a million different kinds of ways. the two fandoms that I was deeply entrenched in/reading fic in were sherlock (lol) and the winter soldier (I stand by it). both of those fandoms - TWS especially - did a lot of very interesting stuff when it came to story structure, multimedia storytelling, etc. while of course there's great published fiction that does the same (I've been a huge David Mitchell stan since I was 20, I read House of Leaves for the first time a few years ago, A Series of Unfortunate Events is such a great example of this tbh), I think there's a lot of freewheeling experimentation in fanfiction that encouraged me to do things like write Some Faraway Place as a mix of journal entries, reddit posts, letters, and tumblr posts.

it's also interesting to me that you bring up the author/reader interaction, because you're right, it is such a huge part of fanfic and a part I rarely thought about for a looooong time. I'm a socially anxious lurker by nature, so I would leave comments (show your local fanfic writer some love!) and I would follow a lot of those writers, but I'd never, like, interact with them directly. and my comments were usually along the lines of "I'M FLINGING MYSELF DIRECTLY INTO THE SUN" rather than openings to conversations lol.

but that changed significantly when I started writing fic. the first fandom I wrote for was SO small and the ship I was writing for even smaller (I'm responsible for over half the fics in that tag), so there wasn't really any interaction there. but then I started writing in a different fandom - still small but much more active - and joined a discord and everything. I'm not really active anymore, but I met someone who now has become one of my best friends and who is a huge reason why Desperate Hollow, my queer outlaw novel, finally got fucking finished.

so being in fanfic really affected my writing in the sense that I found a writer friend who - like a lot of other writing friends - has had a profound affect on me as an artist. but more broadly, writing fic for that fandom - about 200k words of it in eight months - taught me some very important things:

how to write a lot of words very, very quickly

how to let go of something being perfect - no one knows who I am on ao3 and people are just happy to have fic for a small fandom, so it doesn't have to be GOOD

how to write physicality - this is very hard for me, even now. I'm an audio first person, I rarely think about what people look like, how they move their bodies, etc. writing fic is so helpful, because if you're using canon scenes, you don't have to come up with the blocking, you just have to figure out how to describe it.

dialogue/character voice - learning how to mimic a writer's style is good from two perspectives: one, you learn more about style and voice by having to unpack someone else's. two, as a writer working in a scripted medium, you often are trying to write to an established style, because you might be in a writer's room for a world that you didn't create.

this is a less tangible effect, but writing mature works for a fandom that has mostly morally gray characters helped me get more comfortable with being bolder in my own work. Desperate Hollow is about two men in the wild west, one of whom has killed a lot of people, and both of whom are career criminals. the show I'm working on currently has the messiest found family dynamic and it will only get messier. I think in the course of writing TBS, I sometimes got scared of doing the wrong thing, or of leaning too hard into the darker parts of the story, and I'm trying to let my characters and stories be deeply imperfect now.

I hope that answers your questions!

[holylulusworld]

Ruined

Summary: She ruined him in any way.

Pairing: TFATW!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: post-smut, implied smut, angst, cheating, self-loathing, Bucky feels not worth being loved, written in Bucky's PoV

AN: Square filled for Navy and Roo’s slumber party presents bingo @the-slumberparty: Writer's choice - angst

She left me there to rot in my sins and filth. The sheets were still stained with my seed, her juices, and sweat.

A reminder that she was really here with me out of all the guys in this too-crowded city.

My chest still heaves, and I can’t feel my legs as I run my hand over the spot she occupied some hours ago. Now it’s empty, and I feel hollow.

She came over me like a force of nature and broke the walls I built around my heart as if it were nothing.

One day I bumped into her and spilled my coffee over her summer dress. A white dress, making her look like an angel.

Since that godforsaken day, I lost my heart to her little by little. Now it only belongs to her, but she doesn’t belong to me.

No. There is this wonderful guy she always talks about. The man whose face I never want to see. Her heart and body belong to him.

I’m just … I don’t know what I am to her.

To me, she’s my sun, moon, and stars. My whole world.

I only live when she’s around. And when she’s gone, I barely exist.

Maybe I must accept fate. I don’t deserve a woman loving me in my life. Not after I destroyed so many lives.

I sigh and turn around to look out of the window. I still don’t have curtains. The windows are naked, like my body.

I don’t know when she left. Maybe after I slipped out of her one last time? I feel bad for the man she lies to. And I feel bad for myself.

Closing my eyes, I curl into a ball to protect myself from sniffing at the sheets to catch her scent. Goddamn higher senses. I can smell her on me, even if I don’t want to.

If only I was strong enough to stay away from her. But she’s like the right kind of poison running through my veins. She wrecks my system and makes me forget who I really am.

A broken man. A monster. A killer.

The man Steve used to look up to is long gone. I’m an empty shell. Nothing else.

Of course, a woman like her would never want me for more than a night of passion. How could she? I’m not the kind of man you take home and introduce to your parents and friends.

I roll onto my back to stare up at the ceiling. There is no use in thinking about her right now. She’s gone and will spend the next days, weeks, or even months pretending she didn’t screw my brains out last night.

I sigh at the tumult going on in my mind. Restlessness is not a stranger to me.

Maybe I should admit my defeat and just let her go.

The atmosphere changes when I turn to my side. I can feel her before she even steps inside the room.

Confused I watch her enter my bedroom. Well, it’s barely a bedroom. Only a mattress on the ground and a lamp. I don’t even have a nightstand or a wardrobe.

“I got breakfast,” she softly says, looking unsure for the first time since we met. She wears one of my shirts and a pair of shorts. I don’t know where she was hiding the shorts because last night she wore a dress, and her favorite black heels. “Coffee too.”

“Coffee,” I choke out. “That’s…great.”

“I thought we could talk,” Y/N steps toward the mattress to sit next to me. “I-I…” she places the bag filled with delicious-smelling breakfast on the mattress. “I broke things up with him two months ago.”

Inhaling sharply, I jolt up on the mattress, taking her by surprise. She squeals, and giggles as I sit next to her. Still stark naked.

“Uh-good morning to little Bucky too,” her laughter fills my senses, and damn my rotten heart beats faster than it should. “Sir, you should cover yourself.”

“What? I—” I drop my eyes to my lap, and chuckle. She’s not wrong. Little Bucky goes commando every time she’s around. “Sorry.”

“I’m flattered, really,” she grins now. “What do you think? Not about your morning glory but…”

“You broke up with him,” I question, “and never told me so.”

“I was afraid that you would pull away when I’m…available,” Y/N bites her index finger, a habit I learned to love. “He didn’t take it well, but this can’t be helped. It wasn’t right to cheat on him, but I love you. God, I love you so much it hurts not having you close.”

“You should’ve told me you broke up with him. I don’t have much,” I look around my bedroom, sighing deeply. “But all I got is yours.”

She dips her head to look at me. Oh, I know that look. “If you offer your heart and little Bucky to me, I’m game…”

Y/N will end up underneath me for the rest of the day, breakfast and coffee long forgotten.

I still feel guilty for stealing another man’s woman, but the heart wants what it wants…

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[sir-adamus]

this isn't directed at anyone specifically, as this is a sentiment i've seen a lot, but i think some people were expecting some kind of catharsis in regards to Neo being punished or just straight up dying in the volume 9 finale because they don't personally like and are therefore dismissive of the character; and then making claims that it was bad writing that she didn't get the shit kicked out of her and was then killed, but instead getting to bow out gracefully and taking the first step to improve on herself and find herself again (which, i have to say, is not a redemption, the claims of 'bad writing' always paint it as such which is weird to me - it's like, the start, at best)

and i've been seeing this sentiment for months and, from the perspective of someone who never really had an issue with the character and liked the way she was handled, every time i've always had the same question of like, is it bad? or do you just not like it? cos let's be real that's been a major, major problem in this fandom for years, and even the people who complain about it coming from the loud vocal minority are often guilty of similar behaviour, just in more 'acceptable' ways

there was this really good post i reblogged the other day, which i'll link here, which basically covers my general feelings on this in regards to media in general, but in specific regard to the show;

a) the main characters' priorities have never been on personal payback, and neither has the show's (which it makes a point with several times, with Yang and Blake giving Adam multiple opportunities to stop and just leave as just an example, which he doesn't take), so there's no reason for them to go after Neo when she's no longer a threat

b) by the time WBY would've had the opportunity to 'punish' Neo for everything she did, Neo was possessed, and in the aftermath of that, was no longer hostile to them because of the events leading up to her getting possessed in the first place

RWB/Y is a show with lots of thematic resonance, we see parallels and layers and one of the major themes in the show is grief, and how you handle it; in the Ever After, Neo serves as a microcosm of Salem - she lost the one positive (though ultimately co-dependent and not particularly healthy) relationship she had after a horrible childhood of isolation and instead of coming to terms with her grief, she dedicates herself to revenge (which was her characterisation click moment when she returned in volume 6, as that return actually gave her motivations and a goal, versus how she was in volumes 2 and 3, where she was just kinda there and didn't have all that much to her) and it consumes her, so when she actually does get that revenge she wanted, instead of there being any kind of catharsis, she's just left hollow and empty because she has nothing left, which leaves her open to getting possessed by the Cat

but after being freed from possession, Neo has no reason to keep fighting because of that prior realisation, and comes to the conclusion that she needs to move on, with the best opportunity to do so being letting the Tree help her. and this is what loops back to the post i linked; Neo is given the option to stop and change and she takes it

does it come too late? sure - but by the same note, better late than never. besides, the Ever After is a fairytale world where the normal rules don't apply, so 'late' isn't as damning as it would've been