#but it's a story every day adjacent haha

[oediex]

Listen, friend, I've been going through the deepest depressive bout in the last four months that I've been through in a long time. My life has been anything but vibrant. I remember telling my therapist about these daily stories I started writing sometime in January or February, and telling her how difficult it was doing so when I was barely living. I felt like I had nothing to write about. But I made a commitment, so I struggled on.

If you go back to my stories in January, when I came fresh out of a crisis in December, you will see what I mean. I spent most of that month crying my eyes out, staying in bed, not leaving the house, keeping the curtains shut.

I've been writing about depression, suicidal ideation, anxiety, and my chronic back pain a lot. These were all, often, rants. And often, I wrote about them on that day because nothing else noteworthy happened. I probably didn't even leave the house.

One day, my story was that maybe there are days when there is no story. Because I literally didn't have a story that day. It was a day in depression like any other.

My idea of starting these came to me in December - after I had had my crisis, might I add, when I was already spending days with cheeks streaked dry from the hot tears I couldn't keep inside because I felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest - when I read about someone saying "there is a story every day if you look for it". I unfortunately don't remember where I read that, it was somewhere on the internet, and I think it was from a writer, but I couldn't find it again even if I tried. But that's the spirit. There is a story every day if you look for it.

Anyway. What I mean is. Sometimes it's just rants. That's fine. My stories are sometimes about encounters I have, or pondering on the beauty of nature when I can convince my mind to go outside, or family and friends when I find the energy to meet up with them. But often they are rants about things that I'm thinking about. Depression. Anxiety. Chronic pain. Veganism. Gaming. Loneliness. Friendship.

I think it's quite telling that my life seems vibrant to you. It doesn't to me. I feel stagnant. I feel stuck and lost and don't see a future. I can barely get anything done. I feel like my mind is just dragging me down and the world is passing by before my eyes but I'm not part of it.

I think maybe the lesson here is that there is vibrancy in all of us, even if it is just the internals of our mind. And this is an exercise in finding it.

It's also an exercise in writing, and there are days when I think of it in that way. Sometimes I know what I'll write about. I write a few paragraphs and I'm unhappy about it. So I restart and go at it from another angle. And that can spice it right up.

Some days, what I write is shit. I'll often reflect on that in the tags. ("I don't like how I've written about that, but at least it's a story" or "look it's not in me today" or "not sure I like this but there it is".) But then I think - that's fine. It's an exercise. It's a first draft. If I ever want to make this into something else, I have this to fall back on!

Other days, I love what I've written. It's powerful and playful in wording and maybe a bit poetic. There's symmetry or alliteration or some kind of moral at the end or whatever. And rants? Rants are really really good for that.

Speaking of, that last paragraph? Absolutely amazing. I love it. It's so beautifully put. "i sought safety in my stolen shreds of power"? "guarded by bitter pride on one side and by constricting apathy on the other"? Fucking gold.

Keep at it. Find the stories. And if nothing seems to be happening, write about nothing. I've written stories about opening my curtains. About the meditativeness of wiping the floor instead of vacuuming. About to do lists????

Just keep showing up.

already missed a daily story yesterday- ill continue my thoughts from last night here

i was a little worried going into this challenge because oediex's life seemed so much more vibrant than mine- she is like. a human, who does things. but even on the days when not much happened to them, she still wrote a little story about something. which is something i will need to learn to do quickly, unless i rapidly start doing things.

(the other possibility is that the commitment to write about something will pressure me to do more interesting or productive things. i was banking on this outcome and so far it has not been uh. remotely tangible. um)

i feel so stagnant here. i've trapped myself in a cage of my own nebulous, contradictory ideals. i have the resources to do whatever i want, but they are guarded by bitter pride on one side and by constricting apathy on the other. i started the clock that would doom me and now i sit and watch it tick downward without the will to do anything else. i sought safety in my stolen shreds of power, but i still rely entirely on the wretched sympathy of my betrayers.

[koolades-world]

Hey! I'm sorry if your (inbox, is it called?" Is closed, I just read your little story on how the brothers would react to an MC with a British accent.I was wondering if you could do a reaction to a Puerto Rican MC? Again, I'm sorry if your inbox is closed.

OMG HI inbox is open no worries!

so excited for this!! had to do a double take at first. I'm actually half puerto rican half indian! weird combo i know BUT I absolutely love this request! sometimes it's hard for me to be positive about my background and who I am. usually any mention of my race or ethnicity feels like a knife to the back, but I'm so excited for my chance to be happy about who I am

I know it just came in but as soon as I saw this I knew I had to write it right away! this is something that has every puerto rican gene in my body infused into it and despite being so short, it probably has some of the most love i've probably ever put into a piece of writing

thank you :))) please enjoy

Puerto Rican Mc

Lucifer

at first, it doesn't mean a lot to him since you're not that close yet

but later on, he begins to understand why you're so proud of your background

he totally understands being loud and proud about who you are and not being afraid to shy away from others about it

any demon who comments on this negatively vanishes mysteriously

Mammon

bonding over being poc and being able to share the struggle with each other

you understand each other and he knows what it feel like to look around and realize you're the only poc in the room. you're not alone with him by your side

lots of sweet moments and tears shared together and an inseparable bond

at the end of the day, you have each other <3

Levi

once you get close, he introduces you to all of his favorite puerto rican characters

admires how protective and loyal you are of those you're close to

values you so dearly

he doesn't regret opening up to you because it was the best choice he ever made

Satan

he begins to collect books he'd think you'd like written by puerto rican authors or have puerto rican characters because he knows how excited you'll get

he goes out of his way to introduce you to his favorite puerto rican adjacent restaurant in the devildom

takes you on plenty of trips to the human world to experience home again if you need it or just to eat good food

could listen to you talk for hours about why being puerto rican is great

Asmo

think the fact that you speak spanish (or some) is so hot (a/n: I myself speak very little haha)

immediately asks you to teach him some and to say something that sounds sexy even if it's not actually

gifts you all sorts of things that either have the puerto rican flag or have the same colors as the puerto rican flag, like clothes or little trinkets

acts as your personal cheerleader whenever you need it

Beel

loves the culinary journey you take him on through your culture

he especially loves coquito and limber (a/n: my personal favs)

asks you to teach him how to make several puerto rican dishes that practically makes your heart explode with joy

he knows food is always a huge part of the culture and in honored you showed him all the ins and outs

Belphie

likes to poke fun at you from time to time to see how defensive you'll get

you poke fun at him right back with lots of cow jokes

you two playfight a lot, usually with you being victorious maybe because he let you

however, there's always room for you under his covers where ever he might be

[candy-floss-consumer]

Hello every-sprout! My most recent event!fic was supposed to be my last one of the year, but when @zelda-the-sacred-realm announced an artist/writer event for their wonderful comic, I really couldn’t resist!

My event piece is based largely on the presently available chapters of the comic. I saw the weeping goddess statue in Chapter 2, Part 7 and the writing creature in my brain immediately began frothing at the mouth. This short story takes place shortly before the beginning of the main comic, with a lot of foreshadowing toward certain parts of said comic.

I know there is a lot of available information, but I wrote most of this before remembering that the archive existed, haha. (I did take a peak at the post of how ToTK may affect the story, though, given that I chose dondons as their ranch animal of choice.)

*As a note, as there are sentient Lizalfos seen in Chapter 2, Part 5, I played with the idea of different, kinder Lizalfolk who have no desire to be manipulated by the cycle of darkness.

I sincerely hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Looking forward to how the rest of the Sacred Realm legend plays out! Much love 💕

SUMMARY:

Goddess Hylia has shed her tears for many of her children. The Goddess statues dotting Hyrule’s vast landscape and the statuettes held in many hands bring those tears into the mortal realm in order to heal wounds. According to legend, only the pleas of the righteous can bring them forth. But unknown to all, now that her powers have waned, only a Spirit of the Hero can reach her.

Still, the Goddess has other ways to help her people.

[Submission under the cut:]

a bit of warmth to you

a Zelda: The Sacred Realm Event!fic

     The tears of the Goddess had always been known to heal. Brought into the mortal realm by the statues made in her image, the myths surrounding the miraculous substance were nigh infinite. Fables that—in ancient times—ensured that any traveller with a shred of faith kept a statuette on their person. For safety. For assurance. For the day that they were brought to their knees. 

Or worse.

Pala’s great-grandma still kept one in her pocket on rainy days. On the desolate nights that her mother, Great-Great Grandma Cala, had marked the old cycle of the Blood Moon. Even now Pala could understand why she did it. On nights like those, every kind of ghost story felt real. 

She remembered snuggling up to Grams’ side in the old, creaky sofa still kept here in the summer house, a shiver barely touching the tip of her spine. The blinds to the window the sofa was placed adjacent to were cracked open just enough to see a sliver of the moon. Haunting as it was beautiful. Back then, her knees, young and knobby, would knock against her great-grandma’s with every fearful jolt. But Grams never said a word. Her gaze would flicker only from the statuette next to the old, weathered journal on the table to the silent vision of the moon above.

The sight of the eternally weeping goddess still stuck to the back of her mind, despite the many years that had passed since then.

She had gifted one to Pala at the end of her fifteenth summer. And despite Pala herself holding little belief in its power, she could not deny the comfort that the sight of the little statuette brought.

Unlike her great-grandma’s personal carving, this one was made of ivory. Likely sourced from a horn shedding one of their bucks had shucked off two winters before. Dondons were easy like that. Once their horn was detached, the shedding was no more important to them than a mildly interesting rock. Grandpa Dan had always claimed that was why their family had picked up ranching them. The horns were valuable. Easy to obtain if someone did it right. And dondons themselves were amicable animals.

The carving of the statuette was not shoddy by any means. It was actually quite beautiful. Made with more detail and skill than she had expected from her great-grandmother, given her arthritis. But Pala could tell there was a slight difference between hers and the one made of old kokiri wood Grams always carried.

Namely, the lack of tear tracks scorched into its face.

Even now she can picture the strangely perfect markings burnt into aged kokiri wood. Symmetrical. Down to the stray tear on either cheek. An impossible feat for human hands. The ivory statuette tucked away in the pouch at her hip had no such detail. 

But she knew better than to ask.

Pala rolled her shoulders, warding off the stiffness she could feel threatening to seep in. She needed to get moving anyhow. Heaven knows what Grams would say if she saw her still loitering around the front door at this hour. The sun was already tipping past the horizon line as it was.

She finished adjusting her breeches, tapping the heels of her boots a few times to get them fitting just right. Once everything was snug, she pushed the door open and stepped out into the cool morning air. It wouldn’t last for long, given the natural humidity in this region, but it was the best way to start the day. It made the gradual increase in heat more bearable. To Pala, at least.

She marched off the porch, grabbing a sputter lantern as she did so. Even with the sun pulling the sky into hues of purple and pink, the old stallhouse in the paddock hardly had an open ‘window’ for it to show through.

Their field in Upper Faron was quite a bit of land. It was less open than the one down near Lurelin, but it still had plenty of room. Most of the crowding came from the native flora. Crawling thickets and towering durian trees made it feel as if someone had built a low roof over the whole place. Not that the dondons cared any. They were short, heavyset animals with plenty of food to eat at their eye level. As far as they were concerned, the local thickets were an all-you-can-eat buffet. Another point of ease in their care, really.

Pala grunted as Lunal, the heifer in the stall closest to her, bumped into her keg with an unhappy snort.

“Fine, fine,” she placated, smoothing her hand over the beast’s blunt snout, “I get it. It’s scrub time.”

Lunal gave her the best estimation of a droll look that a dondon could perform. It was quite impressive actually. Pala shook her head with a laugh, lifting her scrub brush up to the beast’s back and getting to work.

══════════════════

     Pala looked down the field toward the river at the sound of a familiar shout. It was now about midday, and the sunlight easily permeated through the surrounding flora, allowing her to see. There, on the other side, was a quickly approaching Lizalfolk woman. As she grew closer, the clearer her features became. 

It was Talon. A Lizalfolk fisherwoman who had been a friend of the family for decades. Since around the time Great-Great Grandma Cala was girl, if she remembered right. Pala often thought of her as a sort of maternal figure. She was a mature woman. Confident and sturdy. 

Pala watched as she climbed up the small incline in a few short leaps. Almost as if she was in a rush. Pala had never seen her move so quick outside of fishing.

“Get Erta,” Talon grunted as she came to a stop in front of her. The panic that reflected in her eyes was unusual. Pala’s stomach twisted at the sight of it. When she hesitated, Talon frowned. “Now, Palais.” 

The intensity of her voice was alarming. But Pala nodded anyway and turned on her heel, rushing to the house. 

It felt like an omen. Like a warning. Briefly, she wondered about the town. About Hyrule itself. Hopefully, the royal family had received a warning as well. They were kind, as far as Pala knew. And they ruled well. It didn’t sit right with her that only she and her family would know. 

Though she wasn’t sure how they would be told about whatever was happening, but she was sure they could find out somehow. There was no way a bunch of dondon ranchers would be the only ones in Hyrule to be warned. 

Besides, didn’t heroes show up in times like this? It certainly felt like they should. Pala had never felt so nervous in her life.

She felt out of breath by the time she made it to the house. The door was already open, the muffled sound of Gram’s low voice easily heard. She sped inside.

Grams turned at the sound of her footsteps. She took one look at Pala’s face and frowned, sighing as she retrieved her cane.

“Talon—” She started. Grams waved her off, already limping toward the door. She glanced back for a moment. She gestured toward the outdoors with her chin.

“Let’s go, Palais.”

Pala nodded. She trotted forward, gently helping Grams walk as she guided her back to the lower hill. Talon remained where she had left her. The frown on her face must have remained the entire duration Pala was gone.

“Talon,” Erta leaned heavily on her cane as she approached the woman.

“Erta,” she returned quickly. She glanced behind herself, her eyes flickering across the empty plain. “You should move the herd early this season.”

Pala blinked in surprise. They had never changed fields so early. Not when the weather was so pleasant. At least, not to her memory.

Her great-grandma gave the fisherwoman a long, hard look.

“Dan won’t like it.”

“He doesn’t have to.” Talon glanced backwards again. “The thought of an adventure will win him over.”

Pala looked too, though she didn’t see anything. It was unlike Talon to be so jumpy. Yet she was. Pala returned her gaze to the fisherwoman as she spoke again.

“Besides,” Her gaze flickered toward the field Granddan was likely in, “The fresh Lurelin air would do him some good, too.”

Talon wasn’t wrong. Every trip back to Lurelin was always an adventure. It was never a guarantee just who someone could meet on the road. Nor could someone really predict the weather or how the terrain had changed in the past six months. Pala distinctly remembered a time when the river had moved, blindsiding the three of them.

The conversation continued, pulling her from her thoughts.

“What about you?” Grams asked. The natural follow up in a situation such as this. Pala glanced at Talon from her place at her great-grandma’s side. She wanted to know the answer, too. The fisherwoman shook her head. Pala frowned.

“Rivers are in my blood. You know that.”

Grams sighed. Her shoulders sunk, her mouth opening as she looked down, “Take care of yourself.”

“I always do.” Talon assured. Then, she turned her eyes to Pala. Her gaze flickers to the hilt of the throwing dagger at Pala’s hip. “Don’t forget what I taught you, Palais.”

A stone sunk into her stomach. Talon’s words felt less like a brief farewell and more like she might never see her again.

“I don’t think I could even if I tried,” she tried to smile, but she was sure it appeared more like a grimace. It was the best she could do. When Talon returned it, Pala didn’t say anything about how sad it looked.

The fisherwoman gave her an approving nod. Then, she looked back to Pala’s great-grandma. Despite the sincerity of her words, they sounded brittle. 

“May we meet again, my friend.” 

When Pala glanced at her, Grams smile had stiffened. She made the impossible promise anyway.

“Until then.”

══════════════════

     Grams had been right. Granddan was not happy about moving the herd. No matter how her great-grandmother had played it off as an adventure like Talon had suggested. Pala had always known that Granddan had been an adventurer when he was young. Peddling dondon ivory and the like as he went searching for anything that piqued his interest. He even claimed that a boy he’d met would one day grow up to be the Hero talked about in the old legends. Grandma Malta had called that particular claim hogwash all the way up to her deathbed, but for the first time in nearly a decade, Pala hoped it was true.

Hyrule might just need a hero right now.

She stayed quiet as she shuffled around the kitchenette, listening in as predictably, Granddan disagreed with the spontaneity of the plan. He didn’t like changing things so abruptly. And to be perfectly honest, neither did Grams. Which was probably what actually bothered him. Something about this entire situation had forced Grams’ hand. She would have never agreed to Talon’s suggestion otherwise.

“You understand this doesn’t make a lick of sense, don’t you?” Granddan asked, the question nearly rhetorical. Pala glanced at the pair just in time to see Grams raise a single, thick brow.

“And since when has ‘sense’ meant so much to you?” She rolled her shoulders, continuing her work and packing things away. “Don’t forget who raised you, boy.”

Granddan grumbled a bit under his breath.

“Guess I’ll have to head into town to send a courier down to Lachlan,” he spoke up, already turning toward the front door. Pala quickly looked back at the counter, hoping she wasn’t caught listening in. Granddan’s snort told her otherwise. She lifted her gaze. There weren’t that many private conversations in their little house, anyway.

“Don’t.” Grams called out before he took more than two steps. Granddan whipped black around, his brows drawn together in consternation.

“Whaddya mean, ‘don’t?’ He’s gotta know we’re coming.” Her grandfather made to turn back toward the door again. Grams wasn’t having any of it.

“I said, don’t.”

“You gotta start making sense sometime, Ma!” Granddan hissed. He gave up, marching over to one of the dining chairs and dropping into it with a heavy thud.

“Don’t you take that tone with me, Danel.” Grams pointed the knitting needle in her hand at him as she spoke. Wisely, Pala continued to stay quiet as the two ‘argued.’ Grams continued, “And it’ll make sense when it makes sense. It isn’t as if Lachlan puts anyone up in our old hut anyhow.”

Pala peered at Granddan, waiting to see what he would say. In the short silence that followed, Grams put her knitting away. When Pala glanced back at her, she saw that she had pulled the old calendar book from Great-Great Grandma Cala. Granddan had clearly caught sight of it. He didn’t say anything, but the frown on his face deepened. He looked to Pala just as she returned her gaze to him.

“C’mon Pala-girl,” Granddan said instead of what he so clearly wanted to, “Ol’ Kilo won’t listen to anybody ‘cept you.”

“Yessir,” Pala said as she, too, turned fully toward the front door. “Though, I think s’just ‘cause he don’t like you all that much, Granddan.”

Granddan sniffed.

“Maybe he would if he made better choices.”

“Don’t put him up in the stall next to the hutch, then.” Grams called out from behind them. Granddan couldn’t deny that she had a point. Pala figured he would refute it despite that. After all, dondons weren’t meant to eat cuccoo eggs. Kilo did it anyway.

“He should know better!” Granddan called back.

Pala thought to herself that Kilo did, in fact, know better. He just liked getting a rise out of Granddan. Just like his sire once did. She briefly wondered if her grandpa actually did know about Kilo’s tricks before quickly discarding the idea. If Granddan knew, he wasn’t letting on.

“C’mon Granddan,” Pala tugged on his arm, “I’ll even let you have Helt’s pasture.” She watched her offer work like a treat, the irritated look in Granddan’s eyes disappearing almost immediately. He patted her on the head.

“You’re a blessing straight from the goddesses, Pala-girl.”

“Course I am. I had you to raise me, didn’t I?”

Granddan laughed.

“That y’did, Pala-girl, that y’did.”

══════════════════

     Talon wasn’t there to see them off a few days later. Something about it seemed wrong to Pala, though the fisherwoman wasn’t always around to say goodbye most times anyhow. But a lot of things were different this time around. The way they felt watched when she came to them, her suggestion early move, Grams allowing the early move—nothing added up. Not really. It made Pala worry.

But Grams had been strict in their preparations. There was no time to go searching for her. Worse yet, a storm seemed to be approaching from the west. If they left now, they could probably outrun it. And mauve that had been Talon’s plam all along. Even if it felt like there was something more to it. But leaving now gave Pala no time to do anything else. No time to say goodbye. Not to the townspeople or the other Lizalfolk Pala knew. There just wasn’t enough.

That was what rattled her most.

Pala sighed, checking over the doors and windows in the house one last time. Granddan was out securing the last of the tarps, and the cuccoos were already caged up in the back wagon with Grams. She was the last one left. And terribly, she had the strangest feeling it would be the last time she was. The summer house wouldn’t be here when they got back.

At least not the way it looked now.

She shook her head. Stepping out into the late morning sun, she reached back to pull the door closed. It slotted almost perfectly into the frame. Each half of the latch mechanism lined up, clinking together as she moved the latchbolt into place. Her hand lingered for a moment. The other reached into the pocket with her ivory statuette of Hylia, holding tightly around the well-carved object.

Pala closed her eyes.

The prayer was short. But it didn’t need to be long. All Pala needed was safe passage and the promise of reunion. So that was what she asked for. The statuette sat warm in her hand, though she couldn’t tell for sure if it was the warmth of summer or an answer. She chose to believe the latter.

Her eyes opened.

“C’mon Pala-girl!” Granddan called from the driver’s seat of the front cart. She glanced over at the caravan. The entire herd was present, ready to follow Kilo and Lunal, the dame and darrow. Squinting, she could see that the two were already harnessed up. “Sun’ll only get hotter!”

Well, he wasn’t wrong.

Pala jogged up to the front cart, climbing into the seat next to her grandfather. Looking at the well-trodden path ahead of her, she could easily imagine they were going out on an adventure. Out to save the world, though it really only felt like they were saving the herd. Still, the thought made her feel a bit better about leaving. 

Two clicks and a familiar whistle later, they were off.

As the wagon rumbled over the ancient, weathered road, Pala felt the statuette in her pocket pulse once more with warmth. It was of little comfort, though it did soothe her nerves a bit. The distant clouds were suddenly just a bit lighter.

As if everything would somehow be alright.

[f-imaginings]

in terms of inspiration and such does it feel easier or more difficult to write as you inch closer and closer to weirdmageddon? or has it made no notable difference? you’ve been working on this story for so long so i imagine it must feel kinda strange to be getting so close to what might be the end of it!

-----------------

Another wonderful question!! You are so good at these!

I think my inspiration to write is more closely correlated to the comments and feedback I get for the story, so the more people who tell me they enjoy it, the more it inspires me to write, and I've had a wonderful abundance of attention since BOB so I am being spoiled every day by nice words. I think my drive to finish the fic is pretty sustainable at this point, and I'm already getting ideas for a sequel haha. Finishing the fic was my new years resolution (even though judging by past chapters, it's been taking roughly a month to churn each one out since they're so long and intricate) so it looks like sometime in the new year I'll likely finish the story, maybe around April or June depending on how I balance writing with my workload and social obligations. I'm determined to finish it though (so I can start a cathartic sequel hahah)

I think in terms of us being towards the end of the story though, I have noticed it's made a difference on how I plan out the chapters. In the past I had all the time in the world to build the story and relationships and take things in new imaginative directions, but with the end of the story on the horizon we're left with a limited amount of time to tie up all the loose plot threads. I am being a lot more deliberate with how I plan the chapters. I write notes about plot direction and what details to include for every chapter, and I find that with every chapter approaching the end I've been writing three lots of plot notes corresponding to each 'episode'. So there's the general overview of events from the show and what I want to include from Ford and Bill's perspective, and then there's the refined version where I drill down into what factors I want to explore for each POV (for example the notes for the next chapter include Kryptos' storyline, Ford's storyline and Bill's storyline) which really breaks down what plot beats happen in each POV, and then there's the order of the different plot points, so I can weave between the different POVs in a way that flows thematically and brings out the best contrast between the characters journey.

I try to pull together similar themes in each chapter too, so for example the last chapter had overarching themes (lmao I made myself laugh by saying the themes of chapter 61 were 'dogs' and 'what if my family secretly hates me' hahah) and then I try to place story beats from different POVs together in a way that the themes compliment or contrast each other - so for example in the next chapter the themes of finding purpose after being stripped of it will apply to characters we encounter during Kryptos' POV and during Ford's POV. I've got this planned out meticulously all the way to the end, but before I start each new chapter thats when my second and third plot plans come into place. There's just something about reading the work through again once it's been posted on ao3 that makes me realise what threads I want to pull into the next chapter and that means my second and third plots happen once the last chapter is posted. I also rewatch the show's episodes about a million times lmao and add to my notes about what little details I want to highlight and bring back from the old chapters, since this fic is technically canon divergent, not fully canon adjacent.

I get inspired all the time for this story though, from all kinds of places too. Lots of times from my work (since I work in a mental health org) or from therapy or my own reading. I attended a DSFV training session through work a few weeks ago and what I learned there gave me inspiration for how I want to tackle a possible redemption arc in a sequel, especially around cycles of violence and how it can relate to perpetrators. I'll talk about healthy relationships in my own therapy sessions, and I'll get inspired to work in stuff about relearning independence after codependency. I'll read a baller fanfic (usually from other fandoms since I've been saving myself to read all the billford fics after my fic is finished, because of that one time someone accused the fic of plagarism - but since most ppl have wised up to the fact that those claims were just one person being a big meany I've read one or two fics and there is some gold out there in the fandom!!! Like Theseus' Guide To Ruining a Perfectly Good Boat by @stump-not-found theres a few chapters out but I am loving the characterisation and how punchy the prose and stakes are!) and reading fic is a great inspiration, same with published works too, I'm currently reading Youthjuice by E K Sathue which does very interesting things with description.

Anywho sorry for the essay in response haha! You always ask such great questions jada! I just finished doing my second plot through for chapter 62 today too, what timing!

[rainymossgoddess]

Hey how was everyone's day, good? Good. I would never come up with a basic story/vibe for a nonexistent zelda game on a whim instead of studying. Nope. Definitely not like I'm writing this post instead of studying or anything.

Hey unrelated what if there was a zelda game where Link and Dark Link had a sort of Link & Midna style relationship and the major themes of the game were about, like, the corrupt side of those in positions of power and how darkness does not equal evil bad bad.

Continued below the cut cause I've written myself into a corner with this pitch-

Dark Link

Dark Link is Midna adjacent, serving a supportive role as a sort of secondary protagonist. Kinda similar to Spirit Tracks zelda in a way, though they could interact with the world a bit more.

This could manifest in a couple of ways, though the first ones that come to mind are possession of armors and stuff (again, spirit tracks as inspo) and a shadow form that's similar to, like, the painting bracelet from Link Between Worlds.

Part of what's happening in my head is that i just want to see Link playfully arguing with his shadow (Dink).

There are also thoughts in my brain about a plot twist so hard it gives the audience whiplash but we'll see (will elaborate later).

Becomes more than just Link's bitter goth clone, developing a personality and both distancing themselves from but becoming closer to link.

In a fruity way?

Link

Off the top of my head I want this Link to feel similar to Legend (or at least similar to legend's vibe in all too many of the fics I have been reading).

Definitely a magic user. Fire and Ice magic could have fun game mechanics built around them (light and reflections respectively).

Classic green outfit? Maybe with a more naturey vibe.

Darker color scheme, more suited to sneaking

Both Link and Dink have matching flower crowns as part of their outfits (Link has purple and Dink has Yellow).

Zelda(?)

For some reason I REALLY want a prince in one way or another (transfem or transmasc preferably. Y'know.)

Very pressured by abusive+corrupt nobles/dad

Unable to access triforce but hides it and learned magic in secret to keep appearances.

Still Not Enough, keeps pushing themselves over the healthy limit. Perhaps ends up hurting themself in one way or another.

Maybe the Queen could still be alive but just sleeping beauty'd by the King cause he wanted power.

King as a boss battle??

Major plot twist mentioned in Dink's section is maybe they don't have the triforce of Wisdom at all.

Option A is they actually have the triforce of Power.

Option B is they don't even have a triforce, making every bit of their magical prowess even more impressive.

Ganondorf

Definitely not the antagonist

I feel like we're all pretty tired of the whole 'ooh ominous big villain here to kill everyone surely it's a mystery- NOPE ITS GANONDORF AGAIN BABY HAHA.'

I think he should be included somehow though, perhaps even as a triforce holder.

Antihero, possibly? I think I like the vibe of him being a goofy old hermit on the edge of the gerudo highlands with a cute little orchard more though. Of course, these aren't exclusive of each other, but still.

He has no want of power or lust to rule Hyrule, at most he wants to run a little farm.

Possible plot point is him having cut off his triforce bearing hand because he has no want of power and the triforce being a part of him would only bring unwanted attention upon him.

Avid knitting circle member.

Big Nasty

A major servant of Hylia, possibly?

Alternatively, three servants of the golden trio.

They've blocked off Hylia/The Golden Trio's greater connection(s) to the people and land of hyrule, seeking to replace her/them as a god.

Final final battle with puppeted sleeping Hylia?

I sense power creep

General stuff i guess

Could take place during a time of peace

Biggest demise sided villains would also be sided with the Big Nasty, but for their own reasons

Puzzles,,

Lore/sequel stuff??

Sequel adventure could be to re-seal/kill the Ganon/Demise/Whatever and keep the peace

Maybe something gets twisted with that

Killing TWO gods? (Hylia and Demise to halt the cycle, at least for a long while)

Perhaps halting the cycle allows the hero's spirit to move on from this endless war (echoing in an era of fresher villains)

Of course this is all just me rambling on- I would love to hear some feedback on these ideas!

I also desperately want to draw art for these characters my head has rotating violently but I always get too in my own head about drawing so-

[hongcherry]

under the lights || psh (m)

"To Seonghwa, you're the most stunning person in his lifetime. He's so committed to you that he gifts you something very precious for your anniversary."

✨ Pairing: vampire!Seonghwa x human!Reader (afab)

✨ Rating/Genres/Aus: M(18+); Fluff, smut, minor angst; Vampire au, established relationship

✨ Warnings: she/her pronouns (called Miss at one point), reader wears a dress, biting, blood, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, handjob, soft sex, multiple orgasms, talk about death, brief hint of suicide (no one does it)

✨ Word Count: 2.6k

✨ Beta: @ssaboala thank you so much for looking over this! I really appreciate your time and how quickly you finished beta'ing this. You're amazing! ^-^

✨ Author's Note: Happiest birthday to Seonghwa! His cover was beautiful (and I love Troye so extra ahhh!!!! for me haha), and I hope he knows how much he's loved ❤︎ This story was inspired by listening to "i'm yours (sped up)" by Isabel LaRose. I had a vision in my head, and I thought Seonghwa fit it the best 🥰 My version of vampires is a combination of different vampire characteristics.

ateez masterlist | main masterlist

Seonghwa stands at the bottom of the grand staircase. 

His eyes are lowered to his white top, adjusting the fabric for the hundredth time. He feels as if this will be his first time seeing you, but he knows that isn’t the case. He’s been your partner for years. He’s seen every side of you. Nevertheless, he shuffles his feet in anticipation of your arrival.

The staircase is grandiose; there are two flights of stairs on either side that meet in the middle before becoming one. Sure, it’s a little excessive for just a man–and occasionally his butler–but Seonghwa has always been someone with exquisite taste.

Seonghwa hears the sound of your footsteps before he sees you. His eyes snap up to the left where the sound is the strongest. His admiration for the staircase is diverted at the first sight of white.

For your fifth-year anniversary, you and Seonghwa decided to wear white—a color that both of you loved and were wearing the first time you met.

Seonghwa watches with rapt attention as you descend the stairs slowly. 

You graze your hand against the railing, eyes finding him as a smile contorts your facial features. The light from the chandeliers catches on the sparkles of your dress, reflecting small specks on the walls that move with each step you take. For Seonghwa, time slows down upon seeing your beauty.

He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until you’re standing before him. The small laugh that emits from your body has him tilting his head.

“What’s so funny?” he asks.

You smile and take hold of his hand. It’s cold as always but fits the mold of your hand perfectly.

“You look like you’ve been hypnotized,” you reply.

“I have,” he responds without hesitation, “You look magnificent, love.”

Your face begins to heat at his compliment.

“And you look dashing, Hwa.”

“Dashing?” he wonders for a second. “I rather like that.”

Smiling, you lean forward. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Your lips meet his in a chaste kiss. If it weren’t for the dinner bell, you would’ve kissed him longer.

Even after all the years of knowing him, Seonghwa remains a gentleman. He pulls the seat out for you and helps tuck you under the table afterward. He sits adjacent to you at the head of the table.

And like all things Seonghwa, the dining table is lavish and large as well. 

Ungyu, Seonghwa’s butler, waits on the both of you. Even though he typically does this, today is usually his off day. He’s been with Seonghwa since the younger man was a child. He didn’t solely raise him, but he did have some impact on Seonghwa’s character. 

“Is your meal alright, Miss YLn,” Ungyu asks. 

You gaze up at him, nodding enthusiastically. 

“Oh, it’s wonderful!” you beam.

Ungyu chuckles at your excitement. You can tell he’s pleased with himself at having prepared a delicious dish. 

“And you, Master Seonghwa?” He turns to your boyfriend.

Seonghwa rolls his eyes playfully at the title. “Ungyu, I’ve told you not to call me that.”

“Have you?” he teases. “I must be losing my hearing.”

“Or your memory,” Seonghwa mutters as Ungyu begins to walk away.

“Need you not forget, you still have other courses. I do advise you to keep your cook happy,” he suggests playfully.

“What are you going to do? Poison me? I’m already dead,” Seonghwa retorts.

“Perhaps, but I know how to put you on bed rest for a couple of weeks.”

“Alright, alright,” Seonghwa finally backs down with a chuckle before turning to you. The smile on his face fades when he sees your mouth dipped down.

“Is something wrong, baby?” he questions.

You shake your head and force a smile. Seonghwa knows you better though. He sighs and sets his utensils down.

“It was my dead joke, huh?” he recalls.

“You know I don’t like them,” you say softly.

Despite it being the truth, you hated being reminded that you were still from two different worlds. You’ve been ready to step fully into his world, but Seonghwa has never granted your wish. He always said if the time was right, but at some point, it would be too late. Your body ages faster than his and is more fragile. You also didn’t want Seonghwa to be alone if you were to pass. Needless to say, the joke reminded you of all your concerns.

“I’m sorry,” he earnestly replies. He reaches a hand out to cover one of yours. “I didn’t do it to hurt you.”

You flip your hand over to intertwine your fingers. “I know.”

“Let’s finish dinner and then head to the bedroom. I have a present for you,” Seonghwa instructs gently with a squeeze of your hand.

Seonghwa’s room is probably the cleanest room in his home. No dust particles can be found and everything has its own place. You had offered to help him one time, but he rejected your offer. There is a sense of tranquility when he cleans, so he doesn’t mind the length it takes him to tidy up his bedroom. That, and he’s rather picky about how things get cleaned. 

Seonghwa leads you to sit on the edge of his plush bed. He turns his back to you as he goes to retrieve whatever he got you.

“You didn’t get me a pair of socks, did you?” you joke.

Seonghwa laughs and shakes his head. “No, I got you this.”

He walks toward you holding up a small vile. The contents are a red liquid, and you lean closer to get a better look.

Seonghwa slips the vile in your hand silently.

You turn the glass in your palm then unscrew the cap. You cautiously bring the container to your nose. The smell is slightly metallic.

“Is this…” you trail off, closing the cap and looking at Seonghwa with wide eyes.

“My blood,” he confirms.

At your still-confused look, he takes the vile back. He places it gently in its cushioned box before sitting next to you.

“It’s for emergencies only,” he explains.

Then it dawns on you why he gave it to you.

In order for a human to turn, they must have vampire blood in their system when they pass. You can turn yourself by consuming his blood. You now had easy access to it. Though his explanation rings in your ears. He is trusting you not to use it “just because.” Despite being willing to commit your life to his, you weren’t going to go behind his back. After all, that isn’t how you treat someone you love wholeheartedly.

“I can’t always be there for you, and I do see myself with you for decades,” he starts, “but now isn’t the time.”

You open your mouth to protest, as you normally do when this topic arises, but Seonghwa shakes his head.

“One day, we’ll do it properly. For now, you have that,” he gestures to the box. “If something happens, and I can’t be there for you.”

You know he’s implying to only use the vile in a life-threatening situation. It should be a last resort. 

He eyes you with a mixture of emotions as you digest his words. Just the mere thought of something happening to you has him feeling on edge. 

“I understand. Thank you,” you finally say.

Seonghwa nods, trying to force a smile on his lips, but his tormenting thoughts hold him back.

“Hey,” you call out gently and place a hand on his thigh. “I’m safe. I’m here.”

“Yeah,” he replies.

“Just focus on the now. Focus on me.”

With that, you lean forward and capture his mouth in yours. 

Seonghwa reciprocates the kiss passionately. He loses himself in the simple feeling of your kiss. He pushes you back onto the bed, leaning over you and keeping his weight from crushing you. You move a leg to wrap around his waist to pull him closer.

One of Seonghwa’s hands cradles your neck while the other trails up the leg that’s hooked over his waist. The fabric of your dress becomes bunched up the higher his hand goes. Soon, his fingers are toying with the material of your underwear.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” Seonghwa asks softly after he pulls away from the kiss.

Your eyes flutter open as a smile forms. “You did.”

“Happy fifth anniversary,” he says.

“Happy fifth anniversary,” you echo, bringing your hands up to cup his cheeks.

Seonghwa dips his head down to give you another kiss before moving to your neck. Your head tilts to give him more access. 

In a matter of minutes, both of you have discarded your clothing. His fingers are sliding in and out of your pussy with ease, and your hand is pumping his shaft. 

Your moaning turns into a gasp when you feel two needle-like teeth graze your skin. The pressure isn’t hard enough to break the skin, but the sensation has your body buzzing with anticipation. However, the feeling of Seonghwa biting down never comes. In lieu, his mouth presses into your neck in a kiss.

There’s a twinge of disappointment, but you don’t linger on it. You know Seonghwa prefers to bite you only if necessary. There was a moment in your relationship where he did so more frequently, but after one feeding where he got carried away, he vowed to limit himself.

Seonghwa’s hands slip from your entrance and gently pushes your hand from his cock. He angles his head so you can see his face again. He looks as stunning as ever, and there’s a brief moment where you forget to breathe.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, love,” he promises with a kiss on your lips. At the same time, he positions himself between your legs and gradually buries himself in your heat.

His size makes you cry out, head thrown back as your eyes close for a moment. 

Seonghwa stills to allow you to adjust. When you start wiggling your hips for more, he moves. His thrusts are steady, yet powerful. He’s not moving as quickly as he can. Regardless, he still feels amazing. 

He keeps the same pace, sometimes giving a few rough thrusts that have you inhaling sharply or rubbing your clit with one of his hands. 

Your sounds are becoming more persistent, and your walls clench around him. Seonghwa knows you’re close to your edge.

“That’s it, baby,” he coos. “Come for me. I’m right here.”

Seonghwa’s hips speed up for the first time. The action has you coming undone in a matter of seconds, shuddering and crying his name.

Your body sags into the mattress. Your harsh breathing is loud in your ears, but you rather hear Seonghwa’s pretty moans so you try to catch your breath fast.

“I love when you fall apart for me,” Seonghwa comments, hips still rolling against yours to near his own climax. 

His eyes are focused on your body, the way your chest is rising and falling quickly. Then his senses start to heighten. His mouth dries at how sweet your smell is. He has to force himself to slow his movements instead of speeding up. He can’t stop staring at your neck and deep down there’s a part of him that hates when his body does this. He’s gotten better at controlling his natural urges, but it’s never easy. Especially not when you look and smell so enticing.

“Seonghwa,” you call out lovingly.

It takes a few more calls of his name to get his attention finally.

His eyes are slightly bloodshot and more vibrant than before, and the veins under his eyes are more prominent.

“Come here, Hwa,” you beckon gently.

Seonghwa shakes his head. “I’ll be fine. I’m sorry,” he says quickly as he bows his head.

You reach out and take hold of one of his hands, tugging him down to you until his face is right above yours. The new position makes him shift inside you. Seonghwa stares at you with the same look he has every time you see him like this.

“I’m yours. Every part of me,” you say while you cup the back of his head.

Before Seonghwa can reply, you guide his face to your neck. 

You can feel his ragged breath on your skin. His body is tensed under your touch as if he’s forcing himself not to succumb to his desires.

“Go on, Hwa,” you encourage. “I trust you.”

There are two pokes on your neck where Seonghwa has placed his fangs, however, he doesn’t penetrate the skin.

“I love you,” you breathe quietly, moving your hands to his sides. It’s barely above a whisper, but you know Seonghwa’s hearing is way above the average human’s.

Your words cause him to relax, and it reminds you to do the same. It’s always easier when you’re not tense.

There’s a sharp pain in your neck as Seonghwa sinks his teeth into your skin. Your fingers dig into his sides while your mouth falls open in a silent gasp. Though as always, the pain subsides soon and is replaced with a feeling of euphoria. 

Seonghwa drinks from you slowly, forcing himself to savor your taste instead of ravishing you like the animal he’s portrayed as. His tongue darts out to lick the dripping blood. He gains a burst of energy at how divine you taste, which causes him to begin moving his hips again. Your hands slide up his body to wrap around his shoulders.

The feel of his cock gliding against your walls combined with the intoxicated-like feeling have you reaching new heights. The chandelier in the room twinkles above; its hanging crystals make you feel like you’re in a glittery fantasy. 

Seonghwa quickens his thrusts, and you feel another orgasm approaching. 

You try to pull his body closer, cling to him as if you need him to survive, but you don’t have much strength. You just want to feel more of him.

Suddenly, Seonghwa pulls away from your neck, a deep groan emitting from his throat as he releases his load deep in your cunt.

You come seconds later; your arms fall limp next to your head. You’re both coming down from two highs—the sex and the feeding. You’ve never experienced both simultaneously, so this was a new sensation. You would love to feel it again in the future.

Seonghwa’s body relaxes on yours more, though still not all the way. His breathing is harsh against your shoulder, eyes closed as he tries to regain his composure. 

Eventually, he pulls away and lays beside you. You instantly curl into him, which has him wrapping his arm around you.

“How are you feeling?” Seonghwa asks.

“Incredible,” you answer and glance at him.

Seonghwa smiles down at you, his fangs peeping out under his upper lip. Maybe if you didn’t know him, you would’ve found the sight a little scary. However, this was your Seonghwa. A man who you’ve grown to love quickly. A man who cherishes everything he has. A man who you want to be with forever.

“A few more minutes then we should get dressed,” Seonghwa says after a moment.

“Why? Can’t we stay here?” you wonder, unsure why you need to dress when it was just you two. Ungyu had left right after dinner.

Seonghwa grins, “I’ve got other plans for us.”

“Really? But I told you I didn’t need anything fancy tonight. I just want to be with you.”

Instead of sticking to his “few more minutes” plan, he climbs out of bed and clothes himself once more. You follow behind him slowly; you’re not quite ready to leave his comfy bed—or his arms (though it’s too late for the latter).

“And that you will be,” Seonghwa reassures then grabs your shoes for you. As he helps you slip them on, he stares up at you with shiny eyes.

“The night’s only begun.”

I was thinking of writing another part with this couple, but I'd love to know if anyone is interested in that first! 😊

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

[applepies-and-starlight]

Was Ishmael always your favorite from day one, or did Canto 5 swing things in her direction?

So, she wasn't like, my favorite favorite day 1, but I did have a higher opinion of her compared to the rest of the cast (barring Ryoshu and Sinclair as food name oomf was making propaganda about them like a madman), her initial demeanor also gained her extra points because I generally gravitate towards characters that Actually Respect The MC/PC i won't say no to unhinged characters can we at least pretend to be civil during work hours and not treat me like a dog? It makes me sad :(

And then Canto V dropped.

Normally, this wouldn't be. That Big of a deal, if it was in literally any other position I'd just go "oh cool, so that's what happened" and moved on.

Problem: there was probably at least 20 different sleeper agents in my brain. And all of them involved Azur Lane

(Context for confused LCB moots: Azur Lane is Arknights' weirder, hornier cousin set somewhere in a WW2-adjacent period where all of your units are warships given human form known as Shipgirls (official term: KAN-SEN) and you fight against a robotic menace known as the Sirens)

(Editing Apple: putting this under cut because... oh lird. It's long.)

I had this like, entire ramble I wanted to go off on but at some point I didn't know where to take it lmao, but the basic idea is the following:

I got into Azur Lane last year because of spite and (eldritch-ish) pirates (Hello Royal Fortune!)

Got dragged into lore rabbit hole

Got convinced to read eldritch apocalypse fanfiction of Azur Lane (Whispers of Saturn)

Loved the fanfic a lot, started making Pirate shipgirl ocs based off the fic's concept (eldritch creachurr)

First iteration of Whaleship Essex created; whale-like mermaid-siren figure who has albinism and is a little Too trigger happy with whale murder

Made her look like Ishmael LCB because haha funny reference

Devs went fuckshit crazy with the anniversary event; Marco Polo was raining the wrath of God (who, to the surprise of absolutely nobody, was a false god), the god in question was fucking up the world with a weird white membrane (which, now that I think about it, kinda acted like pallidification), the french were getting back together, everything is great

I try to add the false god(s) into the lore timeline of my Azur Lane shit, cue updates happening to Whaleship Essex where she's the only survivor of her group and knows that someone else also survived but blames them for not being able to Do Something about it

New Pirate event happens

Devs stole 2 of my OCs and made them canon (hi, Hind; hi, Galley) and they also happen to be close to Whaleship Essex while they were my OCs

I work around what the Devs have given me and decide that they're in a state of kinda died-but-not-really (long story)

(Note that I came up with all this oc stuff around like. November or something.)

Overall my hype for The Sea™ and eldritch horrors have reached an all time high

Canto V releases; I learn about it while trying to make a Limbus AU for Murder Drones

I decide to check it out because. Water.

Doomed sailor yuri

"Holy fucking shit did I just predict Canto V with my OC that's completely unrelated in every way except for the fact that she looks A Lot like Ishmael???? What?????"

Present time; I have been stuck in the Limbus hole ever since (and apparently my brain has delusionally stuck itself onto our favorite ginger sailor so uh. hi fellow ishmael irls!)

Sooooo... yeah

Basically we wouldn't be here if the stars didn't align at Halloween 2022 and Manjuu + Yostar gave the AL fans someone who isn't a pirate

[gollygeedash]

19 14 12 Mason!

I was going to try and do nicer drawings for these, but Art Fight is so close MS PAINT IT IS! (heehee) 19. Has your OC ever had an experience with the paranormal or the divine? What happened? Was it a one time encounter or is it a normal part of their life? Did they find it terrifying or thrilling?

In canon, no. Mason was born and raised on a planet full of various kinds of aliens so I don't... think weird stuff phases him too much. I guess the weirdest thing he'd interacted with is his cat that sometimes Bethesda-glitch through the wall and can make her head do weird things when she sneezes.

IN AU THOUGH.... It's very very funny to me to put Mason against paranormal things because he's either "WHAT" about it or he's trying so so so hard to pretend it doesn't exist and everything's normal. In the Gollyville RP my friends and I do he gets to be exposed to a few weird things, like for instance a girl he took in to stay with him can just turn into a raccoon. His first instinct was "get the broom". And then there's also two of his friends that got fused into one person, Leanne, and he had A TIME trying to cope with that at the beginning. Hey, two of your friends might be gone forever and you have this abomination instead? Have fun with that Mason. (He did later on)

And then of course my friends and I play Phasmophobia and one of the models looks... VERY MASON ADJACENT so we like to joke that he's now on a ghost-hunting squad with two kids.

There was also a one-off RP session where we dropped Mason in a haunted dead mall (along with some other characters) and they all had to escape! Unfortunately he didn't get to see too much weird stuff because he was too focused on trying to find Alynne. Though there were moving mannequins.... He did get to see that.

Sometime in the near future another friend of mine has another horror-RP planned for him and a few other friends OCs, so I'm very excited for that :]c

14. How important is friendship to your OC? Do they prefer to have one or two close friends or a large group of casual friends? Or do they prefer their own company over that of others?

Mason would like to say he doesn't need friends/friendship but WITHOUT FAIL, every time, he's going to find out he does (get appreciated, idiot) He's not a very social person, so the idea of having a larger group of casual friends feels like a death trap of making small talk the whole time. He much prefers the company of one or two closer friends. In college he stuck to only hanging out with Rex, maybe another person he fell out of contact with. When the story takes place and when he's done saying saying "woe is me, I'm unlovable" he's going to find it harder to keep people away from hanging out with him. Be it Rex, Eda, Miranda and Deven, Maddison, and even others later on :]c

He is very introverted though, so he's going to have his moments of needing to step back and have a day to himself. "Nap on the couch with the tv on" kinda day.

12. Is your OC cynical or optimistic? Who or what shaped their outlook on life?

Who, Mason? Optimistic? PFFT. He'd need a whole life changing event for that to happen. Ahaha, haha. Hah. (He'll get what's coming for him.)

As for what caused the cynicism.....

[animeomegas]

Hello, I would LOVE to pick your brain in relation to this post you made:

https://www.tumblr.com/animeomegas/718411602718851072/i-had-a-thought-what-if-himbo-alpha-katsuki

Basically, the post where you talk about a dream you had where Omegas go to a special school after regular school where it's decided if they'll be a house spouse, used for breeding, etc.

A guilty pleasure of mine is reading about, and fantasizing about stories/aus where a certain group of people are deemed more "submissive" and that determining their role in society. I really like BDSM univeres for this reason, as well as the Obey Me Pet Au.

Anyway, I would love to hear about your dream as well as your thoughts on how this society works! Like, are Omegas rare? Or are they as common as any other dynamic? How is it determined what role they take on in society? How long do they stay as the school?

Omg, yes, hello!! I would be so happy to expand on this. Tbh, I also have a guilty pleasure for those same kinds of stories, so this post is going to be a long rambling explanation of my dream and of how I imagine a system like that functioning. Also, if you want to talk about this or ideas adjacent to this, please send more asks or DM me and we can indulge in the guilty pleasure together haha. I also love BDSM AUs and the Obey Me Pet AU! @obey-me-headquarters

(Also, did you mean to attach a different post to this? Perhaps this one ?)

WARNING: This is all going to be societal level dubcon and noncon.

Okay, first things first, let me outline my dream:

The dream was sort of from Sasuke's perspective on his graduation day from omega finishing school.

He sees Itachi and his parents in the crowd watching. Itachi graduated a few years before and was sorted into a 'housewife' omega type, so he is sitting with his alpha.

Itachi is wearing a cute pink skirt and an adorable chastity cage hehe. It was clear that his alpha had complete control over his wardrobe and had chosen his outfit for the day.

Itachi is the kind of omega who found great happiness through this system and so really believes that Sasuke is going to find the same happiness at the event.

However he is wishing that Sasuke ends up in a role that allows him to still be in frequent contact with him, as some roles would allow that more than others.

Sasuke is pissed though.

He doesn't want any of this at all.

Naruto gets sorted first and gets told he's a breeding type, but a breeding type with a job. He must have at least five pups and he also run a daycare and look after other people's pups as well.

He is happy about it, and Sasuke begrudgingly agrees that it suits him, but that he himself would hate to get assigned that.

Then Shikamaru gets sorted as an 'exceptional case'. Whispers spread across the room because it was one of the rarest categories.

'Exceptional case' omegas have special skills, for example a very high intellect, and it means they get given special circumstances.

In Shikamaru's case, he must still be mated to an alpha, but he will be allowed and required to get a high powered job. He must have at least one pups, but if he doesn't want more, his alpha can't make him because it would impact his career.

He basically gets to live as a normal working member of society.

Sasuke is insanely jealous because that's the classification he wanted and is nervous because the chance of it happening twice in one graduation is incredibly slim.

Then it's his turn to be sorted.

And I either can't remember any more or I woke up at that point 😅

So how would I imagine classifications to work?

What kinds are there?

The classification list is incredibly long, but not every school offers every one ever year. It's based on what's available.

I think that omegas would be kept in their home areas, so if they live rurally, there's probably fewer classifications available to them.

The common classification types include: House spouse, breeding, public service, sex service, private service etc.

They would each have many, many subsections, for example public service could be childcare or even a teaching role at omega schools. Breeding could mean something as simple as having a specific goal for number of children, or it could mean being a professional surrogate. Sex service could mean a bunch of things from a high end style escort, to working in a brothel or in a specific household with a specific person/couple.

More rare classifications include: Exceptional cases, entertainers, full-time roleplays, specially chosen.

Exceptional cases, as mentioned, are omegas so skilled that they are more beneficial to society when they can use those skills. They aren't allowed to be unmated, but their alphas cannot force them to do certain things that other omegas might be subjected to.

Entertainers normally have lots of musical talent, or are exceptionally beautiful and good at acting, or maybe dancing of various kinds.

Full-time roleplayers fall into categories like littles, pets, etc.

Specially chosen omegas are basically bought by very powerful or rich people. Like, if the monarch or political leader picked out an omega, then they would do whatever that person wanted. This is very rare for obvious reasons.

Obviously there would be hundreds more, with so many sub categories and omegas getting a combination sorting is very common too.

How is a category decided?

I imagine it would be based on a few things. Mainly:

Physical health

Temperament

Job availability

Skills

Personal interests

Physical health: Obviously an infertile or sterile omega wouldn't be a great choice for a breeder. But in general, certain categories are more physically taxing than others, so an omega who can't do those roles for whatever reason, won't be assigned them.

Temperament: Omegas are all pushed towards certain personality traits, like being obedient and docile, but some take to it more than other. An omegas who gets into fights with staff or other omegas will be less likely to be mated. Omegas who struggle with the childcare classes won't be pushed towards roles with childcare. I imagine there are some babysitting exams for this.

Job availability: If there are no jobs for a certain category, then omegas probably won't be sorted into it. If they are really, really fit for the role, they can be moved somewhere where there are job openings.

Skills: Pretty self explanatory. What classes did the omegas get the highest marks in? Do they have any special talents?

Personal interests: This one is the most interesting in my opinion. I imagine that omegas would have personality quizzes, interviews and tests. Their teachers would definitely give statements too. But also, I imagine they'd be hooked up to things to measure their brainwaves while they're shown different roles, kinks or porn etc. So feelings of arousal or excitement are shown through brain waves and trusted much more than the omegas words.

Other comments:

I think omegas would be a bit rarer than betas and alphas, but not to an extreme degree.

Any classifications that involve getting mated, involve the finishing school and family of the omega working together to find a compatible mate.

Some already have mates lined up or are chosen by very rich or powerful people before they graduate.

A horrible system of course, but... hot in fantasy 😏🤭

Do you have any ideas about how the system would work? I'd love to here them! <3

[cinnamontails-ff]

Fanfiction Writing Ask! 💖

What’s your favorite title that you’ve come up with?

Is there a trope or idea that you’d really like to write but haven’t yet?

How would you describe your writing style?

Does what you like to write differ from what you like to read?

What is the most-used tag on your ao3?

Hello hello and thank you so much for submitting these ❤ Answers under the cut!

What’s your favorite title that you’ve come up with?

Probably not a surprise, buuuut "The Accountant’s Guide to Taking Down an Evil Vampire Lord (and maybe bagging Astarion while you are at it)".

I just love how it conveys exactly the sort of ridiculous vibe I was going for in the story. If you don't like the title, chances are, you won't like the story, and that's perfect advertising in my opinion.

Is there a trope or idea that you’d really like to write but haven’t yet?

A silly dance scene! More detail here.

How would you describe your writing style?

"Terry Pratchett on a really horny day". More detail here.

Does what you like to write differ from what you like to read?

To an extent, yes. I have a rather fun, light-hearted writing style, but I do enjoy stories that are more serious in tone. The "Stormlight Archive" series by Brandon Sanderson comes to mind. It can be a fine line though because I find the super-serious tone needs to be earned with the right plot and themes, and if those don't pack enough of a punch, chances are, you'll come across a little silly. Which is why I prefer to start out on the purposefully silly side altogether :D

Similarly, while my writing is very character-focused, I can definitely get behind a more plot-centric story if the plot is really, really good. "Children of Time" by Adrian Tchaikovsky, for example, or "Murder on the Orient Express" / "And then there were none" by Agatha Christie.

I don't tend to focus on detailed, lush descriptions, simply because I don't enjoy writing them (and I also don't think I'm very good at it haha). I adore stories that do this though! @larvasmoon and @obsessedwhyyes have the most beautifully evocative descriptions in their stories. Descriptions that don't just feel like one more fancy room full of chandeliers and wine glasses, but that somehow manage to be fresh and novel and deliciously meaningful every time around.

What is the most-used tag on your ao3?

Apart from any Astarion-related ones? "Alternate Universe" :D Which is exactly what I want my legacy to be, honestly. I have 0 interest in canon or even canon-adjacent stories. Idk there's just no appeal for me. I always think about what weird scenarios I can stick the characters into. I love making up my own lore (& I still hold that my Cazador backstory in Accountant's Guide is better than canon and so are the spawn I made up during EA). Thanks, this one got a good chuckle out of me :)

[townofcrosshollow]

A while ago I started writing this little... idk, horror romance short story? About a man catching up with an old high school friend who may or may not be a murderer. This is an unfinished snippet, but I felt like sharing it, if only to give myself the motivation to write more haha.

CW for implied violence and suicide

Wesley Short was not in the habit of keeping up with old acquaintainces. He only scrolled Facebook occasionally, when boredom drove him to look empty-eyed at smiling vacation photos and baby announcements. His old high school "friends" were all getting on with their lives, pages plastered with photos of their prim and proper lives, having children of their own that they could afford with their fancy post-university jobs. Wesley never left Best Buy. College went south after his parents died, and that was that.

But today, hunched over his laptop in bed, still in his uniform, Wesley was paying very close attention to Facebook. He'd opened it up idly after all his other distractions failed. And he had a message. It was a familiar name- Tammy Skinner, an old high school fling from before he concluded that girls weren't to his taste. They'd been good friends in those days even after the sex thing didn't work out, skipping chemistry and smoking together in the alley behind the soccer field every other day. Those were good days. By now, Wesley's throat was atrophied, the chatter long gone from his muscle memory.

Back in the day, Tammy Skinner could never stop talking. Her words had always been winding and unfocused, stories leading naturally into new ones, rarely giving Wesley a moment to talk. He didn't much mind that, not having much to say himself. But this message was brief, no explanation for its existence, casual, like a heads up. "Kieran's in jail." And attached, a link to a local news article.

Local man missing. Foul play suspected. His roommate, unnamed in the article of course, has been taken into custody under suspicion. Wesley knew who that man was, though, like he know the sun would rise tomorrow. Kieran.

***

Wesley met him around when he and Tammy decided to be just friends. Kieran transferred to their school after the Christmas break- rumour was he got expelled from his old one. Tammy's mom was friends with his mom, so the moment he arrived he was glued to her. This was not a normal teenager, that was clear as soon as Wesley laid eyes on him- he had a tattoo, an infinity sign on his wrist, below an arm peppered with scars. He swore at teachers. He wore dark clothes, intentionally ripped and stuck back together with safety pins, t-shirts for bands with unreadable names.

One Tuesday, Tammy was home sick with the flu. Wesley's heart clenched when Kieran sat down next to him on the windowsill in the lonely hallway where they always had lunch. Why was he still here? Tammy wasn't. He was Tammy's friend.

Without a word, the boy flipped through a spiral bound notebook to a fresh page, producing a red pen from his pocket. In scratchy lines he started to doodle. Although doodle might have been the wrong word for it- there was far too much force behind every stroke, like a toddler learning to hold a crayon. Ink had spilled through rips on the adjacent page, and the ghostly outlines of figures danced in indents. He drew in silence as Wesley ate his sandwich, glancing down every once in a while to see what was forming across the page.

Kieran was not an artist, or at least not a talented one. His drawings were not elegant or beautiful. But they were particular in a way that kept Wesley's attention. Rather than lines, he drew in scribbles, shading in forms and leaving empty space to indicate boundaries. A series of models took shape as the break continued, each not quite proportional, twisted in slightly unnatural shapes. And they were not whole. On one, the shading stopped at the neck, oval head not quite attached. Another was just a torso, yet another was posed christ-like with lines dripping from its hands.

"That's cool." Wesley spoke the first words since lunch had started.

"Thanks." Kieran's voice had been scratchy and coarse back then.

Weslsy pointed at a person on the page. "Is he getting hanged?"

"Yeah." As if to clear up any confusion, the boy went over the line that indicated the noose again, scribbling harder until the page ripped just over the neck.

"Why all the death?" It sounded like a silly question as soon as it had left Wesley's lips. Because he was a teenager.

Kieran shrugged. "I watch a lot of horror movies and stuff. I wanna make one someday."

"Like, directing? Or acting?"

"Acting... or special effects, or something, I don't know." Kieran was distracted by drawing spikes around the outside of one of the figures, like an iron maiden surrounding it. "It's gotta be cool to be, like, the guy holding the big machete and seeing all the fake blood go everywhere when you swing it."

"Yeah. That does sound cool." Wesley gestured at the page, asking what again struck him immediately as a silly question. "Can you draw me?"

Kieran didn't hesitate. He found a mostly empty corner of the lined paper and started scratching a body into it with long hair, a crude approximation of his acquaintance. He paused once the figure was complete, his pen tip circling the doodle as if to decide what cruelty to subject Wesley to. Eventually he scrawled out forked shapes around him pointing inwards, as if ready to stab into his flesh.

"Forks?" They looked like dinner forks to Wesley.

"Supposed to be like, pitchforks," Kieran clarified, "like you're getting tortured in hell, y'know?"

"Oh. Yeah, I see it."

Kieran shrugged. "Could be forks too. Like cannibals are going to eat you." And Wesley nodded along. Weird kid.

***

"Did he do it?" That was all Wesley could think to say. He hadn't talked to Tammy Skinner in what... 5 or 6 years? The occasional happy birthday message or like on a photo would be shared on whatever social media he hadn't yet gotten rid of. She had gotten married at some point to a man who looked incapable of keeping a marriage, and her new baby didn't quite look like him. She was a virtual stranger now. But they shared this, this memory of the weird kid at school, that tied them together over all of that distance.

Tammy didn't respond right away. Wesley got up to grab dinner. Microwaved mac and cheese. By the time he got back, artificial cheese sauce staining the corner of his lips, he'd gotten something. "No idea."

"Well has he been charged or anything?"

"They don't have a body so they don't even know what happened to the guy." Now that she was at her computer, Tammy typed quickly. "But they searched the house and found a gun, so they're charging him on posession without a license. Probably just so they can keep him there."

Considering his next question thoroughly, Wesley typed out a few different variations before settling on one- "Do you think he did it?"

"Probably."

***

It would be innacurate to say that Wesley became friends with Kieran over the next few months. It was more like he became a minor fascination, drip-feeding tantalizing tidbits that needed to be deconstructed and put into context. Kieran got suspended once for flipping off the principal in a meeting about constant dress code violations. He listened to Swedish metal bands and owned a real record player. His dad wasn't in the picture. He took a bunch of medication, for "everything under the sun," he claimed. He had a cool folding knife that he brought to school one time. He tried LSD. He liked true crime shows. He played Call of Duty and Dark Souls.

Kieran was tall, lanky, tattooed and pierced, with dark hair that partially hid his face and a pair of big era-appropriate thick rim glasses. His nose was a little asymmetrical, like it had been broken years ago. His lips were chapped and tight. A few patches of facial hair were starting to show, light and wispy, betraying his youth below a much older looking facade. Wesley wouldn't have called him attractive before meeting him, but there was a sort of magic about the kid, this intensity that drew him in. But a constant rotation of girlfriends and his own teenage lack of confidence stopped him from acknowledging it.

It was only towards the end of senior year, as finals grinded on and girls shopped for their prom dresses, that something changed. Tammy was home sick again. Kieran and Wesley were alone again. It was mostly quiet again. And the months of fascination didn't make Wesley any more able to speak up- if anything, his nerves had grown until that conversation about pitchforks and cannibalism seemed impossible. But Kieran, scribbling new torture methods into his battered notebook, took the initiative. "What's your next class?"

"English," Wesley responded. It was probably his best class, and even then, it was questionable.

"Wanna skip?"

The question caught Wesley off guard. Not because he didn't skip classes- his grades indicated otherwise. But because Kieran had never joined him and Tammy in their secret hiding spot behind the soccer field, and he'd certainly never hung out with Wesley outside of school. "What'd you wanna do?"

"My mom's at work if you wanna come by my place," Kieran responded blithely, still doodling away. "I've got weed."

The promise of mind-altering drugs calmed Wesley's nerves a little, with the prospect of an excuse for his awkward behaviour looking almost as good as free weed. Still, this felt off. Maybe because Kieran had been a distant fascination for all these months, the idea seemed impossible- seeing his apartment, his bedroom, smoking with him. It was like zookeeper being locked in with the gorillas. Something about it felt dangerous, wrong. But the answer was still yes.

***

As evening ticked on into night and then early morning, Wesley could not stop reading. He hadn't felt this invested in something in years, since depression had dulled his senses. Local news articles were annoyingly sparse with details, only a few paragraphs each, regurgitating the same facts as each other. It built only a loose picture of events, but one he could understand well enough.

Just over a week ago, 26 year old Theo McCarthy had failed to show up for a scheduled therapy appointment, prompting a welfare check at his apartment. Police had arrived at his apartment to find that his roommate claimed not to have seen him for three days. He hadn't shown up for work in four days, after calling in sick the day before his disappearance. A missing person's report was filed, but his roommate refused to let the police search the apartment, leading to a search warrant being taken out and a discovery of an illegal firearm in the roommate's posession. No clue to McCarthy's whereabouts was found, according to the articles at least. Searches were still ongoing.

In the comments sections and Reddit threads about the disappearance, theories ranged from suicide to murder to an accident that had been covered up. A few brave commenters pointed out the simple fact that there was no reason to conclude he was dead, though of course this less sensational view of things was met with heavy downvotes from true crime enthusiasts. The conclusion of most, it seemed, was that his roommate had shot him and dumped his body in the nearby lake. It only made sense.

Kieran's Facebook page was a ghost town, but it didn't take much scrolling through his friend list to find the missing roommate's page. Clicking a photo of a smiling young man at a beach, he was brought to an equally barren profile- Theo was the same age as Wesley. He had studied at the local college, and went to a high school on the other side of town. He didn't have a listed job. His last post, a photo of him with his family at the beach from which his profile picture had been cropped, was littered with well wishes that transitioned over time to thoughts and prayers for his wellbeing.

Another message came through from Tammy. "They set his bail pretty high, so I think they're trying to keep him in there till he confesses or something."

Wesley glanced back at Kieran's profile picture, at his thick furrowed brows and his crooked nose and his cracked lips. And he typed a response. "How much?"

[yes-i-am-happyaspie]

peter finds a monkey loose in queens and brings it to tony just as the news starts talking about the missing monkey (loosely inspired by that situation with the dallas zoo a bit ago!)

Excellent prompt, my friend. This mini turned out to be completely chaotic and I love that for all of us. Haha

This one is also cutting it close to the 1k limit at 971 words.

[Side note: Thank you to everyone who has sent prompts in. I have at least two more I plan to write over the next couple of days, so be sure to check out the tag #happyaspie mini fic. For those who are new, all mini fics are eventually added AO3 but they are always posted here first!]

Literal Monkey Business

As Peter was zipping through the city, a sight that wasn’t terribly unusual caught his eye. At the edge of Central Park, below a vast tree, was a child standing on his toes with his arms stretched upward. As he swooped toward the ground, he wondered if he’d be saving a stranded cat or kite.

“Hey, kiddo,” he greeted, then happily narrowed the eyes of the spider-man mask. “What up?”

“A monkey,” the little boy giggled while trying to grab the lower branches. “There’s a monkey up there!”

Peter canted his head to the side and gave the child a contemplative look. He appeared to be no older than six with his brightly colored school bag. He wondered if the boy was simply playing; something to entertain himself on his way home from school. Although the kid was being rather persistent for an innocent game of pretend.

Cautiously, he looked through the leaves, and sure enough, sat right at the top of the tree was a decent-sized light grayish-brown monkey. “There really is a monkey,” he mused aloud. “I wonder where it came from.”

“Can you catch him?” the boy pleaded. “Please, Spider-man? I want to take him home with me!”

Peter took a deep breath and swayed his head. “I’ll catch him,” he said, “but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to take him home. He’s not a pet. I need to figure out where he belongs, so he can go back to his family, okay?”

“You’ll take him back to his family?” The boy asked.

“That’s what would be best for him,” Peter said, then looked down an adjacent street lined with colorful rowhouses. “And you too. I bet there’s someone waiting for you at home.”

“Yeah,” the child sighed, Then with a small wave, he ran toward the sidewalk shouting, “Bye Spider-Man!” as he went.

Satisfied that the kid was back on track to get home, Peter focused on the animal that was eyeing warily from above. He wasn’t exactly sure how he was supposed to go about catching him. Literal monkey business simply wasn’t in his usual repertoire.

“Hi there, Mr. Monkey,” he whispered as he began ascending the tree. “Wanna home? I can help you.”

However, the monkey didn’t seem to understand or care about his intentions. The moment Peter was within arms reach the creature squeaked indignantly and took off into another tree. “Ah, come on, George! Can I call you George? You look like a George,” Peter rambled as he shot a web onto a lamp post and pulled himself in the monkey’s direction. However, the monkey was quick to abandon his new location in favor of another.

“George, please!” he shouted as followed behind the leaping monkey. What Peter had hoped would be a simple task was turning into a wild monkey chase. Every time he’d gained an edge, the animal would abruptly change directions causing him to fall slightly behind.

“You know,” Peter groused, mid-turn. “If you don’t stop running from me, I’m going to have to change your name from George to Mojo Jojo. Is that what you want? You want this to be your villain origin story?”

It took a while but eventually, Peter was able to strategically get ahead of the illusive monkey and nab him from behind. Things didn’t get easier from there. The monkey strained and wriggled with all his might trying to get out of Peter’s sticky grasp.

“Calm down, Georgie Jojo,” Peter hissed, while expertly dodging the paws that were slapping up against this mask. “I’m trying to help you!”

The monkey did not calm down.

Peter sighed as he kept the squirming animal at arm's length. “Sorry, little guy. But I can’t wing with you moving around like this. We’re going to have to-” he said, pausing as he shot a few webs and hurriedly fashioned them into what amounted to an infant front carrier.

“There. You can ride here while I swing,” he said, already aiming his webs at the closest building. “I don’t know where you came from, but I know who to ask.”

“Hey, Mr. Stark!” Peter said as walked into the lab, sans mask and with a finally semi-calm monkey attached to his chest. “Do you know where-” he began, but Tony appeared and instantly started talking over him.

“Why do you have that monkey?”

“Uh, I found him?” Peter replied.

“Where?” Tony asked, an unreadable expression crossing his face.

“In Central Park. And I thought that was kind of an odd place to find a monkey so I brought him here. I thought you might be able to help me figure out where he came from.”

Tony huffed an amused laugh, gestured towards the television, and signaled for FRIDAY to raise the volume. The newscaster was standing just outside the Central Park Zoo discussing the escape of the park’s youngest Snow Monkey.

“Oh,” Peter said, feeling a little silly for not even considering the monkey may have come from the very local zoo. Especially since it was no more than a mile from where the boy had found him.

“Yeah, oh” Tony gleefully repeated. “You up for swinging him all the way back, or should I make a call?”

Peter looked down at the monkey, who was just starting to become restless again and shook his head. If he was being honest, the animal was starting to grow on him. “I’ll take him,” he decided but made a point of having FRIDAY snap a few pictures of his new friend before leaving.

Later, photographs and videos of Peter’s monkey chase went viral. Mostly the ones of him with the animal safely strapped to his chest. Because of that, no one was surprised when the snow monkey exhibit became one of Spider-Man’s favorite places to hang out.

[gabessquishytum]

hihihi its me the student-looking dream anon, i read your post about it and now i cant stop thinking about the whole situation between the two of them. like, dream def wouldnt want to just stop the whole charade out of nowhere, how would hob explain that to his students? to his colleagues? theres no way to politely tell them "my husband is essentially an immortal shapeshifter, he's actually billions of years my senior, and hes taken on a new look so we're the same age now haha. my bad". so maybe dream decides that for this version of hobs life until he fakes his death again, however many years that might be, he'll keep it up. and hes having fun

but after a while the students get used to it. the gossip's spread around and died out and students know that dr gadling's dating that goth twink 20 years younger than him, but that's old news. dream, of course, prince of stories king of nightmares queen of drama etc etc, may not be able to admit it aloud to other people, but was absolutely loving all of the attention he got from humans in hob's life because of it. strange looks and over personal questions would've been upsetting had they been directed towards Dream Of The Endless, but right now he's Morpheus, dr gadling's far younger partner, and he feels like he has a massive secret no one else is in on and man is he horny about it.

so, the attention comes and goes and now hes bored again. he considered switching their roles and having himself be the older partner for a while, but it wouldn't be as scandalous for a mid-30s university professor to date someone older than him (plus the above mentioned complexity of shapeshifting), so thats off the list. but then of course, he had overheard a few people ask if he ws hobs sugar baby, and wouldnt that be interesting?

so now whenever he visits hob during classes, he'll make a comment thanking him for the new clothes, for expensive jewelry, for having reservations to take him out to dinner later later that night, how could he ever show how grateful he is to be spoiled so much? and hob, of course, is just completely stunned, confused, intimidated, aroused, etc, the whole 9 yards. the students gossip some more, attention is on dream all over again, people cant decide whether they pity him or are jealous of him and he cant get enough of it. (he'd definitely make himself some expensive-looking designer adjacent clothes to flaunt, wearing a new elaborate outfit each day, so that to an unknowing human he's being absolutely lavished)

theres no telling how long itll take for the students on campus to forget about the whole ordeal and find something new to whisper about, but dream's already come up with a list of "sexual things to say in front of hob & students to keep things interesting", including but not limited to phrases that include words like "punishment" and "reward" and "discrete" and "really, while youre at work? well, if you say so"

-🖋 anon (is that used ?)

I'm so weak for a sugar daddy au, and somehow a fake sugar daddy au is even better 😂 I just absolutely love this, dear anon. And while I'm still recovering from 19 year old Tom Sturridge, I'm also imagining him decked out in the finest designer gear (plus accessories. new earrings every week). Hob doesn't even know where half the stuff comes from, he suspects that Dream is literally plucking it from the dreams of the designers before it's even been created. Occasionally Dream will do something particularly daring and attention grabbing (he memorably shows up to a lecture in YSL heels, and the entire student body has an absolute crisis). At this point Dream is now a Campus Celebrity (although nobody knows his name). He gets interviewed for campus TV when they have a "rate my outfit" kind of thing going on. He's meticulously goes through each part of his outfit and he's like "Oh, my boyfriend bought me this... and this too. I couldn't possibly show you what I'm wearing underneath. He wouldn't approve..."

The staff are choosing to ignore the whole thing, because no one can pin down Dream as a student at the university. Sure its morally dubious to date someone who looks like a teenager, but if it's not breaking any rules... so Dream has to up his game to get Hob’s colleagues to pay attention. He starts sending lewd pictures to Hob’s phone at inopportune moments, sidling up and whispering in his ear. Wraps his arms around Hob and glares at anyone who so much as smiles at him, as if to say - this one's mine, get your own.

And in the privacy of Hob’s office, Dream spends his time fucking his sugar daddy nice and hard, just as an extra remind that Dream is very much in charge.

[p5x-theories]

Discussion: Which P5X character do you think would work best as a member of the original Phantom Thieves?

It can be for any reason, something like character dynamics, powers, or even just a design fitting in.

Oh, that’s a good question! And a tough one, hmm... I might actually break this down based on different categories, rather than just one character across the board?

Because, to start out, from a story perspective, I think Puppet might be the easiest one to literally fit into something like an additional Palace within the P5 storyline.

She’s a politician’s daughter, which sort of reflects Haru except that Haru’s dad hadn’t quite actually made it into politics yet. Puppet’s family, or maybe at least someone causing problems for Puppet’s family, could potentially be someone the Phantom Thieves come across in between Okumura and Sae’s Palaces, or something. (Though, in the meta sense, that probably would’ve slowed down the plot momentum at that point. But strictly in terms of something you could slot reasonably into the story)

Puppet ran away from home, as well, which could potentially provide the deadline for changing, for instance, her father’s heart (days until her father involves the police/starts a search for her, or something)

As for character dynamics, I think- okay, there’s no way to answer this one totally unbiased, haha, and it’s also tricky because it’s really easy to favor characters we know more about. So I’ll go about it this way:

Tomoko, Kiyoshi, Kayo, Yaoling, and Yui currently feel the least like the characters that are already in the Phantom Thieves, to me, so they’d be the most likely to introduce something new into the group? 

Tomoko parallels Shiho, who’s not on the team (though, as Ann’s friend, isn’t completely separate)

None of the PT are chuunibyou like Kiyoshi seems to be (not to mention an excorcist theme might be kind of funny alongside Makoto)

We don’t have any adult women on the team, across the P5 games, and Kayo in particular doesn’t overlap any existing teammate too much (maybe Ann is the closest, but they’re distinct)

Yaoling is from another country, and generally seems to have a slightly different demeanor than any single current member of the PT

Yui’s inherently interesting as a teammate who we haven’t met in person, and even her Will of Rebellion is based on her online game character

I know I also talked about character dynamics that I could imagine between the Wonder Squad and the Phantom Thieves in this post, haha, though that was during the second beta

Design-wise is another one that’s sort of subjective, though Wonder might be the automatic winner by default considering he literally has the same character designer, heh. That said:

There’s sort of a Phantom Thieves general color scheme pattern of primarily black/a dark color + a bright, saturated color. Obviously not every one of the Thieves fits this perfectly (Panther, you could argue Fox, prince Crow, Sophie, and however you might want to categorize Toshiro and/or Erina), but enough of them do that it’s sort of what I think for it. So going from there: 

Okyann, with her black and yellow

Puppet, with her black/grey and blue/cyan

Rin, with her black/dark brown and red

Maybe Soy and Moko, though I feel they maybe disrupt the color balance there a bit

On the other hand, there’s also just who feels most like a Phantom Thief, which is way more subjective, but for me, I’d probably list Moko (in a Robin Hood sort of way), Yuki (she puts the “phantom” in “Phantom Thief”), Okyann (she’s adjacent to like a heist/villainess cat suit, to me), Rin (she feels very “phantom thief but with clear Chinese influence”), and maybe Sepia but in kind of an “adult man who threw together the best Phantom Thief outfit he could on short notice from a costume store to try to impress the teens” sort of way, haha

As for powers, that one’s kinda tricky, since their powers literally are more unique and less “standardized” (so to speak) than the ones in the mainline Persona games, with more unique features. And I don’t have a super great grasp on all the differences yet, let alone what unique things the original Phantom Thieves themselves have been given, so it’s hard to say what might fit in best? So I might skip that category, if that’s alright, haha.

But definitely feel free to reply/reblog this with your own ideas, if you’re seeing this post and thinking something else!

[f1byjessie]

PART 7 !!!!! once again been a rough day (what’s new), and i just saw you updated :) in your author’s note you said you weren’t sure how you felt about it, but i love love loved it !! the banter between y/n and the mclaren admin was so funny i loved it, and seeing the man city guys supporting in her comments was just so precious :) and i LOVE. the way you write y/n and oscar’s friendship ! it makes so much sense for them and the fact that he’s her escape (and vice versa) just makes my heart happy :) oscar always knows more than he lets on and i KNOW he picks up on everything between her and lando and him supporting her, but also encouraging her to go to lando and talk it out themselves is so🫶🫶🫶i hope you’ve been doing well and i’m excited for more :)

I was really torn up about part seven and whether or not it was good, but the fact that you enjoyed it so much is really encouraging! It probably WAS just me having stared at it too long and that's what was influencing my opinion of it 😅.

But yes! I like to imagine our dear Y/N and the admin are friends due to the fact that their jobs are so closely adjacent to one another, since they would probably be interacting quite a bit. So, the banter between the two of them is my own little humorous easter egg with that.

The Manchester City "arc", for lack of better term, is over but the lads will still have their moments in the future! I'm such a sucker for those boys that, even with her having left for the new season, I didn't want to completely stop writing for them. The animosity between them and Garrett is also very important, too, and may or may not be playing a crucial role coming soon 😉.

As for Oscar, I always envision him as being the type of friend that wouldn't really put up with any bullshit. He seems very no nonsense-y, like he'd be honest with someone that was making poor life choices or generally just being stupid, and I think that type of personality is definitely needed at this part of the story haha!

But thank you so much for sending this, I look forward to each of these after every part is posted, and this one really has made my day ❤️.

[because-im-a-mirrorball]

hey there marybeth it’s been awhile!! how are you? lots of things to Catch up On in my world! the job i was just starting the last time we talked ended up fiRing me after 3 months because i called their maNager out for stealing tips from our tip share so. that’s fun! not the best first entry into the workforce but it’s ok. my eras tour show was so aMazing, and i actually ended up standing outside the stadium in pittsbUrgh which was really fun!! i also went on a major Family vacation (not saying where because i’ve talked about it on my main haha) and it was incredible. but enough about me, what’s new with you? what are your plans for this Fall? my fall is going to be filled with school, volleyball, and mIssing my sister as she just left for college :( see you sooN!

CORN MUFFIN ANON MY BELOVED!!!! 🌽🧁 @cornmuffinanon sounds like you’ve had much going on!! I’m so glad you had a great time at the eras tour, I did too! I saw her in Atlanta and then was in the parking lot for Seattle and just loved it.

I did my student teaching Jan-April and just loved it. Loved my cooperating teacher, loved my kids, loved teaching. Passed edTPA!! Which was just disgustingly stressful and was a huge contributor to me absolutely disappearing from here.

I graduated college back in May, moved across the country, and am currently job hunting for a teaching position. I actually have 2 or 3 interviews this week so fingers crossed for that 🤞🏻🤞🏻. School doesn’t start til after Labor Day where I live now so that’s a weird schedule adjustment in my brain and it’s stressing me that I don’t have a full teaching position yet. I’m set up to substitute if nothing else, but I’d really ideally like my own classroom.

Let’s see, what else is new with me? Since last we spoke, I dated a guy for 2 months then got dumped 4 days after putting a label on it bc I was moving and he didn’t want to do long distance (he knew the entire time we dated that I was moving and we specifically discussed it when we labeled it). Good news with that though is that I got him into Taylor Swift so now he can never listen to her and not think of me :) small wins ya know?

Anyway so I moved and I’m much closer to my family (read: I moved back in with my parents and sibling after 3 years living alone… big change) but it’s nice to not be on total opposite sides of the country. I’ve managed to start making some friends/friend adjacent people with the group I found for dnd.

I’ve been reading TONS more this year, most especially this summer. From May to now, I’ve read 35 books! And total of 48 so far this year. My goal is 52 books and to read at least 1 page every day and ive met that so far! I have a 232 day reading streak. Best book find of this year by far is The House Witch series by Delemhach. It’s about this witch who becomes the cook for this king and castle of people and his magic all revolves around making people in his home feel safe and welcome 🥹🥹 it’s just so sweet and cozy and low stakes, while still having a compelling story and it’s SO funny!!!

I’m really in the fall mood and so excited for pumpkin spice to return this week 🍂🍁

Anyway there’s my life update ramble, thanks for listening Corn Muffin Anon!! I love you and hope you have the best day