#but I hate rough drafts!!

[theshadowrealmitself]

I can’t remember what canon is like (and there’s so many different versions of canon anyways) but there’s a lot of Spiderman fics where he’s talking to someone he knows as both Peter Parker and Spiderman but they don’t know his secret and there’ll be this lil convo where they’re like “oh did you talk to [his other identity] about that?”

And a good majority of the time he’ll say yes instead of pretending like the two identities just never interact

And I just really really want to know how people think those convos go, like do they think they’re friendly to each other? do they think Peter harasses Spiderman like the paparazzi harass stars? do they think Peter’s just trying to get a couple of pics and Spidey traps him to have someone to tell all his jokes to?

How do people imagine those conversations going???

[stxrshxpxd]

“i can hardly breathe around you”

paring: 90s damon albarn x reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: smut

prompt: reader finds herself in an inappropriate dream about her oldest and best friend, and when she moans his name he responds.

I was somewhere between sleeping and waking and Damon’s hands were keeping me in my dream, wrapping tightly around my waist as his lips attached to my neck. I squirmed under him, panting and moaning in desperation for more, and when his fingers squeezed my flesh harder I let out a whimper of his name. For a few seconds it all felt right. He continued kissing down my neck, until he suddenly replied and everything ripped from me in an instant. His hands, his lips, his breath on my skin, all gone.

“Y/N?” my best friend of fifteen years asked in a soft voice and stared me down from next to me on my bed. He grimaced with confusion and concern. Reality flooded back to me in a heartbeat and I remembered we had been watching TV on my bed, we had both gradually lost interest, he had muted it and picked up his book, and I had slipped into a nap. Then I had moaned his name and clearly not just in my dreams.

“Yes?” I breathed, deciding to play dumb.

“Care to share your dream?” Damon asked, eyes fixed on me and book splayed open against his chest. Some amusement had joined the confusion in his face. My pulse quickened.

I quite literally couldn’t find in my brain what to say to him and all I could do was watch the emotions evolve in his expressions.

I had been beating myself up for a while because something had happened about a month ago and I had completely lost my mind, I thought. Seeing my best friend in a non-platonic light was simply unthinkable. But, gosh, that soft stare of his and that bottom lip gently caught between his teeth!

“Will you close your eyes?” he asked after too long a silence on my end.

I stared at him instead, for a long time, barely breathing. He asked again and I recognised something stirring wildly in his gaze. I couldn’t remember anything ever having been this serious between us before. It frightened me and I resorted to doing what he asked of me.

With my breath shallow and shaky and eyes softly closed, at last I felt Damon’s lips gently press against mine. My brain stopped working for a minute but then the only thing I could think to do was to reach my hand out, finding his chest was rid of the book and it was turning towards me. Closer, closer, closer. Until my hand was locked between our beating chests and he was determinedly kissing down my jaw and neck.

I wanted his lips everywhere on me and I blushed wildly at the thought. I had been doing a fine job at suppressing all these emotions for the last month, but he was making it really hard for me now.

“Damon,” I started when his lips jumped to my lower stomach and his fingers began to hook into my waistband. He glanced up from under his golden fringe and my stomach fluttered at the eye contact. My toes were twitching wildly with nerves and excitement. Really I didn’t want him to stop for even a second, but it was all so weird.

He simply smiled calmly at me and kissed my skin again while my sweatpants were pulled down my legs. That smile of his had calmed me so many times before and for the next moment I felt at ease. I even closed my eyes and let a half shaky but deep breath out, and I allowed his warm palms to spread my thighs apart.

“My god, you’re wet,” he whispered, astounded. “Dream-me is that good, huh?”

I laughed but my cheeks burned with embarrassment, impulsively trying to close my legs again and reaching to push his shoulders away. But he stayed and firmly held my legs apart.

“Hey, it’s me,” Damon reminded me in a smooth voice.

“Exactly!” I laughed nervously, finding it nearly impossible to get past the absurdity of having my best friend’s breath fan over my damp underwear while his hands clasped around the inside of my thighs. God, his hands though!

“Exactly,” he echoed in a quiet voice and raised his brows. I knew he was referring to my moaning his very name in my sleep just minutes ago, and I sighed.

Within seconds his lips were back on me again but this time they kissed me through my pants and I thought my heart jumped out of my chest for a moment. He did it again. And again. And he added more pressure and then his tongue. I screwed my eyes shut and at last couldn’t feel anything past the pleasure. For the next few minutes I could hardly recall the embarrassment, as he peeled my underwear to the side and once again buried his face in me.

“Do you wanna say my name again?” Damon tried his luck as I had begun breathing heavily and letting little moans out. His voice vibrated through my abdomen and I felt a hint of my high teasing me momentarily.

“Damon,” I whispered cautiously and felt his teeth against my hot skin as he grinned.

“Mhm,” he murmured into me again and continued lapping up my wetness with his skilled tongue, pushing me towards my edge.

“I’m gonna…” I whined but felt the embarrassment come over me again. “Fuck.. Dames!”

Calling him by his sweet nickname made me cringe for a second, but he continued smirking through his kissing and licking and sucking and I couldn’t stop my thighs from clasping around his head. The orgasm pierced through my body, making my legs tremble and my voice settle in a defeated whimper.

Quickly reality caught up with me again once I made it out of the haze and I was partly mortified as my oldest and best friend kissed up my body again and his lips reconnected with mine.

We spent an eternity kissing between shaky breaths and in my head I yelled at my cheeks until they eventually cooled a tad.

“Can we really do this?” I asked in a barely audible whisper.

“I don’t know if you were here just now but we just did,” he teased and we both laughed, my eyes still closed and our mouths constantly balancing between kissing and breathing.

“Yeah, I guess we did.”

A minute passed of slightly more kissing than breathing and then it evened out again.

“Did you know lately I can hardly breathe around you?” I whispered and barely felt his lips curl into a smirk. I peaked at it slightly but made sure not to look him in the eye.

“Yeah, I noticed,” he mumbled with his smirk widening and a chuckle pouring out of him and into me. I smiled and laughed gently too.

Damon slid off of me but just about everything of his stayed touching me and his head laid just next to mine, noses grazing. There was only breathing for the better half of a minute. At last I felt our familiar comfortable silence coming back to us. I stared at his face and studied his eyes, brows, cheeks and nose and lips. Then my gaze drifted to the ledge where the wall met the ceiling and I let my mind wander to more trivial territory for a breather.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“I’m worried what my hair will look like tomorrow if I wear it in a bun to bed,” I answered honestly and instantly I felt the hot breath of his laughter hit my face. We chuckled together and he smiled back at me with twinkling eyes.

“See, this is us!” he insisted. “We still talk about silly things and laugh. Only we have sex too.”

My cheeks flushed red again but I couldn’t stop smiling. I reached my hand out to poke my fingertips around in the side of his hair and let another few moments pass as I pondered.

“Could we also… hold hands?” I suggested, stomach fluttering anxiously again. “And kiss?”

Damon gave me a slight nod.

“And not kiss other people?”

At that his smile grew and he was quick to respond.

“I can’t remember what it’s like kissing anyone else.”

A laugh bubbled inside me and my hand caught his cheek and pressed our lips together again.

“Good job. That was the right answer,” I mumbled into our kiss.

[trensu]

Have an itty bitty tiny piece of stasis in darkness, just so you all have an idea of where the story is going after the godly reveal. and also have proof that i am, in fact, still toiling away at this (as well as hawkins halfway house.)

A week and a half later, Steve entered a town he’d never seen before. He wore simple traveling clothes and carried no weapons aside from a couple of carefully hidden knives. He’d left his armor and shield behind. His satchel held only the essentials one needed for travel and a single stone as large as his fist. The stone was wrapped in layers of cloth to keep it safe during the journey. 

I need you to find someone. 

He felt very bare but he hadn’t been given much of a choice. Speed was of the essence for his quest, and little no-name towns tended to be wary of strangers in plain clothes, even more so around strangers decked out for battle. Steve wasn’t sure this place could be called a town. It was so small it hadn’t been on any official map. It didn’t even have an inn. Hopefully, Steve wouldn’t be needing an inn once he found who he was looking for.

He’s too far from me to reach.

He asked around, laying on the charm generously. He explained he had been a friend of a friend and had been trusted to deliver something. Eventually, he was told where to go. The house he found far beyond the village’s boundary was small. It looked like it had once been well cared for but it was old and had fallen to disrepair. Steve took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

A sallow old man opened the door. He was bald but had some scruff on his face still. His shoulders, stooped from age, trembled. His eyes were bloodshot. He looked so tired.

He’s my very last worshiper in all the world.

“Wayne Munson?” Steve asked.

“Who wants to know?” The man’s voice was phlegmy and rough. He coughed into the crook of his elbow almost before he could finish speaking. 

“I’m Steve. Ser Steve Harrington, pledged to the Lord of Night.”

Wayne’s eyes widened. His grip on the open door weakened and slipped. Steve caught the door before it could hit Wayne.

“He sent me to you,” Steve explained. “May I come in?”

yep, that's it for now. i told you it was small. i'm not even gonna bother with a read-more here.

[mimikyusrealform]

Writing a Spencer Reid x Unsub!Reader because I have no self-control, and I want to write but I can't put out a single sentence for the other 100 WIPs I have.

[thegeminisage]

😭😭😭

[possamble]

i feel like i need a transfem sensitivity reader at this point but i have nothing to offer as compensation lmfao

[ray-stingray]

A small writing draft of an AU I’m working on for COTL

(ALSO PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS IS STILL A DRAFT NOT THE ACTUAL THING, IT MAY BE CONFUSING AND KINDA CRINGY AT PARTS ☠️ please don’t steal my ideas [even if they r complete dog💩]😞)

N = Narinder

L = Lamb

Script:

______________________________________

N:

(kneeling, defeated)

“When I donned the crown, I thought I was invincible—untouchable. A god among mortals. No one could challenge me apart from my fellow gods.

But now, as I kneel before you, powerless and broken, I see it: my greatest mistake was you. My creation, my weapon, my undoing.

My own vessel who became a god. Before you strike the final blow, I need to understand—why? Why betray me? Why destroy everything we built?”

L:

“I didn’t betray you. I surpassed you.

You never understood—escaping you wasn’t enough. I wanted to free the world. A world without gods, where mortals can live without fear.”

(pauses, then grimly)

“But when I killed the youngest bishop, something shifted. The fear in their eyes… raw, desperate…

In their final moments, it was intoxicating. Beautiful.”

N:

“And so you killed more. Did it make you feel powerful? Did it feed your hunger?”

L:

“No. It didn’t satisfy me. It only made me crave more.

With every soul I took, I grew stronger. Until I faced the most powerful.

When the strongest bishop fell—trembling, broken—I felt their soul shatter. Their fear, their surrender—it was like a drug.

Every death… more thrilling. More divine. I became addicted. Closer to something greater than power… closer to becoming a god myself.”

(pauses)

“And now nothing can stop me.”

N:

“You became a monster. Worse than the very gods you sought to destroy.”

L:

“Monster? No. I am freedom. The end of everything that once towered over me.”

(stepping closer)

“You, who once ruled as a god, never saw how fragile you were. Now, I’ve taken everything from you—your divinity, your immortality.

Soon, you will be gone.”

N:

“Wait—I am still useful! Please spare me—I will teach you!”

N tries to stand, but due to his crushed legs and arm he fails.

L:

“Look at you—pathetic and powerless. I have gained everything, there is no more you can teach me. I became more than you—more than any god could ever dream to be.”

(leans in, voice colder)

“And now, you will join your siblings—erased, wiped from existence… just as you will be.”

N:

“Please—at least let me have an afterlife! Don’t erase me!”

L:

“There is no afterlife waiting for you.”

L obliterates N by altering his atoms into nothing.

L:

“Goodbye, my lord.”

______________________________________

End of script thingy

I think I might be planning on naming this AU as “No mercy,” but I’m not sure…if people actually like this idea then I might go more into it 👍

Also idk if some of the writing is repetitive, it might be I kinda just thought of this idea now 🗿

If this doesn’t do well I might actually tweak out

[ace-and-ink]

i hate being

so desperate for love. sometimes i feel

like i’m in fourth grade again, forcing myself

to have crushes on the boys

in my math class because this is what everyone was

talking about: all my friends,

all my books, all the movies, all the songs.

suddenly i’m telling myself again

that this is what it’s supposed to feel

like, that this is natural like i wasn’t

staring at myself in the mirror to practice

my best “oh no, you’ve caught me!” face

for when i try to shift the conversation

to announce the very real crush to assure

that yes, this is normal, i am normal. like i haven’t

stated at my cheeks to see

if they go red, at my pupils

to see if they dilate. it hurts

more when it’s not a discussion

of sexuality. it hurts more now

that i’ve actually known love. everyone’s

in love. i was in love. it’s embarrassing

that i don’t know how to not be

loved. i never grew out of playing pretend,

so maybe i’ll be soothed if she at least smiles

and says it nice enough when we know

she doesn’t. she doesn’t have to

tell me that. i won’t tell her

about the A. we’ll pretend we care

for a month at best, a week at worst, then i’ll go back

to searching the shallow seas

for an ankle i was meant to

latch on and leech from.

— i was born crying, begging for a gentle hand

[ganondoodle]

i really need to defeat the fear in my head that i am exactly the kind of villain fan that the vast majority seems to despise and that once it becomes clear im gonna get hunted down like i have been before

[diamondsandtoads]

EVERY time I write I HATE what I'm writing while I am writing it. But afterwards???? I'm always like 'yeah, this is okay' to 'WOW this is AMAZING. BRILLIANT. PHENOMENAL.'

how do I overcome the feeling of shit while writing???????? is it just the weight I must bear??????

[latestageyouth]

i imagine that while under the influence of the precursors, newt fell into a very doomsday cult-esque mentality, his perception distorted due to the isolation he had gone through.

i think the precursors didnt even have to do much to get newton to isolate himself. past a certain point, he just got into such a mental state that he started doing that on his own for the "safety" of his loved ones, and because the thought of them finding out about the precursors drifting with him and using him like an involuntary spy was unbearable to him.

i think that more than newt establishing a bond with the precursors, he instead placed trust into their plans of the world ending. a very like, milleniarism perspective, bc of all the stuff they fed to him over the course of years.

the precursors carried such a conviction of their plans into the drift that newt got subconsciously infected with it

[ftmsimonriley]

they should've killed soap off in december so ghost can be even more tormented by the holiday season

[pixelkoko]

A tiny draft; a taste of.. failure? I've learned from artists of all kinds in my life that.. perfectionism kills art. Being a perfectionist, like most of those people, I can't help but loathe every single thing I write. I've never been told it was bad, never been told I shouldn't write — I shouldn't hate it so much. I have about 15 completed novels, just shelved and never to see the light of day because of my own self confidence and the fact I hate them all.

The Colosseum buzzes with life. In the emperor’s box, Cassianus leans forward, his laurel crown catching the sunlight. He wears power like a second skin, every inch of him a ruler. Below, the sand shifts beneath the feet of the gladiators, their weapons clashing in a symphony of violence. The crowd roars, hungry for blood, but Cassianus’s expression is unreadable. He sits as still as a statue, his gaze fixed on the arena. To his side, senators murmur, their eyes darting toward him, their whispers venomous. Cassianus exhales slowly, his fingers tightening around the armrest of his chair. The throne is heavy, and the weight of the people’s hunger presses against his chest.

-

In an open-air amphitheater surrounded by olive trees, Aristides stands before a crowd of eager students. The sun is high, casting sharp shadows across the carved stone seats. His voice is measured but passionate as he explains the nature of justice, his hand tracing shapes in the dirt to illustrate his ideas. His students nod, enthralled, but on the outskirts of the gathering, a small group of older men watches with narrowed eyes. One steps forward, his voice sharp.

“Your ideas are dangerous, Aristides.”

Aristides meets his gaze without flinching, his lips curving into a faint smile.

“The truth often is,” he replies, and the murmurs rise again, dividing the crowd. The tension is palpable, but Aristides turns back to his students, his chalk-stained fingers drawing another line in the dirt.

-

The speakeasy hums with jazz, the air thick with cigarette smoke and secrets. Augustus lounges in a corner booth, a glass of bourbon in one hand and a deck of cards in the other. Around him, the room is alive with laughter and whispered deals, but Augustus’s attention is elsewhere. Across the table, a man slides a briefcase toward him, its contents gleaming under the dim light.

“Everything’s in place,” the man says.

Augustus nods, his grin sharp.

“Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

But his fingers linger on the edge of the briefcase, his mind already calculating every possible way this could go wrong. He leans back, exuding confidence, but beneath the table, his leg bounces, betraying the restlessness brewing within him.

-

Beneath a canopy of cherry blossoms, Takeshi kneels before his lord, his armor gleaming in the dappled sunlight. The air is still, save for the faint rustle of petals falling like snow. His lord speaks softly, praising his loyalty, but Takeshi’s gaze drifts to the horizon, where storm clouds gather. He bows deeply, the weight of his duty settling heavily on his shoulders. Around him, his comrades prepare for battle, their laughter and murmured prayers blending with the distant song of a flute. Takeshi’s hand rests on the hilt of his sword, his resolve unshakable even as unease stirs in his chest.

-

The candle flickers, casting long shadows across the room. Percival sits hunched over his desk, his quill scratching against parchment. The words flow like a river, spilling onto the page faster than he can capture them. Around him, books and loose papers form an unsteady fortress, their spines worn and their pages dog-eared. He pauses, staring at the lines he’s written, his chest tightening with a longing he can’t name. The rain taps softly against the window, and for a moment, he closes his eyes, imagining a life beyond these walls. When he opens them, the candlelight reflects in his dark eyes, burning with the quiet fire of someone who feels too much.

-

The battlefield stretches endlessly, a sea of wounded men and broken flags. Eleanor moves quickly through the chaos, her hands steady as she bandages a soldier’s arm. Blood stains her apron, but she doesn’t falter, her voice soft and soothing as she reassures the young man trembling beneath her touch. Around her, the cries of the dying fill the air, but Eleanor doesn’t let them reach her heart. She steps outside the makeshift tent for a moment, her breath catching in her throat as she stares at the rising sun. It’s beautiful in a way that feels cruel, a stark contrast to the horrors behind her. She presses a hand to her stomach, feeling the faint ache of exhaustion, and whispers to herself, “Just a little longer.”

-

Across these lands and centuries, they live—separated by time but connected by threads unseen. In the rise and fall of empires, in the clash of steel and the ink-stained pages of history, their stories unfold. They are rulers, thinkers, lovers, fighters.

And though they do not know it yet, their lives are bound together, destined to echo across the ages.

[sluckythewizard]

SHHH SH HEYYY HEY DONT TELL ANYONE BUT... ive been workin on smth since BITB came out..... itsa lil musical animatic involvin kian and becky.... ITS NO WHERE NEAR DONE YET but loooook look im puttin lil screenshots under the cut. its supposed to go along with Am I In Heaven? by King Gizzard n the Lizard Wizard. infact yknow what cmere come sit with be bc ALOT of songs from the 'IM IN YOUR MIND FUZZ' album makes me think about becky and kian. oh my god. those two make me so damn emotional. like Her and I was the first one to rly resonate with me, and EMPTY was another good one, all just stuff about. yknow LOVE!! doomed by the narrative yet burning SO SO brightly in its last moments, holding hands, playing music, THEY WERE SO IN LOVE WITH YOU THAT THE COPY OF THEM LOVED YOU, AND YOUR COPY LOVES THEM TOO. WHAT A BEAUTIFUL, CRUMBLING, BURNING, HISSING, SQUIRMING, MELTING, CLICKING LOVE STORY..

GET OVER HERE N SCREAM WITH MEEE I LOVE SCREAMING ABOUT THINGS

[shroombat14]

Happy late Valentine's Day y'all

[chimerawrites]

Il Predestinato

Pushing the pedal till it smashes on the floor. I want to feel the breeze and the adrenaline. Going so fast my eyes and my brain can't keep up. It's hard to breathe. Till my heart tries to match the speed of the wheels and I feel my chest compressing with the force.

Risking my life for an empty trophy,

money?

Maybe for the fame…

Going hundreds of miles per hour so my name is remembered. Building a legacy that will outlive me. Till I make this sport my own. I make myself the best, for I will become the greatest.

But people hate it. People spit their venoms at me when I stand with the gold in my hands. I reached the top of the Everest and all they want is to push me down the hill.

The adrenaline makes me deaf. I can't hear them booing. Not even the roar of the engine. They hate me, I work so hard to give them a show and this is the thanks I get. I did all I could to be remembered.

I might just crash my car against a wall. Wait for the gasoline to fill my body and the flames to make my bones into ashes.

After all, you only become a legend once you are dead.