#did you ask for five paragraphs? you got them!!!

[limnsaber]

(CAR SCREECHING) (CAT YOWLING) (GLASS SHATTERING) (THINGS FALLING) (PERSON SCREAMING) (BUSTING DOWN YOUR DOOR)

LUKE SKYWALKER FOR BLORBO BINGO

Hello!!! Thank you I have to say I love your sound effects

BLORBO BINGO: LUKE SKYWALKER

Luke Skywalker!!! Luke is so much to me. In the same way that these are the movies ever, (literally they changed the course of history indelibly), Luke Skywalker is the most main character to ever main character. He's the embodiment of hope for so many generations and is a superb example of a chivalric hero, acting out of hope and love, but he's also reckless as hell and insanely durable and makes morbid comments mostly to himself and goes through a character arc so intensely that it nearly makes him unrecognizable from how we knew him and changed the galaxy forever.

Changed the galaxy forever for good. Luke Skywalker bore witness to the truest dark, he saw the darkest parts of the universe and waded knee-deep in them, and then stepped out. He said, "I choose my friends and what I believe in. I'd rather die before I let myself become you."

When told his fate by two opposing advisors, he chose neither, and wrote his own fate according to what he felt was most true. In doing so, he saved the galaxy, and arguably more important to Luke, his father's soul. SUCH A GUY!!!!

Luke is so peculiar to me. <- referring here to my star wars hyperfixation. Because I was born at a time where I have never not had Star Wars in my life. I can't recall a time not knowing Star Wars in some way shape or form. It's a large portion of my childhood, which is something that can be said by so many people-- I feel that that's just a statement that displays how impactful Star Wars, and Luke Skywalker the Guy of All Time, was to children, and even adults, as a hero, and how he/SW endures.

It's peculiar to me because there are two Lukes in my mind. One is the fandom one I brush shoulders with every once in a while, and one is the one from my childhood. That Luke Skywalker lives with me, representative of every childhood hope and ideal. Luke Skywalker, truly, feels like an old friend.

[zukkaoru]

forming one-sided beef with my sister's english teacher

[crossbackpoke-check]

Okay so this is gonna sound very unhinged

But the screenshot you posted of the doc for Omega Yamo had text

And I may have zoomed in and been able to decipher the words

And I’m obsessed with there being more than one Alpha in that scenario

And I think you’re a genius and I love your writing even though I probably wasn’t supposed to be able to read it

Again I’m sorry for being so insane but I couldn’t help it 🙃

SCREAMINGGGG anon i am in love with you. i appreciate the level of unhinged sooo much, the only thing you have to be sorry for is inflating my ego to an enormous size

howmstever!!! i may have tricked you!!! there are actually two omega yamo fics in the works 🤐🤫 they just happen to exist in the same document right now because ??? why not

[redflowersociety]

Saying “I Love You” for the first time. - Mouthwashing HC

These are written with the pretense that… THEY LIKE U BACK!! (Except for Swansea cause he’s married…sorri) THIS WAS SO PAINFUL CAUSE I WAS WRITING THEM IN PARAGRAPHS AND THEN… boom. 1000+ words lost. Never writing on tumblr again, rookie mistake. Anyways, enjoy!! Promise next post will be higher effort

Curly (Pre-Crash)

He’s quick to make a teasing comment on your unprofessionalism, confessing to your captain and all. But he’s honestly super flustered and trying not to grin like a kid on Christmas Day.

He takes a moment to sit with it. It’s likely that you two would have made advances toward each other for a while, as Curly is the type to take things slow if he’s serious. After a year of pining, you two were finally dating! But hearing those words from your lips brought him to such happiness because he knew you meant it unconditionally, without expecting anything from him.

After this instance, it became common practice for both of you to remind the other of your love. Curly had never been a “words-of-affirmation” kind of guy, but this was an exception. “I love you” turned into his favorite phrase, as it was the perfect way to release the tension building in his heart from just how badly he had fallen for you.

Curly (Post-Crash)

He honestly couldn’t believe that you could stomach looking at him, let alone still sit with romantic feelings for him. It brought him to tears when he heard it, unable to comprehend how somebody could show him such boundless affection and care. He wasn’t used to unconditional love.

He forced himself through the immense pain to slur the words back, and that’s when you began to cry. He forced it out again and again, until you convinced him through pleading not to speak. You knew how much it hurt him, so you assured him that knowing was enough. You didn’t need the reassurance.

Upon your return to Earth, Curly not only had surgeries to make his face a little more structurally sound, but he had attended speech therapy to make up for the years he spent in near silence. One of the first things he learned was your name, and then “I love you.” It brought you to tears hearing it again for the first time in so long. It was okay though, as he could hold you in his scarred arms as long as you needed to cry it all out.

Daisuke

At first, he thought you were being silly. “Aww, I love you too,” he giggled. It wasn’t until you spoke up again with a more serious tone that he realized, and you swear you’d never seen a man turn red so fast. He was so taken aback, asking you at least five times if you were serious and if you were sure. Once his nerves were satisfied, he returned the gesture.

“I love you too. Like a lot, a lot. Soooo much. Like, I really thought I was tweaking out or something from like, the way my whole body would go numb around you and my brain would get fuzzy-“ his drawn out explanation on how his romantic feelings for you overwhelmed him made you laugh. Within the next day, you two were dating.

Even before you two got together, Daisuke ranted to anybody who would listen about just how perfect you were. Now? Oh, man. Swansea has been really considering throwing him out into space after hearing about your confession for the twentieth time from his loud-ass mouth.

Anya

It was honestly a relief to her that you had said something first. She had been trying her best to stay professional, but seeing you all the time, your smile and laugh, the way you spoke passionately about what you loved; it made it harder every day as she fell further for you. You were one of the first people she grew close to on the Tulpar, and the first she went to when Jimmy… did what he did. The trust between you both was ample and strong.

She was quick to say it back, like it was a breath of air she’d been holding in way too long and needed out. You two laughed from the sheer relief on her face, teasing her thoroughly about it. She didn’t hesitate to grill you right back for being the one who confessed first. It shut you up pretty fast. You both agreed within the hour to start dating!

There were mixed reactions among the crew. Some extremely supportive, and then some straight up bitter and resentful (Jimbo). Jimmy began to treat you especially cruelly, and you refused to stand by and let it happen. Curly also helped to defend you when he could, seemingly coming to his senses about Jimmy’s behavior. You could tell that Anya felt intense guilt for your pain, but you assured her that it wasn’t her fault. It was your decision to date her knowing everything you did. You were happy by her side. She certainly cried over that privately, completely enamored.

Swansea

Swansea is married, so he knew to take your words in a familial sense. He didn’t return it, saying something like, “You’d better kid. With all I do for you.” But when you him on his lonesome in the utility room? Yeah, he smiled about it.

f you had a bad childhood due to your parents, Swansea could tell pretty quick. He never considered it his problem, but even still, he took you under his wing with Daisuke. He wanted to give you guidance in the ways he knew how. You deserved that, at least. He would go out of his way to help you when you needed, mostly with solving practical problems. He had never been the most emotionally aware, but he tried with you. He figured even if he couldn’t assist you much, it’d be good practice for his daughter on the way.

That’s not to say he never had any advice. He struggled to comfort, but he was quick to pick up on your mistakes and told you the blatant truth. You appreciated that, even if he was harsh at times, cause it helped you become a better person.

Jimmy

Your confession was certainly an ego boost, but nothing past that. He couldn’t believe that you could say something like “I love you” to someone like him without there being pity behind it. Even still, he returned the gesture because he knew that getting with you would make you so much easier to use. He took the opportunity.

The entire crew, aside from you two, were completely flabbergasted when they found out you two were together. Swansea was quick to ask “Why,” hoping to understand the reason behind such a horrible decision on your part. He didn’t get a good answer from you. Anya felt such pity for you, sure that a good person like you had been manipulated into that position. Even still, she couldn’t help you without putting herself in danger, so she kept her distance.

After the crash, Jimmy took out all his frustrations on you in private through abuse: sexual, physical, verbal, and however else he felt in the moment. Nobody was confused when you started wearing more covering clothes beneath your uniform. Swansea was the only one to really step up against Jimmy when he found that he was hurting you. You had to beg Swansea not to kill Jimmy for that alone, and even still, jimmy got a beating. Daisuke checked on you as much as possible, worrying constantly for your well being. Curly found your relationship to be one more thing to feel guilt over, as he once again couldn’t do a single thing to protect somebody from him.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Make it Real

summary: your best friend Tyler finds your smutty books and offers to help make your fantasies a reality

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) choking, spanking

based on this request by @thespillingvoid

Tyler had somehow beat you to your apartment, which never happened on nights you worked. He knew you wouldn’t mind so he let himself in, knowing exactly where the key was hidden. The two of you were supposed to have a movie night and had gotten there first which never seemed to happen.

He had never been in your apartment alone, so he took the opportunity to snoop, knowing that you wouldn’t have cared if he went through your stuff.

He went to your desk in the kitchen and sat down at it, opening the middle drawer to see a small notebook along with a container filled with highlighters, pens, and markers. There were also some bookmarks and a stack of unopened packages of tabs.

Tyler grabbed the notebook and set it down on the desk before opening it to the first page to see a small photo of a book cover. Next to it were five stars and only three of them were colored in. So that was how you tracked what you read.

But he couldn’t help but notice a group of five peppers underneath the stars. Only two of them were colored in and he wondered what they signified. This seemed to be a whole new world he had entered since reading had never been his thing.

He made a beeline for your room, wanting to look at your bookshelf since you never seemed to let him any time he came over. What could you have been hiding? It couldn’t have been that bad, could it? After all, it was just a bunch of words on pages, right?

Tyler let his eyes scan over your many bookshelves, wanting to find the perfect one to read. They were all organized very neatly and he was not trying to ruin that in any way since he had helped you put them on once he had the shelves built.

He just wanted to know why you were hiding them from him even though he knew it was wrong.

His gaze fell on one that had a very intriguing title and he plucked it from the shelf and noticed that there were many tabs in it. He flipped to one of the pages and noticed that one of them had a highlighted paragraph. His eyes glanced over it and he felt his cheeks heat as he realized what he was reading. It was titled “Rev My Engine” so he didn’t know why he was surprised by what was inside.

“It seems that you need to be taught a lesson,” Sam told Eliana as he grabbed hold of her throat, giving it a gentle squeeze. His fingers were pumping in and out of her cunt, feeling it getting even wetter as his grip tightened. He had her right where he wanted her and she seemed to be into it considering how her eyes were glazed over.

“What the fuck?” He whispered to himself, confused, but simultaneously intrigued by what was on the page. That didn’t surprise him, but what did was that you, sweet, innocent- seeming you had been reading something so…filthy.

Tyler sat down on the edge of your bed and flipped back to the first page to see how the couple had gotten to that point. Even though he didn’t read much, he had to admit that his interest was piqued. He was so invested, in fact, that he hadn’t even heard you come in. It wasn’t until he heard you clear your throat that he remembered where he was.

“What are you doing?” You asked, setting your purse down by the door and Tyler felt his cheeks burn as he had been caught.

“I was just-“ he tried to come up with an excuse, but it was deemed useless as he was still holding the book.

“You were just what, Tyler?” You marched over to him to take the book from his hand, but he held it out of your grasp, a shit-eating grin on his lips.

“I haven’t finished it. You can have it back when I’m done, darlin’.” He then stood from the bed and moved to the door, racing out of it and into the hallway.

You followed, hot on his heels as you heard his laughs echoing down the hallway. He got to the living room and stood on the couch, holding it completely out of your reach even when you had climbed up with him.

“I had no idea you were into this kind of stuff, y/n,” he teased. “I mean, you’re so shy and innocent, but I should have guessed since it always seems to be the quiet ones.”

Your cheeks were now burning with embarrassment. You knew that Tyler was just teasing, but you still couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. People had always been weird about you reading that kind of content, but what they didn’t know was that you mostly sought it out because real men couldn’t seem to please you so you had to take matters into your own hands.

“I do have a question for you though,” he said, flipping through the pages. “Why read this, when you could have the real thing?”

You leaned close to him, reaching for the book, but you still couldn’t get to it. Your body was now pressed to his and if you could feel how hard he was, you didn’t say anything.

“Tyler, I’ve told you all about my sex life and I’m not really comfortable-”

“No-” he interrupted. “I mean, why not have the real thing…with me?” You froze in that moment, staring up at him with wide eyes, your mouth agape.

You let go of him, his question finally setting in. He wanted to sleep with you? Was this only because he had found your book or had he actually been wanting to sleep with you and this was the best way for him to bring it up?

“With you?” You asked and he nodded, hopping down from the couch before offering you his hand. You hesitantly took it and it was like electricity was shooting through you. You were now suddenly aware of how soft but rough his hand was.

“Yes,” he nodded, his green eyes boring into yours. “With me. If you want to. No pressure.”

You thought about it for a second, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and Tyler watched you, finding himself wanting to be the one to bite down on it and he kissed you until you were both breathless.

“Okay,” you nodded. “Let’s do this.”

Without a word, Tyler grabbed you by the back of your neck, pressing his lips to yours. You were quick to respond, grabbing onto his shirt, pulling him even closer to you before wrapping your arms around his waist while his free hand went to the small of your back.

You and Tyler had never kissed before, but there was something about it that felt right, your lips slotting together like two puzzle pieces. His were soft and warm and you flicked your tongue across it, wanting to know if he tasted as good as he always smelled.

He tasted like a mixture of mint and tobacco and while normally you would have thought it was gross, this time, you couldn’t get enough, letting your tongue roam all over his mouth to taste as much of him as you could.

A moan fell from your lips at the feeling of his tongue scraping against yours and you could feel Tyler’s dick getting even harder against you. His hands moved down to the bottom of your shirt, slipping it off to reveal your bra. It was a black, lacy thing that left little up to the imagination.

“Oh, what is this?” he asked, his eyes going dark. “Were you wanting someone to see it?”

“I-I have a ton of them. I don’t wear them for anyone, I wear them for me. To make me feel good about myself.”

“That’s really admirable. It’s hot,” he said, His nose brushing along your jaw. “You’re hot.” He then buried his face into your neck, peppering the spot with kisses as you tilted your head to the side, letting your eyes close as his kisses got longer, his tongue swiping back and forth along your skin.

Tyler began to suck on the spot and you moaned again, your back arching into him. He could feel your heartbeat hammering and chuckled to himself that he of all people could make you feel that way.

His teeth slid along the spot and you let out a gasp before melting into him, letting his hand come up and support your head as he continued to work.

“I bet your fictional men can’t do this, can they?” He chuckled before diffusing the sting with his tongue.

“D-definitely not,” you replied, trying your best to not sound out of breath. “Tyler, I think I’m gonna-” your words were cut off by a loud moan falling from your lips, your back arching again.

“Wow, I haven’t even gotten inside you and you’re already coming for me?” He pressed a kiss to your lips. “That must be a new record. Now c’mon, let’s go somewhere more private, hm?”

You couldn’t even respond to him, your head feeling cloudy as your body went limp in his arms. Your legs were starting to feel weak and Tyler picked you up and carried you to your bed, setting you down on it gently.

You removed your jeans and underwear while Tyler did the same. You reached for a condom in the drawer of your bedside table, watching him roll it onto his massive cock before he climbed onto top of you.

“Feel free to be as loud as you want. Tell me what you like, what you don’t. And if you want to stop, let me know and we can. I want you to enjoy this. That’s my number one priority. This is about you.”

“About me?” You asked, feeling your eyes getting a little misty. You had only slept with one other person. It was your freshman year of college and all he had done was get inside you and pump a few times before he came then pulled out before he left. It seemed that he just cared about himself, leaving you to finish up the job.

Ever since then, you had been afraid to sleep with anyone else. But Tyler was different. You were confident that he could make you feel good, that he would be attentive and nothing but sweet the entire time.

“All you. What do you want me to do?” He asked, one of his hands cupping your cheeks.

“I want you inside me, please,” you asked, your voice soft. Tyler liked himself up with you and slowly inserted himself, watching your every move.

He began to thrust, starting slowly to warm you up. He usually liked it rough, but this time he was going to be soft and gentle because that was what you deserved. He knew all about your first time and was intending on giving you one that you deserved.

He watched you underneath him, his mind wandering to that passage he had read in your book. You read about choking, but did that mean that you were actually into it? Maybe he’d try it out later when you had gotten used to him.

You grabbed onto him as you bucked your hips into his as he grabbed onto your hips, his thrusts getting a little faster, just trying to match your energy.

“Faster,” you breathed. “Harder.”

He did as you asked and your moans were like music to his ears, especially when it was his name that fell from your lips. He never thought your friendship would get to this point, but now that it had, he could imagine being in a relationship with you. He wasn’t really that kind of guy, but for you? He could be. He would be anything you asked.

“Just like that,” you said, continuing to buck your hips against his.

“Yeah?” He asked, his thrusts becoming even harder and faster. “You like that?”

“So good,” you moaned, bucking your hips against his again and again with more force each time. He let out moans of his own and you felt yourself getting even more wet at the sounds. They were hot and breathy and were definitely going to live rent free in your head for the rest of your life.

“Doing so good, darlin’,” he cooed. “I think you deserve a treat.”

“What? Are you gonna choke me?” You asked, batting your lashes.

“Do you want me to choke you?”

“I do,” you nodded. “Please.”

His hand wrapped around your neck and squeezed, but not enough to actually do anything. He then began to pound into you as his grip on your neck tightened, more moans falling from your lips, your breathing becoming even more labored.

“Yeah? You like this, huh?” He asked and all you could do was nod.

“What else do you like? handcuffs?” You shook your head and Tyler let go, realizing that he was choking a bit too hard.

“I-I want to be spanked,” you replied once you could breathe again. Tyler took no time to flip you over so that you were on top of him.

He helped you lie flat on top of him as he leaned up to kiss you, his hands resting flat on your back, sliding down slowly until they reached your ass. He put a hand on each cheek and gave them a squeeze, catching you off guard, causing you to accidentally bite down on his bottom lip.

“Sorry,” you apologized with a sheepish smile.

“That’s okay,” he replied. “Just kiss it better, hm?” He pecked his bottom lip and he smiled up at you, his eyes darkening as his hands lifted from your ass, giving it a rough smack, causing you to let out a yelp.

“Again,” you commanded.

“Honey, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Well, I do. That’s the point, Ty.”

“Alright, but you asked for it, sweetheart.” He smacked your ass again and again as you buried your face into his neck as if elicited moan after moan from you.

You were crying into his shoulder, begging for more until the skin felt raw. Tyler honestly never would have guessed you would have been into any of that, but he was more than willing to match your freak, having no intention of shaming you for what you were into, just wanting to go with the flow.

Tyler flipped you over again gently then pulled out of you before cleaning the two of you up. He then helped you put on some pajamas and grabbed some of his own that he usually left there before he changed.

Once the both of you were dressed, you climbed into bed, Tyler pulling you to his chest like normal. Your arms wrapped around each other and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“So same thing in the morning?” You asked, looking up at him with an adorable smile.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, darlin’,” he chuckled and the two of you drifted off to sleep, wrapped up in each other’s arms just like usual.

[pixxyofice]

🏰 cursinguponcastles

of course i manage to grab everything EXCEPT for my anxiety medications. they're still stuck there!! in the House!!! every night I worry my friends are going to leave me for asking them to come along and some part of my brain is like "you wouldn't be worrying if you had taken your meds" and I have to then tell my brain the meds. ARE NOT WITH ME!!!

(this post is unrebloggable.)

-

(anon) asked:

plum? how have you been running this blog without anxiety meds?

🏰 cursinguponcastles replied:

Um! How did you know I didn't have my anxiety meds??

-

(anon) asked:

Don't the Houses keep stuff, like, forever? I'm sure if you go back to that House you'll be able to get your meds back. Unless it's like, frozen or something?

🏰 cursinguponcastles replied:

Oh. Ohhhh. Well, um! I am going back to get them! They're back in Dormont! I just won't be focused on getting my meds when I'm there, you know??

-

🎗 ribbpeat reblogged from 🍑 yetanotherfinepeach

🍑 yetanotherfinepeach

so was anyone going to tell me the savior of vaugarde runs a horror blog account or was I supposed to just find that out from her APPARENTLY LEAVING HER MEDS IN THE CENTER FREEZING POINT

-

🍙 chateau-riceballs reblogged from 🧦 socks-to-be

🍯 lovelyhoney-truths

and just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, the savior of vaugarde turns out to be a tumblr user

🛴 offowchmy-nkee

and this is bad... how?

🍯 lovelyhoney-truths

How is this not obvious to you people? She's on tumblr. She's been ACTIVE. Instead of doing her job of saving us she's been giggling about her little vaugarde boys getting eaten. I'm sitting here typing with one arm waiting for vaugarde to be saved, and she's wasting time reading. Boo-hoo she left her anxiety meds in the House where the King is freezing all of us from. Actually, wait! Why didn't she just turn around and take him out? If she's supposed to save vaugarde, assigned to, and she was close to its starting point, why the hell did she walk the other direction and faff about?! Some Savior she is! Most of the country is frozen because of her! And instead of just shutting up and doing her job she went on a funny little pilgrimage. I'm not calling her a Savior anymore. 

🐱 ChangeGirlClaws

do you know about the existence of paragraph breaks. Like at all.

🎀 darts-chatting-blogg

Instead of looking at... all of that, apparently not everybody knows this so look at this.

THE DOORS OF DORMONT GOT LOCKED BY THE KING AND THE SAVIORS HAVE TO FIND FIVE ORBS TO BE ABLE TO EVEN TRY TO SAVE US. And in case you don't know, Vaugarde is huge! The saviors passed by my place a week ago and they only had four Orbs then.

I think Plum and her friends are making good progress, actually! I think she's allowed to relieve stress by reading about guts and gore, actually.

🍙 chateau-riceballs

she's what

-

🐝 finalgirl-standing reblogged from 🐮 The-Cointry-of-Voigarde

🍯 lovelyhoney-truths

Not only does that orb bullshit sound made up and stupid, but apparently Plum also runs a guts and gore blog??? what the fuck is wrong with her. Has she Changed to be so disgusting when she should be Changing herself to be able to save the country?? Do you guys really believe that shit? I haven't heard of a House where Orbs lock the gates, that's clearly her making up excuses for why she can't just go there and beat him. How can her friends stand to be with her when she's this irresponsible?

🎀 darts-chatting-blogg

One. The King warped the place (see image here!) and Dormont was known for experimenting with locks. People just be saying crab, I guess.

Two. Defenders. Get their asses. I'll start.

C

🎗 ribbpeat

R

🍑 yetanotherfinepeach

A

🛴 offowchmy-nkee

B

🐱 ChangeGirlClaws

P

🍙 chateau-riceballs

O

🦴 justanotherchange-blog

W

⚓️ insertcreativebloghere

P

🧦 socks-to-be

E

🐮 The-Cointry-of-Voigarde

N

🐝 finalgirl-standing

I

(this post is unrebloggable.)

-

⚓️ insertcreativebloghere reblogged from 🦴 justanotherchange-blog

🦴 justanotherchange-blog

if I was on a journey to save the country and I forgot my focusing meds at home I would just forget everything. Honestly, Plum's doing much better than I am???

⚓️ insertcreativebloghere

If i had to save the country without my meds i would've thrown myself into the sea

-

🐮 The-Cointry-of-Voigarde

(a picture of the countryside. Half of it is frozen, and the other half isn't)

Well. It was an honor, everyone. I'm glad to have contributed to the crab pow.

-

🏰 cursinguponcastles reblogged 🐧 penguin-do-be-writing

🐧 penguin-do-be-writing

hi everyone, sorry for the silence! My family has been loudly debating what to do about the freezing country, I think i touched something weird and my feet have stopped working for me, so it's hard to get to my writing desk. whoops! it's been a struggle to get words written down. Don't worry, though! I've got a chapter for everyone! This time, things get INTENSE. That internal organs being not internal warning was for a reason!

🏰 cursinguponcastles

CHANGE, THIS WAS SO GOOD!! I'm really sorry you're close to being frozen, but I could see how it affected how you wrote Dembélé struggling to get away! It felt too real, haha!!

I'll miss your fics! I, well, hopefully, will see you in a few months!!

[dsybouquet]

ceo! ellie - 3

what if a broke uni student met the ceo of one of the most impactful companies right now? without her even knowing?

lowercase is intentional

read part 1 aaaand part 2 right here ! xx

"good to see you, ellie."

"hey dina."

ellie lightly said, giving her lawyer a hug. she in fact was relived to see the silghtly older woman sitting in her office chair, smiling ever so lightly.

"what's the news?"

the ceo asked, lighting herself a cigarette before loosening the hair tie that hold her bun together. she looked at the slightly older woman with confused eyes.

"good or bad news first?"

"good i guess?"

she sat down besides dina to have a look at the lawyers screen, like she would understand all the paragraphs and lawyer language she had all over her desktop.

it‘s been a while since ellie and dina had so much to discuss. when ellie became ceo, they would talk every day, also about non business topics. sometimes they both wonder how they grew apart like this.

"good news is, we will not get sued!"

dina exclaimed, clapping her hands slightly. she threw an encouraging smile at ellie.

"the client is mad, however.. they have a different way for you to make up for it. so the bad news is-"

"let me guess, our yearly charity event should be in honor to them instead of joel?“

the blackhaired woman raised an eyebrow.

"i mean, yeah kinda. they want to be more represented.“

ellie got up from her seat and walked around the office. the smoke of her cigarette hugging her face every time she blew it out.

„did i ever mention how i despise abby sometimes?“

„like every other day.“

dina just laughed it off, she knew how much of an temper ellie could have - and over the years it got just worse.

„no like, seriously. ever since joel died in that car crash i have to deal with her bullshit and i can‘t do anything because they are the biggest client we have!“

and here it goes. ellie threw her cigarette in the ashtray before slumping on her office chair again.

joels death resulted in her taking his place - being the ceo of miller enterprises. and as much as she loved the money and the big cars and the responsibility, she also hated it. none of this is her‘s, it‘s joels. he did all the work, she just had to be next in line.

he had adopted her years after his daughter has passed away due to an medical condition. to say the least, ellie was a rough child and teen. she was loud, sarcastic and had her own will. of course she would listen to joel, after all he wad the only parental figure she had ever have.

„it‘s almost five years now.“

she mumbled, looking at her desk.

ellie hated christmas season and winter. she hated the snow and the beautiful lights. she hated it because it reminded her of him. of the call from dina, the hours in the hospital, the beeping sound of the machine that so desperately tried to keep him alive.

„i know.“

dina added, leaning against ellie’s table. she gave her a encouraging smile.

„how about we start the planning tomorrow? go home and have a good nights rest.“

and so ellie left the office with a small goodbye to dina and went back to her car. she sat down in the drivers seat. as much she loved her car, she didn’t want to drive.

tears slowly build up in her eyes, but she quickly swallowed it when she saw an unfamiliar book on the passenger seat. a book about.. the human psyche ?

you must have forgotten it when ellie dropped you off at home.

„damn it.“

she said under her breath and whipped out her phone, calling your number immediately. and to her surprise you picked up very fast.

„hey ellie! are you okay ?“

your voice was so gentle, ellie was about to die from it’s sweetness.

„hey dear. yeah don’t worry. uh- you forgot your book in my car. need me to drop it off ?“

there was some noise on the background, sounding like you fumbling around in your bag to find it.

„that would be great, ellie. i‘ll make up for it.“

she smiled, starting her engine and looking up your adress from her recent routes.

„i will be there in 20! see ya, ______!“

and off she went, excitement now building up.

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

„hey, thank you so much.“

you smiled, waiting on your doorstep, still in the same hoodie, but with pyjamas pants below now.

„no worries.”

“are you free? i can cook you some dinner. you know, to make up for you having to drive here again?“

now ellie smiled but shook her head.

„no, it‘s fine. don‘t worry.“

„ellie, c‘mon. let me do something for you as well!“

and how could she say no to some with a pretty face like yours?

so she agreed, and you lead her up the stairs to your apartment. it was small but lovely and well decorated. scented candles burned in the hallway and the living room was dimly lit with a lap and the led strips behind your running tv.

„it‘s not much but it‘s affordable - for an uni student at least.“

you smiled before going to your kitchen counted which was connected to your living room.

„what do you mean? it‘s pretty!“

ellie eyes the nerdy figurines on your shelves and the pictures on your walls while you grabbed two wine glasses from your shelf.

„are you fine with a cheap rose?“

you asked her as you opened your fridge. ellie looked at you and just felt all the weight of her work falling off her shoulders. she felt.. normal. like you. oh, how she wished to be an uni student, living her best life in an small apartment instead of leading people and having responsibilities beyond imagination.

of course, she did not have to worry about bills or anything. but money and power doesn’t buy happiness. this does.

„absolutely!“

she sat down on one of your kitchen chairs and watched you pour in the wine with a smile.

„thank you dear.“

she said so softly your knees got weak. and you smiled, letting your glass softly hit hers before taking a sip, not breaking eye contact.

„so, i can offer you: noodles with green pesto, noodles with red pesto, or i can try my luck with a mushroom risotto. additionally, i can also make a side salad.“

you smiled, leaning against the kitchen counter. ellie hadn’t felt this carelessness and even happiness in a while. after all, she never had this.

„risotto sounds amazing.“

she smiled, watching you sigh in despair.

„of course you choose the hardest dish. will not guarantee that it will be good!“

you reached for a pan and put out all ingredients; mushrooms that would have to leave your fridge soon anyways, risotto rice, onion and garlic. the simplicity as so beautiful to ellie.

„let me help.“

and so she cut the mushrooms and washed the rice while you took care of the onions and garlic. the two of you laughed and made fun of each other’s cutting skills while emptying your wine glasses and watching the risotto take form.

„that‘d actually pretty bomb!“

you exclaimed while taking the first bite, already half way down on the second wine glass.

„ellie, we are a great team in the kitchen!“

ellie smiled, agreeing with you.

„like hell, we are!“

you spend your dinner laughing and talking about all sorts of things. friends, memories, drunk accidents that were embarrassing. it felt so light to finally not have business talks with people she couldn’t care less about.

after washing the dishes, and pouring a third glass of wine, you took the conversation to your small but comfortable couch.

and it got late, waaaay too late. and the snow kept falling, causing the streets to be white.

„you shouldn’t be driving home tonight.“

you said, looking at the streets while ellie smoked a cigarette on your balcony.

„nah, i will be fine. i don’t want to take up your space.“

„no ellie, i mean it. we drank, it‘s snowy. it would be better for you to sleep here.“

after a while of convincing, she finally agreed, snapping her cigarette off your balcony.

„and you get to spend more time with me. feel honoured!“

you joked, not knowing that it was exactly what she wanted. to spend more time with you, in this carefree environment. where she can be herself, where she can be just ellie and doesn‘t have to be ellie williams - ceo of miller enterprises.

after finishing the last glass of wine, you decided to call it a night. you gave ellie a hoodie from your closet and a pair of pyjama pants before brushing your teeth in the bathroom and doing your daily skincare. when you returned, you laughed a little. she looked so cute in your huge uni hoodie and the fluffy pj pants.

„why are you laughing?!“

„im just used to seeing you in business clothing. but this is adorable!“

she rolled her eyes and took the spare toothbrush you held in her direction.

„fuck off !“

one more laughter left your throat before you prepared the bed for two. luckily it was big enough. although your couch was comfortable, it was small and most likely would break either your or ellies back when sleeping a night on it.

so you shared a bed. after all, thats nothing to worry about, right?

both of you kind of awkward tugged in before facing each other. the wine did make all of this less awkward. once again you noticed how pretty ellie was. the freckles and little eyebrow scar.. her long lashes that made her green eyes even prettier, her auburn hair that hugger her face perfectly.. she was perfect.

and she thought the same about you. her hand reached out to your face and tugged a piece of your hair behind your ear. oh how she wanted to kiss you - yet she didn’t, not knowing you wanted it too.

“good night, ellie.”

“night, ______.”

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

THERE WE GOOOOO. different from what i wanted, but i hope you enjoy ✧*:.｡.

part 4 is here ! ! bye bye xx

taglist: @harrysslutsstuff @vwonnie @mikaaj @elliewilliamsgf69 @weridcattty @feelsoseencantdream @honeymoonbbie @katymae12344 @aouiaa @bbglmfao

[xetlynn]

an artists muse- a viktor fanfic.

six.

[five] [six] [seven]

empty tomorrow of its sorrows.

Plopping down in a swivel chair after getting ready for the day you scroll on Instagram. Humming a quiet tune as you check your own following on your art account. It has been a while since you stalked yourself, you wanted to see if there were any new accounts that had followed you since the last time you scanned through it. 

The first person on the top of that little list wasn’t who you were expecting. Smiling you clicked on his account. Viktor. 

You go through his stuff like you hadn’t done it a million times before after meeting him. You were actually about to go meet him at the cafe.

Seeing him on Saturday shocked you, you didn’t think it was his scene. It really wasn’t but his friends kept him company. You would’ve too if you weren’t running around, helping your friends and making sure they weren’t getting too drunk. You tried to speak with Viktor whenever you had the chance though. 

Now going through his following you see a familiar name that makes your heart drop to your stomach. A mutual with the art account, m.herald2077. Viktor knows him?

M.herald2077 didn’t block you on your art account? Wait. 

That’s right, he got logged out of this account. You were on the phone with him when it happened. He couldn’t remember the password and when he blocked you on everything you couldn’t get yourself to unfollow this stupid account that wasn’t being controlled by anyone anymore. 

“Is he Ma?” You whispered, standing up from your spot and beginning to panic. They have similar accents. They could be related?

No, his highlight is labeled Ma. That’s what you called him. They have to be the same person. A lump builds in your throat. You couldn’t deny it even if you wanted to. They were the same person. 

Tears stream down your cheeks as your chest heaves. You grip at the skin, practically clawing at it. The memories flooding in your head. 

“Why would you say that?” His voice breaks and you wrack out a sob. “Ma, I swear! It wasn’t me, I promise! My friend- ugh she took my phone while I was in the bathroom, I’m just now seeing these messages!” You cry out, pleading with your friend to trust you. “How would she know such… private details I told you?” He asks, holding back his own tears, rereading the words on his screen that had come from your account. 

“I had vented to her, I was upset for you and I just. I thought I could trust her! It’s so not right what I did. I’m sorry! But I swear, I would never think those things!” You stammer, the other line goes quiet. “I don't think I can’t trust you anymore… I’m sorry but wow. I- I gotta go. Live a nice life.” And before you could say anything the phone hung up. 

Leaving you to wail, crying into a pillow as you had just lost one of the closest friends you’ve ever had. 

“Sh-shit.” You squeeze your eyes shut, the liquid from your eyes dripping right down the flesh of your face. You open your phone back up, going to the old account. You knew he’d never see it. You typed out a long, long paragraph. Apologizing, explaining what you never got to over that phone call. Rubbing your lips together, the screen gets blurry at moments when your tears built up, forcing you to blink them away.  

You read it over numerous times before your shaky finger presses send. You close out of it. Staring at the time. 

Now you have to go see Viktor after this discovery. Your heart tightening. You felt like throwing up. How could you look him in the face and not tell him you hurt him the way you did years ago. 

You didn’t know what to do. You could cancel on him. Avoid the cafe for the rest of your life. Switch your chem class. Never see him, protect him from you. He’d never know. 

No. You couldn’t do that. He doesn’t deserve you to treat him horribly twice in his life. Maybe this can be a redo. He’ll never know it was you. And after this semester if you don’t end up having classes with one another again you can go your separate ways and never speak.

Not hurting either person. 

Hopefully.

You grab your backpack, slipping it over your shoulders. You wiped the wetness off of your face. Sniffling to try and hide the evidence of crying.

Viktor takes a sip of his hot, roasted black coffee. Tapping the table as he focused his attention on his laptop screen. Looking over the rules of the Chemistry project he and [Name] had to do together. Figuring out a set plan for the two.

Beside his device was an iced coffee, the cup covered in condensation. With that there’s a cherry danish sitting there. He had also grabbed multiple creamers and sugars that you could put in the cup yourself since he had seen you do it a few times. 

Every time the little bell rings from the front of the cafe his eyes would flicker over. Hoping that it was you even though you said you weren’t going to be there until 7:15. The same time every day. He checked the time, it was 7:14. 

And there you are right as it hits 15. You were rushing inside, wearing a baseball cap that covered your eyes. 

You make a b-line straight for Viktor’s normal spot, climbing into the booth. “Goodmorning!” You beamed, averting eye contact as you pulled out a notebook.

“Goodmorning,” One brow is raised as he observes you, you wouldn’t lift your head up as you immediately start to jot things down on the paper. “You seem… in a rush?” He inquires, sliding the iced coffee over along with the cherry danish. “Weren’t even going to order anything today?” Your movements freeze in place as your orbs land on them. 

You weren’t going to get yourself anything. On your way over you kept telling yourself you didn’t deserve to treat yourself like you normally do. You ogle at the nourishment in front of you. Tears build at the sight. Viktor watches how your face seems solemn. Your mouth stuck shut but your chin was quivering. A single tear falling down your left cheek. 

You were quick to wipe it away. Replacing your sad expression with a forced happy one. “Thank you so much!” You give him a close-eyed smile. “I’ll have to pay you back when I can!” You let out a raspy laugh, taking a bite of the cherry goodness. Since you lifted your head, he could see how puffy your eyes were. They were also red and a bit irritated signifying that you had been crying recently. 

“Why would you pay me back?” He cocks his head to the side, his eyebrows knitted together. He was worried to say the least. “I um,” you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Because you didn’t have to do this! I’d feel bad not paying you for this!” You tell him, avoiding his gaze once again. 

“[Name], it’s what friends do. I don’t want your money. Plus you got me that coconut puff the other day. Should I pay you back for that?” His hand goes over to yours that was laid on the table. You shoot your head up. “No! I wouldn’t take your money even if you forced it into my hand!” You tell him with an angry expression and he chuckles. 

“Exactly. See. You’re not giving me anything for this either.” He pats the top of your hand before going back to his laptop. You stare at him for a few moments. Thinking about how you didn’t deserve this. 

You didn’t deserve an ounce of kindness from Viktor. 

You picked up the danish, slowly eating it. It would be rude if you wasted it. 

You notice the sugar packets and the little creamers alongside the iced coffee. You smile down at it. How’d he know? You open the lid of the drink, ripping open the first packet. Viktor peeked over to you. He pondered on what was wrong. Wondering if he should ask or not. But at the same time you clearly did not want to talk about it. You seemed like the type that if you wanted to you would’ve already done it. 

“So, you know our project? For Chem?” He speaks up, mentally cursing at himself because that’s what he chose to say? “Oh, yeah! What about it?” You close the lid of your coffee, taking a drink of it. 

“Well, I was thinking we should get that started. Maybe this weekend?” He offers, your gaze hardens a little bit before you smile.

Viktor takes note of every movement you make. How your demeanor is frequently changing. Like your mind is fighting with itself. “Sounds good! If we go to my place I’ll tell my roommate to not bother us for a few hours!” You snicker, knowing you literally will shut Powder out and tell her to go somewhere with herself for the day. 

“We could go to mine, I don’t have a roommate.” He shrugs his shoulders, wanting to make it simple for the both of you. “Oh that’s even better!” You gleam and he smiles. “Let’s do it on Saturday then, maybe around 1?” 

“Perfect.” You nod your head. 

You get a text from Viktor as you’re heading off campus, it was 2 pm and you had just finished your last class of the day. You look at your screen for a moment before opening the message. 

—------------------------------------------------

vik.tor_e- meet me outside science building in ten minutes?

love.[name]3- ok, im like two minutes from it 

vik.tor_e- i’ll be here 

love.[name]3- why’d you say in ten minutes then!? Lol

vik.tor_e- wanted to give you time >:(

love.[name]3- so silly :P

—-------------------------------------------------

You laugh at the boy, shaking your head as you redirect yourself to start heading to the science building. Picking up your pace now that you know he’s already there. You wondered what he could want to talk about.

The anxiety in the back of your mind was telling you that he had found out. That he wanted to go to your professor and change partners. 

You push the thoughts away once your eyes land on him, he was sitting on the bench right outside the doors. He notices you at the same time, both of you giving each other little waves. 

He stands himself up and you go over to him with a slight nervous expression. “What’s up?” You smile. “I have a list of things to get for the project. I was working on it this morning.” He hands you a paper with a printed list. You stare down at it. Thinking about where to get the stuff.

 “Okay! I’ll get it all before Saturday then.” You sternly say with a positive attitude. “Well, half of it, I’m getting. I put your name by the things you need to get.” He leans in your side, showing you on the paper what he’s talking about.

You take in his scent, half paying attention to him. Feeling his warmth on your arm. You felt like a creep as you snapped out of it when he backed away. What the heck was that?

He goes to say something but a person nudges into you, stopping the both of you from talking to one another. “Heyy, [Name]. Who’s this!?”

Maddie. 

Your jaw tightens, you look down to her. “This is my friend.” You respond, not telling her his name. She squints her eyes over to the boy as he awkwardly stands there. “You look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?” She asks him, your breathing hitches. How would Maddie know Viktor? 

“Uh, I don’t think so.” He disagrees and she hums. “I know you, I swear.” She argues. She stares for a moment before shrugging her shoulders. “Oh well, I’ll figure it out.” She giggles. “I just wanted to say hi to [Name]. Bye now!” She gives you a quick, one-sided hug before scurrying off. 

Your face deadpans as you watch her go away. You then look back to Viktor. “Sorry about that.” You force out a dry laugh, clearly not that amused. He can tell you had a distaste for the girl but doesn’t question it. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it. Catch you tomorrow at the cafe?” He asks. 

“Of course!” You grin, the two of you now going separate ways. 

Once you get to your dorm you sit on your bed, relaxing into it before you get this weird sudden urge to want to paint. Randomly motivated to do this image you have in your head.

You dig underneath your loft bed, pulling out a large canvas along with a bunch of brushes and paint. 

taglist: if you want to be added lmk! @policedeer @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @confusedgemposts @ang3lz-lov3 @almostdrowningdown @corpsepies @obittwo @bakusquadobsessed @ren-ni

[ot3]

Hey! The link to your FAQ wasn't working for me so I don't know if this question has been asked before. I really appreciate your perspectives on AI art. Do you happen to have any resources that you read/listened to on intellectual property rights and the issues with it? I just don't really know where to start with it.

[heres where i cut out a big paragraph of me, once again, bitching about how blog pages don't work on the tumblr app and i think that's fucking stupid]

anyway i dont have any generalized sources on the subject but the tl;dr of it is: intellectual property rights exclusively benefit people who have the resources to pursue sustained litigation. 99% of the time, what IP law is being used for is to reinforce corporate ownership of work that was done by their employees.

the whole disco elysium debacle is a great case study.

The shareholders of ZA/UM accused the trio of, among other things, intending to steal intellectual property (IP) from the company — a curious accusation, considering that the world of the game is based off of a novel written by Kurvitz himself. The case of Disco Elysium illustrates the shortcomings of IP rights as protection for artists. Consequently, it contains a lot of lessons for the labor movement when it comes to the arts, and serves as a reminder that creative workers are, at the end of the day, workers. But this is not just an academic exercise. It’s a human story about the intimate consequences of capitalist exploitation. “I got my soul ripped out of me,” Kurvitz told me over Zoom in April of 2023. “I got my skull cracked open and my brain lifted out of it by a fifty-five-year-old financial criminal.”

another example: alex norris of webcomic name, which you will probably recognize when you see it, has been raising hundreds of thousands of dollars over the past several years to try and keep up with the protracted legal battle over maintaining ownership of his own work.

I have been fighting this case since 2019. It arose out of an agreement to make a boardgame based on my webcomic in 2017 but the publishing company has used this as an opportunity to take all of my intellectual property, and has even claimed ownership of Webcomic Name as a whole. I can't go into more detail here, but the details of the case are publicly available to read online.

Then, in a 2024 update:

I have essentially won the main case based on the decisions made last summer. The Judge has clearly stated that I own my comics, and that the other party has infringed on my copyright. It is not over yet, as there are still a few things that need to happen. Hopefully things will all be wrapped up this year. After 6 years of legal battling, I can’t wait to be free of all of this. Hopefully, this second case will backfire, and they will be sanctioned for filing it. But to get to that point requires a frustratingly large amount of work, time and money.

An interesting thing about both of these two specific instances is that they involve creators who had entire bodies of work produced around the specific IPs that were stolen from them before they even began partnering with corporate entities to produce works. which is insane! you can spend years writing novels, drawing comics, and if a company comes in with enough lawyers they can own those ideas.

this is pretty distinctly different to me than instances of work you do while being employed by a corporate entity being owned by that corporate entity, because at least you know what you're getting into there to some degree, but i still think that's bad too. consider stuff like the owl house and gravity falls, two disney shows made by people who very very clearly did not like working for disney. disney owns their ideas, their characters, their worlds, because that's the price you pay for having an animated show produced.

essentially it's very very clear upon even the slightest examination that intellectual property in no way exists to codify who the creator responsible for specific creative concepts or works is. it exists to turn nebulous things like 'ideas' into market commodities, and to funnel the profits made by the labor of individual artists and writers into corporate bank accounts.

the only person who has ever really benefited from IP law as an individual trying to lay claim to their own work is ken penders, who notoriously won his suit to have ownership of characters and storylines he created. heartbreaking: Worst Person You Know Gets An Unequivocally Deserved Legal W.

The comics continued under Flynn’s direction as if nothing happened, but things started looking grim in late 2012, when Archie suddenly fired its entire legal team. The company had been unable to produce Penders’ work-for-hire contract, which would have given control of his creations to Sega. Penders claimed the contract had never existed. A heavily circulated Tumblr post outlining the case (which has been corroborated as a reliable source by Penders) explains that while Archie did provide a photocopy of a contract allegedly signed by Penders in 1996, Penders claimed that the document was a forgery. That it was neither an original copy nor a contract from the beginning of the writer’s tenure at Archie meant that its validity was questionable. Making things worse, Archie couldn’t produce an original copy of any previous contributor’s contract, meaning that any writer or artist who had worked on the Archie Sonic line could potentially follow in Penders’s footsteps and reclaim their work. “So are you saying prior counsel blew it?” the presiding judge asked Archie counsel Joshua Paul in a May 2013 court session. His reply was unequivocal: “Absolutely, your Honor.”

So yeah. Owning the work you do as an artist is only something that happens when the people trying to profit off of it show unprecedented and staggering level of incompetence in their legal teams.

Then, alongside not owning the concepts and ideas you produce while working with corporate entities, there's the issue of NDA regarding specific pieces you've produced. This causes a LOT of trouble for freelance illustrators/character designers/concept artists, etc. Looking for work is very hard when the past three years of pieces you've drawn can't be added to your portfolio. Some people have password protected pages on their portfolios that they use for NDA work, but I believe the right to do this varies depending on your contract. I'm not 100% sure. In cases where the project you worked on eventually comes out, that's one thing, but there will be instances where the entire project gets canned after all the work is done, but is still under NDA so essentially all of your work has been taken from you, crumpled up into a ball by a studio executive, thrown in the trash can, and legally you are not allowed to go pick it out of the bin and try and flatten it out again.

This has all been pretty art-focused because that's the kind of circles I run in and where a lot of my interests lie but the truth is none of this is even remotely close to as evil IP law gets. I've saved the most egregious for last: The Lakota Language Consortium

The Lakota Language Consortium had promised to preserve the tribe’s native language and had spent years gathering recordings of elders, including Taken Alive’s grandmother, to create a new, standardized Lakota dictionary and textbooks.  But when Taken Alive, 35, asked for copies, he was shocked to learn that the consortium, run by a white man, had copyrighted the language materials, which were based on generations of Lakota tradition. The traditional knowledge gathered from the tribe was now being sold back to it in the form of textbooks.

When you're in defense of IP law, this is what you're siding with. This is the rational endpoint of IP and it is neither a fluke nor an example of the concept being twisted against its original design. Art, culture, language, it belongs to whoever is most capable of turning it into a product. The economic incentives of producing and distributing arts and culture demand this is how things be.

Meya says his work is a vital tool in preserving the Lakota language, which did not previously have a standardized written form. He estimated that there are fewer than 1,500 fluent Lakota speakers left and that over the last decade and a half, the organization has helped add 50 to 100 more. “Just because money is involved in it does not inherently make it an evil thing,” Meya said in a recent interview with NBC News. Most of the products his organizations make are free, he said, but the cost of printing textbooks has to come from somewhere. “That tends to be sometimes part of the rhetoric, ‘Oh, there’s money involved. It must be, you know, part of the overall colonization effort.’ Well, you know, that’s just not realistic.”

Artists looking to force their way into the class of people who gets protected by these laws are not looking out for their community. They are not protecting anything but their own perceived financial interests. Intellectual property will never, ever benefit the most marginalized members of creative communities and anyone who tries to convince you otherwise is huffing some serious copium.

Frankly, I don't believe anyone can or should 'own' things like Ideas or Specific Aesthetic Flairs. But even if you do believe in that, IP law isn't the framework for handling it.

[dwindlinghaze]

Hello! Soo I was wondering if I could request a RemusxReader oneshot/blurb with this scenario. Hear me out:

Reader openly talking to the girls about her crush on Remus she as had for years and just being so casual talking about how much she likes him and thinks he's amazing and hot, and how much she loves him (practically me simping for Rem) and she isn't embarrassed cuz she's known Lily and Marlene for years and they're used to talk like that and tease each other kindly (they usually do it to Lily). But they don't know that Remus and the boys are "accidentally" listening to their conversation.

Lmk what you think! Thankyou ly, byebye <3

moon river

(remus lupin x reader)

contents : fluff, the marauders being nosy af and eavesdropping, bad writing and not proofread :(

a/n : hello anon!!! ty so so much for the request and im so so sorry for taking so long in writing it. but hey i am here and im at your service ;) i rly hope u like this and it fulfilled what you asked for ☁️☁️

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"[y/n] are you free tonight? or does loverboy has to take you away before midnight?" marlene said, linking your arms together as you two walked inside the common room.

"yes... why?"

"charms."

"charms?"

"assignment."

"oh-"

"yes."

"charms assignment that you need me to help you with?"

"obviously,"

"ah fine," you eyes slowly averted to the smile of none other that remus lupin. your mind goes fuzzy all of a sudden. he was joking and laughing with james in front of the fireplace. "he looks so happy today," you whispered to yourself, smiling.

"aww, you care about his happiness! just make out already," marlene said, wiggling her thick brows.

"that's one step beyond. not ethical," you shook your head in a mocking manner. "where's lily by the way? is she up here already?"

marlene shrugged as she opened the door to the dormitory, letting the warm air hit both of their faces.

later that night, you were helping marlene out on the charms essay and let's just say... it wasn't going as planned.

"marl, it's not how it is. you have to read the whole thing first then make your own summary about it so professor flitwick won't accuse you of plagiarism."

"but there's too many! why isn't there a charms to shorten paragraphs," she whined like a child on the sidewalk when their moms didn't get ice cream.

"liliana, help me over here. marl doesn't want to read,"

"i doing my eye mask, can't stand up," she reasoned stupidly.

"eye masks stick to your under eyes. yes you can stand up without them falling off. i wish remus was here, he can probably summarise four pages in just two minutes, he's incredibly smart," you closed your little tired eyes.

"if remus was here, he wont be teaching me anything, he would be too busy with you," marlene scoffed, although she is teasing.

"that's right," lily agreed. "remember this morning when [y/n] dropped mashed potatoes on his head? he didn't even blame her! he was blushing."

"also in dada, didn't you see remus was basically mumbling a mantra to be partnered up with [y/n], that's so sweet," marlene continued in a teasing voice, her charms assignment completely tossed of to the side.

you think to yourself, a conversation about remus late at night is way more interesting than charms. so you didn't budge. "aw yea he did, i saw," you cheeks turned crimson as you smile.

"isn't he just so... beautiful? i never look at anyone- except for my barbie dolls when i was five- this way. he is just right in every way."

"mhmmm keep going my love," marlene replied, after noticing a slight crack in the door with the marauders behind it. they were appalled when marlene saw them but marlene stays quiet, sending a wink their way.

at first, they were up here because james wanted to return lily's hair clip in which the boy slyly stole during class for this moment. but the others insisted to go up to see her reaction for some reason.

remus wouldn't complain though. he got to hear what the girl he loves for so much has to say bout him when he's not around.

your back was facing the door with your legs crossed over your chest and you hugging them. "his face may be pretty, but i think his heart is way prettier. for god's sake he holds my hand when i was anxious for that history presentation! he knows my needs so well."

"yes, that's so kind of him," lily urged for you to continue so she can tease you about it the next morning in front of remus lupin.

"and the best part is, remus respects women! he treats me like how i treat the girls and women around me. that's the hottest thing a guy could ever do," you dazed out, burying your face in between your kneecaps.

"ugh we love a respectful king, don't we girls!" marlene said purposely loud so remus can hear the conversation wide and clear from the door. his eyes were basically making heart eyes at the back of your head, his smile is like he had just won a contest and to hide that would be so dishonest.

"i told you to get her on a date sooner, she is the one!" sirius nudged remus rather harshly, but he was too focused on you.

"but what i don't like about him is the fact that he thinks he's not worthy of anything. he is. he deserves the biggest apology and happiness there ever was. he is like a moon river. i would roll my ship at night just to see the sparkles that he got. my huckleberry friend."

"isn't that enough to confirm that [y/n] loves you back, remus?" marlene shouted, her vision straight to the door.

your eyes widened in panic as your blood rushed into your cheeks. was remus hearing all of this? oh no freaking way- he can't be!

the door swung open, revealing the marauders who were standing with their jaws on the floor.

"i'm going out," lily spoke up, slipping out the door with james running after her like a lost puppy.

"you better do something," marlene winked at remus as she pushed him inside the room. remus nodded numbly, processing on what just happened. marlene was already dragging sirius down to give their friends privacy.

"hey, can i come in?"

"gosh i'm so sorry you heard all of that! you don't understand how embarrassing it is for me right now. i wish to disappear!" you scrunched your face, mortified by what his reactions may be.

"listen, uh, what you said were- it really makes me happy that you think of me that way because... so do i! i've been scared to say anything because i just- wasn't sure if you like me that way or not..."

"well, you heard it... what am i going to do now," you whispered the last part under your breath.

lucky for remus, he's got super hearing powers due to his lycanthropy so he heard that as clear as the sky is blue. "we can do what girlfriend and boyfriend do," remus answered shyly, playing with the end of your blanket that dropped from your bed.

"excuse me ma'am, you haven't asked me for dinner yet and now we're girlfriend and boyfriend?" you said in a joking manner to ease the tension out.

"okay let's do baby steps. come here, m'love, want to hold my girl," he opened his arms with his eyes closed. does he even know how cute he is right now?

[frangipani-wanderlust]

How To Call 911

So most of my followers know now that I started working last May as a 911 dispatcher. Super proud of myself. And now that I am starting (very much still starting) to settle in a bit, I want to offer some tips on how to call 911. So, hold on to your hats.

(no-color version if the yellow text isn't rendering on your screen correctly)

When in doubt, call 911. Don't take this as me encouraging you to jump at shadows. Your neighbors' loud party is not an emergency, google the local non-emergency line and call that. Neither is the dry cleaning not giving you your clothes (I actually got this call on our 911 line). Nor is the fact that you saw a fox inside city limits (also something a real human called 911 about). But if you see a situation unfolding and you think "this seems dangerous, maybe this is 911-worthy" then it's 911-worthy. Don't hesitate. Call.

If you call 911 and you are freaking out, that's okay. If you're in a crisis, you may not remember a single tip I'm about to give you. We are trained for that, we can handle it, just do the best you can. It's not the end of the world to have a hysterical or frightened caller, and these are tips, not rules.

Location, location, location. We can't send you help if we have nowhere to send it to. Ideally, know the address. Failing that, know the name of a business or a church or an intersection. It is not cheating if you read this off a sign. There isn't a set of invisible rules that says you have to have your exact GPS coordinates memorized. Be prepared to describe the location somehow. That way, if our connection drops and that's all you can tell me, I can still send some police out to come find out what's going on and they can ask for medics or firefighters or whatever if needed. But we absolutely must know where to send assistance, it is the first thing we're going to ask.

Location again, but with a twist. The first thing our office says for emergencies is, "911, what is the address of the emergency?" If a building is on fire, tell us where the fire is. If your neighbors are being robbed at gunpoint across the street, give us their address. If you witnessed a car accident, tell us where the accident happened. The location of the emergency isn't necessarily the location where you are. Don't send police and fire to your office building if the wreck is on the freeway.

Answer the questions that you are asked. If the calltaker asks "Is the patient breathing?" don't start in about the seizure they just had (if they aren't breathing, the seizure they just had is not the biggest problem). If the calltaker asks, "Which way did the man you saw go when they ran?" don't tell them about how they broke down your door (if they are running away, knowing they broke your door down does not help the police know which direction to start looking). The particular question you are asked is being asked for a reason, and that reason is not frivolous but in an emergency, we aren't going to stop and explain everything.

Do not launch into a speech. If you're asked a yes/no question, yes or no is all the answer you should give. Your impulse will be to explain the yes or the no because more information is better than not enough, but overexplaining is its own problem. Now, we are hired for good typist skills, and are encouraged to get better and faster, but infodumping means things can get missed. The calltaker is going to have some information they're going to ask for by protocol and probably the option to drill down on some of it if clarification is needed. If you spend five paragraphs explaining your last answer, it delays getting other pertinent information.

Do not launch into a speech, part the second. You don't call 911 for things that happened last week, or even yesterday. Tell me the emergency that is happening right now. Ideally in one sentence. If someone is having a medical issue, and you call 911 about it, when the calltaker asks exactly what happened, do not tell them about how the patient had a surgery 5-and-a-half weeks ago. You called 911. What is the emergency that is happening right now. Don't be telling me about their surgery when the problem you called about is a broken leg. Yes, the surgery may have led to generalized loss of balance that has yet to return which caused the patient to fall which caused them to break their leg. Understood. But you didn't call because of all of that. You called because of the broken leg. Apply this principle to all emergencies.

Don't launch into a speech, part the third. When asked a specific and direct question, do not give an explanation instead of an answer. If the calltaker asks you "Is the weird person on the side of the road actually in the lanes of traffic?" do not explain to them how it's a very narrow roadway (see parenthesis for the story here). Aside from the fact that we're not asking these questions to be funny (see part the second), there's also the fact that now you are coming over as suspicious as hell. If I asked "how did that person on Facebook know what this supposedly missing kid is wearing and where he's going to be at 3:00 today?" and you say "well Facebook is a good way to spread information" I am now extremely suspicious of you.

(Also an actual call I have taken. The man was a totally ordinary guy out for a walk to the store, but this blue collar man walked through a Rich Person Neighborhood™ and according to Lady Catherine De Bourgh on the phone with me, that merited a call to the police. When I asked her if he was actually in the lanes of traffic [traffic hazard call type] versus not [suspicious person call type, on a technicality but technically...], she tried explaining three times that the road was narrow before she finally got the message that I was not going to stop asking until she told me the actual answer and answered "Well, I suppose so, yes." At this point, because she'd been so reluctant to answer me, I no longer believed the man actually was in the lanes of traffic and to this day believe that she lied to try and manipulate the police into a stronger-level response than was actually warranted. Because determining whether she was lying for sure is beyond the scope of my job, I put down what she said, but I didn't believe then and still don't believe now, that she told the truth. The totally ordinary and probably very nice guy was not arrested or hassled at all and was instead given a courtesy ride to the store.)

Be prepared to describe relevant people, maybe including yourself, and that includes race. If you have an asthma attack at a football game, the medics need to know how to find you in a crowd. If you are a black woman, that's gonna rule out everyone who isn't that. If you are a black woman wearing a yellow shirt, blue jeans, and a blue bandana over your hair, that excludes nearly everybody and when the medics arrive, they'll know exactly who to look for. Most of the time, someone's race isn't relevant information. When describing someone to emergency services, it absolutely is and it is not racist to accurately describe the relevant person or people.

There are more tips in the world, and I may come back to this post and add them as they occur to me. In the meantime, please enjoy this short treatise on how to call 911.

[valkyrie1435atla]

@hannahhook7744 this was going to be another reply but it started getting too long, so here’s a bit of an explanation on Zuko’s situation.

I can’t always know if what I’m trying to portray in my comic gets across how I want it to, that’s a drawback of the comic format, I’m generally not able to include long, detailed paragraphs unless it’s in a format that makes sense in the context of the comic. (Yishengs Logbook for example.)

-SPOILERS(?) FOR PARTS 14, 17. OR NOT REALLY SPOILERS, JUST PLAIN EXPLANATIONS OF WHAT HAPPENED TO CLEAR ANY CONFUSION-

in Mortem Obire, we see a play-by-play of Zuko’s death and his time traveling from his own perspective, in his head. ‘Mortem Obire’ means ‘to face death,’ this is Zuko processing what happened to him. Azula’s lightning struck him, pain, blinding pain, and then it all stopped, and he was back on his ship. He is still reeling, though, every sensation is suddenly opposite, “it was loud, and it was burning-“ in a millisecond his whole world flipped upside down. “And suddenly it was quiet, and I was cold” Zuko is so disoriented from the switch he immediately collapses, slams head-first on the hard ship deck, and is sent back to the future. “And it was loud again, and I was burning again” He becomes stuck in this sort of in-between state, like a light switch you’re trying to balance in the middle, flickering on and off. “Someone called my name” Katara calls his name, Iroh calls his name. “I saw a pillar of light in the sky-I saw a comets trail in the sky” he sees both. “You ran to me” Katara ran to him, Iroh ran to him.

Iroh was holding him; he laid alone, bleeding out.

Iroh pulled him away, Zuko began to lose consciousness; he burned while watching Azula kill Katara.

He laid there in his dead, rotting body; he laid in a body that wasn’t his.

It all happens in Zukos head, though. In the present moment Iroh just asked him, “and then?” Zuko replies, “and then…” (Part 13) then falls silent for about 30 seconds. Iroh just stares at him, waiting for an answer. The flashback plays in Zukos mind, he starts to tremble and hyperventilate, Iroh calls out his name but Zuko cannot hear him. “Prince Zuko, can you hear me?!” The flashback ends and Zuko is pulled back to the present. etc. etc.

A Thankless Job is YiShengs (and partially Iroh’s) perspective of Zuko’s death and time traveling. (Obviously they don’t know that he died, they don’t know that he time traveled.) season one Zuko collapsed suddenly and for literally no reason at all, (they didn’t see the beam of light, there was no beam of light.) YiSheng and Iroh took him to his room, and he started seizing (“A seizure is abnormal electrical activity in [the] brain” (the Cleveland Clinic)). He was sort of awake for a few seconds at a time, YiSheng medicated him in a moment he could actually swallow, and then Zuko passed out completely. Iroh stayed by his side. It is important to note that there was no injury at first, and Zuko woke up a few hours later. Parts three, four, and five happen, Zuko has a brief conversation with Iroh, he still isn’t completely aware of the time travel, everything is very hazy. Iroh leaves, and the haze begins to clear. The lightning creeps back in, the scar starts to reappear on his chest and it grows and it burns and Zuko is burning burning fire fire I am melting from the inside I am dying. etc. etc.

In the revised version I am currently working on, remaking the first chunk of the story so far, these details (and many more) will all be displayed much more clearly. We will see Iroh’s complete perspective of the collapse first, followed by Zuko’s and Yisheng’s as has already been written. A short interlude of Jee’s perspective next?

Basically, Zukos injury carried over because he didn’t stay in the past when he first got blasted there. Everyone else in the gaang flipped once and that was that, the injuries that killed them stayed with the past timeline. Zuko’s did not. Just his luck, really.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Since it's taking me a million years to finish the batch of WIPs that I have right now, I went ahead and put previews of five of them over on Kofi! If you want to read the full previews, you can check it out there at the Companion or Co-Pilot tiers. Those previews are closer to 2-3k (with the exception of one that had to be cut off at 1.8k before a much longer scene). But here on Tumblr, I have for thee the first paragraph or so of each under the cut!

I don't know when these pieces will be finished, but I am having fun working on them alongside 2 new commissions! Thank you all for your patience!

101 Kinks: Bondage

Dabi has spent most of his life wandering through the forest. He was supposed to be a hunter, that's what his father told him he would be when he was young, a revered hunter who would surpass him and the current Grand Hunter in their village. But then he got sick. It was an illness that was rare in this day and age and one that left his body weakened, his fur falling out in places before growing back in dark and his skin taking on dark patches of pigment that look like perpetual bruises along his whole body. He had gotten sick and weak like his mother, but unlike her, he had no purpose when he was sick and weak. He couldn't be useful, so he was discarded as his father attended to his other littermates, and it was one day when he had tried to go out to train alone anyway, that he had pushed his body too hard and collapsed. He almost wishes that he'd died back then, but Natsuo knew where his secret training ground was and he'd gone to find him when he didn't come home on time. He brought him home and Toya slept for years before he had woken up, saw that any hope of his future as a hunter had been turned to ashes, and had taken on the name 'Dabi'. 

101 Kinks: Sadomasochism

Tomura doesn't tell anyone how the moment that he's standing, looking down at Re-Destro, the echoes of Decay having radiated out and destroyed everything around them, he stops feeling the pain in his hand or foot. He doesn't feel anything at all except his heart... stop. It stills in his chest. The next breath that he takes, and the one after that, doesn't seem to do anything for him, because when he stops breathing after he's asked if the CEO can fund the League's future success, he doesn't turn blue.  When they go to see the doctor after the fight, he has Ujiko see to Toga and Twice first. They need it more than him, because whatever is wrong with him, must be permanent. It must be bad, but not bad the way that Twice must feel when both of his arms are shattered, and not bad like Toga who really did nearly die. He would rather his party see their healer first than have him waste his time trying to revive him when he's pretty sure that he's a lost cause.  It takes a couple of hours for him to get in to see the doctor, having trusted Compress and Dabi to keep an eye on things with the PLF. Mister Compress's arm is destroyed, but he and Dabi are smart and inventive with their quirks. They'll handle anything that happens if something does. 

Turn It All (To Ash and Dust) Ch. 2

By the time he actually turns eighteen, nineteen on his false documents, the apartment finally looks more like a real home. For the first three months they were here, they were still sleeping in sleeping bags and only had a cooler and ice packs to keep their food cold. But then he'd been able to get a job at a nearby convenience store part time, Shigaraki had been offering his services online as a translator for Japanese, English, and French, and Giran had gotten a good look at his abilities as an arsonist and started giving him more work. Between those three streams of revenue, they had been able to buy a second-hand couch that acted as Shig's bed most nights while he and Shoto shared a bed in the single bedroom of the apartment. The fridge they'd bought was second-hand as well and was broken on one side, the cooling going way, way too cold and freezing anything put there solid. They got a microwave, but a stove and oven are still on the wish list, the three of them making due with a hot plate and electric kettle instead. They have a shitty ancient TV and an even older gaming console that Shigaraki has been playing with Shoto when he's finished with his studying. Dabi is out during the day most of the time, and while he's gone, Shigaraki is teaching Shoto around his work. Not villain shit, as far as he's aware, but making sure that he's keeping up with what would be expected of him if he were still able to go to school. At night, when he doesn't have an arson gig, Shigaraki makes him learn the same things. He's supposed to be going to take some kind of test in a month or two to get a high school diploma even though he hasn't been to school since before he burned. Whatever. He keeps up with what Shig wants him to for the most part, but a lot of what they're doing right now just feels like they're working towards normal lives. He certainly doesn't think that they're going to be bringing Japan to its knees out of this shitty little apartment.

Mindbreak Part 2

When they eventually get out of bed, Dabi walks to the bathroom and locks the other man out as he uses the toilet, though the other easily unlocks the door from the other side when he hears the shower start to go. He comes in and has absolutely no shame or qualms about coming right into, the admittedly, large enough, stall for the both of them. They bathe in silence, though Dabi's fur is bristling because he doesn't know what he's actually allowed. He said he would keep up appearances, but Shigaraki said he wouldn't hurt him. He wants to know how far he can push that. Though as he washes his body, his face burns as he sees his cock again,  "Is this--"  "No. If you're out of your cage for long enough you'll go back to normal." Which that, at least, is a genuine relief, given he has no intentions of putting that back on. Shigaraki still ends up being the one to decide that they're finished, and Dabi is embarrassed when, as soon as they start to get out, the other man grabs his towel again and starts to dry him off.  "I can--"  "I said I would take care of my puppy," Shigaraki tells him, running the soft cloth over his skin. "You said that you would behave. Go sit down and I'll bring your breakfast in a few minutes." 

101 Kinks: Free Use

He doesn't remember the experiments that they did on him. He thinks that's something he should probably be grateful about. He doesn't remember the experiments, but he remembers who he was before he was this, and his brain isn't actually fried. He has swaths of skin as black as night across his body that contrasts sharply with his natural skin tone, with thin lines of silver that separate each section, and he's older now. At first he just thought that they'd made him bigger, but no. He is older. Lots of time passed from when he was Toya Todoroki who burned alive on a mountain. The doctor definitely did shit to his head, because he doesn't feel like a child in an adult's body when he wakes up. He just wakes, knows that he's supposed to follow orders, knows that he has other abilities layered onto his body that he didn't before he burned, and he knows, immediately, that he needs to bide his time. That All For One and his monster maker created him to ensure that they have more soldiers for their upcoming war against the heroes. And if he's a good soldier, if he's the best, then he'll be on the frontlines. He'll have a chance of being up against Endeavor. 

[youcouldmakealife]

Stuff That Helps Me Write: Pacing (no, not that kind), and burnout avoidance

So this was supposed to be about something entirely different., but every time I started making a point, I got distracted by a second, bonus idea (ways to trick your brain when it's not cooperating with you! things I've tried (I will try everything) and what worked and didn't! what to do with writer's block!) and then start writing about that, and I've got half a dozen unrelated paragraphs going in my drafts, so I think I'm just going to make this a mini-series of 'stuff that helps me write and may also help you (or maybe they won't, I don't know, this shit's all subjective)'.

If there's anything in particular you'd like to hear about, or something about my process you're curious about, absolutely feel free to reply or shoot me an ask and I'll do my best to address them as I go.

But yeah, pacing. And more specifically, not burning out. I figured it was important I hit this one first, because I think it's the most important one, or at least, the one that makes the biggest difference.

With the caveat that I am someone who has repeatedly driven myself into burnout, I'm also someone who now knows why that is, and have been teaching myself how to, you know, not do that.

So. Here's how I, you know, don't do that.

Will preface this by again mentioning that most writing advice (and advice in general) never seemed to work for me, and I mostly thought I was just Bad at Doing Things, until I learned my brain's literally wired differently, and that I'd been trying to apply processes that didn't actually work for said wiring.

So instead, I figured out what worked for me. And what works for me isn't necessarily what will work for you, or even what will work for me a month or five years down the line, but it's going okay right now.

I'll straight up say that, contrary to all the Writing Advice, I don't write every day, and I don't think it's necessary, or even necessarily a good idea -- I have at times, but I no longer do, because if I write for more than six days straight I find the proverbial well dries up and I write less than I do had I just taken a break when I needed it.

Cognitive energy and the sort of ephemeral ~inspiration (work that's been done on a subconscious level) are fundamentally no different than physical energy: if you don't replenish it, you will run out. If you overdo it, you will run out. If you consistently overdo it without replenishing it, you will burn out.

Taking a page from hockey players here: if you did an intense workout right before a game they'd ask what the fuck was the matter with you. You need a nap and a meal and to get some stretching and light work in. Running at 100% all the time will burn you out in every single field, including this one.

That's not me saying not to run at 100% at all. I generally try to pace myself now, but if I'm really in it, and the words are coming easily, I don't stop until they stop -- I wrote just shy of 4k of later scenes for SAIT last week (my 2024 record!), all in one sititng, by hand, when I was supposed to be sleeping, because that's when the inspiration came. I didn't fall asleep until past 6am that night, and my hand is still mad at me.

But you know how much writing I got done the follow day? (None, I was busy transcribing 4k of handwriting). The rest of this week? (Not much more than that). Those bursts of energy are awesome, and honestly can make you feel like a writing god, but the well's the well, and I've learned my personal well is about 5000 words a week deep.

Before my most recent scrape with autistic burnout, which I'm still sort of climbing my way out of, that well was closer to 7500 words. But honestly, it probably wasn't; I was likely just siphoning words from future wells and then it all caught up with me when I was looking at a horizon of dry-ass wells ahead of me. (I'll admit this isn't a perfect metaphor.)

But seriously, my advice for basically everything, not just writing (and something I wish I'd learned before I hit my 30s), is 'figure out what pace you can work at sustainably'.

Please note that 'sustainably' is not 'without literally dying'. Because my literal ass thought when people said 'give it 100%' they meant, you know, 'give it 100%' (I know! absurd of me), rather than 'give the best effort you can give in this moment considering your current resources'. So I gave it my all (also interpreted that one wrong I guess?). And then I wondered why I kept hitting a wall all the time. And why, eventually, I stopped being able to climb that wall entirely.

I don't think I'm ever going to reach that 7500 word threshold again. There will be weeks I'm so inspired I write that much, but the next week I probably won't manage more than 2500. Or maybe I'll have two 7500 weeks in a row, but I'll need to take a whole week off after that, or spend several weeks working at a lower tempo while I let the well replenish itself.

I've been tracking some metrics quite closely as I sort of tweak my life into its new shape (said shape being 'do the best you can given your resources') , and during my most productive month of this year I wrote 3x as much as the worst (writing wise, I was finalising publication at the time), my current weekly average is about 4800 words. Sometimes it's a bit higher or lower, sometimes much higher or lower, but that's what I can sustainably do right now.

Frankly, I'm a little cranky about this: I know I can do more, because I did do more. But my priority now is not to send myself straight back into burnout again, so when I sprint, it's just that, rather than my previous 'trying to run a marathon at the pace of a sprinter'. I'm writing less than I used to, but it's honestly not that much less: because the pace is sustainable rather than boom and bust, I don't run myself ragged enough to desperately need a break.

I'm aware this advice only works if you have control over your own time, and a schedule that doesn't force you to focus on writing say, one day a week, or around other obligations, but the only real workaround for burnout is consistency, and that consistency cannot be your maximum.

Or, it can, but I guarantee you that will bite you in the ass at some point, and the pain of not getting enough done is nothing compared to the pain of not being able to get anything done because your nervous system threw up its hands and decided if you weren't going to listen to their clues (feelings, symptoms) or their warnings (Feelings, Symptoms) that you were overdoing it, they were going to shut your ass down until you listened.

0/10 do not recommend.

Next week: how to trick your brain into doing shit that it doesn't feel like doing, even though it's onto all your tricks by now. Or at least, how I trick mine.

[way2gowillow]

Toshinori couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. He knew exactly how high Midoriya’s academic standards were. The memory of being buried in challenging schoolwork himself wasn’t a fond one, and he didn’t envy the poor boy at all.

   “I’ve got 36 pages left. Then I’ll eat,” Izuku muttered, his voice tinged with determination but also fatigue. Toshinori furrowed his brow in concern.

   “That… that might take quite a while, don’t you think?” he ventured gently.

   Izuku sighed deeply, his frustration evident as he let his head fall onto the desk with a thud of resignation. 

Dadmight week has ended officially, but I managed to squeak out one last submission before the deadline. :') wish I could've submitted more honestly, if I had more time. @dadmightweek

Day 2: Homework/Take a Break

   Midoriya flipped through his assigned reading for what felt like the umpteenth time. He’d been buried in the book since 4 p.m., and his weary eyes drifted to the clock on his desk—8 p.m. He’d endured much longer study sessions before, but this particular assignment seemed to drag on endlessly. The book, Hero's Jurisdiction and Quirk Responsibility, wasn’t exactly riveting, and Snipe’s assignment to read chapters 3 and 4 had turned into a tedious slog when he realized he was falling behind.

  Only thirty… no, thirty-five… wait, thirty-seven pages left. He sighed, his tired eyes struggling to focus on the dense text. The letters blurred together as he tried to absorb each new piece of information, but the words felt heavy and lifeless, his mind drifting as he mechanically read on.

   “As discussed in chapter 2, Amendment 47 faced significant challenges in passing through the judicial system, with numerous quirk users staunchly defending their right to obtain licenses. The rejection of Amendment 23 and its subsequent impact on…” 

   Izuku’s eyes glazed over as he read the dry, lifeless text. He flipped through the remaining pages, his hope dwindling as he counted them. Thirty-six and a half more to go.

   He sighed in frustration, the words on the page blurring together, lost in a storm of paralegal jargon swirling in his tired mind. Footsteps echoed from the hallway, but he didn’t bother to check. He’d left his door open for a bit of fresh air, though even that seemed to do little to revive his focus. He was usually good at tuning out distractions, but now his eyes were so dry, he was half-tempted to ask Aizawa for his special eye drops.

   Come on. Just thirty-six more pages.

   He forced himself to read another paragraph, but his mind refused to stay focused. 

   What did I just read?

   Shaking his head, he tried again, managing to get a bit farther before the dense terminology tripped him up again. His thoughts drifted, and by the time he reached the end of the page, he realized he hadn’t absorbed a single word.

   What??

   With a frustrated groan, he let his highlighter slip from his fingers and dropped his head onto the desk in defeat.

   “At this rate, Kaminari’s gonna have to shock me back to life after I die of boredom,” he muttered, his voice muffled by the wood.

   A familiar, warm chuckle from the doorway made him lift his head, turning toward the sound.

   His mentor stood there, casually leaning against the doorframe in house slippers and sweatpants, his eyes filled with amused sympathy.

   “Bored to death, huh?” he echoed with a smile. Izuku perked up at the sight of him, grateful for the distraction from the tedious assignment.

   “Hey, All Might,” Izuku greeted, doing his best to muster up his usual chipper tone. “Didn’t notice you there.”

   “Well, the other boys mentioned you didn’t come down for dinner, so I thought I’d check on you,” All Might replied with a teasing smile. “I could hear the gears in your head grinding from the common room.”

   “Yeah, sorry about that. I must’ve lost track of time,” Izuku admitted, turning back to his book. He picked up his highlighter and dragged it half-heartedly across a few words. Stress practically radiated off him in waves, and he scratched his head in frustration. 

   Toshinori couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. He knew exactly how high Midoriya’s academic standards were. The memory of being buried in challenging schoolwork himself wasn’t a fond one, and he didn’t envy the poor boy at all.

   “I’ve got 36 pages left. Then I’ll eat,” Izuku muttered, his voice tinged with determination but also fatigue. Toshinori furrowed his brow in concern.

   “That… that might take quite a while, don’t you think?” he ventured gently.

   Izuku sighed deeply, his frustration evident as he let his head fall onto the desk with a thud of resignation. 

   Toshinori moved closer, laying a gentle, reassuring hand on his shoulder. The boy shifted slightly, his head rolling to the side, green curls spilling over the edge of the desk, obscuring the text beneath.

   “Come now,” Toshinori urged softly. “Take a break and have some dinner. You need to take care of yourself before you can tackle your work.” 

   Izuku stared up at him, eyes wavering as he debated whether to give in to his mentor’s advice; the pull of his stubborn determination warring within.

      His stomach answered for him with an embarrassingly loud grumble.

   Toshinori raised his eyebrows, a sly smile playing on his lips. He opened his mouth, ready to deliver the final nudge.

   “I haven’t eaten yet either. I wanted to wait for you.”

   Izuku’s resolve crumbled instantly. With a dramatic sigh, he slammed his textbook shut and rubbed his eyes in mock exasperation. “You can’t do this to me, All Might…!” he protested, his tone light despite his words.

   He quickly moved away from his desk, making a beeline for the door. Toshinori chuckled, the sound warm and genuine, as he joined him outside the dorm room.

—

  The udon noodles simmering in a miso umami broth were exactly what Midoriya needed. As he took his first bite, the savory flavor of the pork mingling with the rich broth seemed to melt away his lingering headache. With each satisfying slurp, the weight of his stress lifted, replaced by a comforting warmth that spread through his chest. Across from him at the table, All Might quietly enjoyed his own bowl of miso and noodles.

   “Wow,” Midoriya exclaimed between bites, his eyes lighting up. “Who made this? It’s amazing!”

   All Might’s cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment. “Ah, well… thanks,” he replied, a touch of bashfulness in his voice. “I’ve been picking up cooking lately, you know. Figured…” I want to feed you and care of you and sit down and spend time with you- “...with all this extra time on my hands, why not?”

   Midoriya sits at his bar chair, his legs swinging, kicking back and forth as he eagerly slurped down another helping of soup.

   “Mmmmm!” he hummed in contentment.

   So cute.

   The thought made Toshinori’s heart swell. If cooking for him was this rewarding, he decided he’d definitely make it a regular thing. Rather than reaching out to pinch his freckled cheeks, he simply smiled into his bowl, savoring the last of the broth.

“Don’t mention it,” Toshinori replied warmly.

   With a final, satisfied swallow, Midoriya set his bowl down with a content clink and let out a pleased sigh.

   “That was delicious, All Might. You’ve gotta show me how to make this next time. Maybe even my mom could try it?” he suggested, a bit bashful.

   Taken aback, Toshinori’s eyes widened in surprise, but a genuine smile spread across his face at the thought.

   “Of course! That would be great. I'm sure maybe your mother would rival my cooking.” Toshinori said with a smile.

   Izuku stood up, gathering the empty bowls and chopsticks. “Well, it’s a bit hard to beat Mom’s cooking,” he replied, noticing the fleeting wistfulness in Toshinori’s expression. He must miss Master Shimura, he guesses. Izuku couldn't even imagine the heartache of losing his doting and loving mother any time soon. Shaking his head to dispel the somber thought, he finished gently washing the dishes. Once he was done, he dried his hands and approached Toshinori.

   With a deep bow, he expressed his gratitude. 

   “Thank you Sir. I really needed that tonight. Thank you.” He says earnestly.

   Somehow Toshinori's eyes go wider, and he doesn't know exactly how to respond at the simple gesture of a homecooked meal for his boy.

Even with his head still bowed, Izuku’s growing smile was evident as he leaned into the comforting touch. The small gesture seemed to rejuvenate him, and he dashed back to his studies with renewed energy, making swift progress compared to his earlier sluggish pace.

  With their stomachs and hearts full, both Master and Successor went to bed content, their minds drifting into a peaceful sleep, each wishing sweet dreams across the dreamscape.

[sunscreenstudies]

A Step-by-Step Guide for Socially Anxious Email Senders

Read the horrible, horrible email you have to reply to and then feel relief at the fact that "well, at least it's not a phone call!"

Determine what parts you have to reply to i.e. if they asked you a question about something or if there's a part where you need to ask them a question about something

Set a timer for 2 min, 5 min, or 10 min depending on the importance of the email, but no longer!

Write your greeting: "Hi [their first name]" for friendlies, "Dear Mr/Ms/Dr [their last name]" for acquaintances

Write your ending (Yes, we're doing this now before we write anything else): "Best wishes, [your first name]" for friendlies, "Kind Regards, [your first and last name]" for acquaintances

Write "Hope you're well!" This is a game changer because now they know you're thinking of them BUT they don't feel like they have to answer in the way that typing "How are you?" does. Plus, the exclamation mark always helps to lighten up an email that otherwise might feel stuffy.

Answer their questions. If they asked multiple, then split up your answers with filler phrases such as "In relation to...", "In regard to...", "As for...", etc. Finish your paragraph with "I hope this helps, but if you have any further questions, please feel free to ask!"

Ask your questions. If you don't have any questions, then find the most complicated/unclear part of their email, rephrase it, and throw it in after a "Just a quick note to confirm my understanding of the project: [the rephrased bit]". This will let them know that you did thoroughly read their email, and it also provides them with an excuse to email you back with "yes, you're right" or "actually..." which removes the awkwardness they might be feeling as to whether there's any need to reply to your email or not. Finish your paragraph with "Thank you!" (it never hurts to be nice)

Check for spelling or grammar mistakes (if you don't have an extension like Grammarly, then copy and paste your email into Google Docs/Word doc/LibraOffice doc/etc. to check for errors there. Once you've corrected them, copy and paste the corrected text back into your email, replacing the original text)

Reread your email three times. Look at me. Look. At. Me. Three times. That's it! No more and no less! Your timer should have gone off by now, so times up, tough luck, you have to send it, the timer said so. If your timer hasn't gone off yet, then congrats! You beat the clock! Now let's celebrate by sending that horrible email immediatley.

Check your "sent" email box once - just once - to make sure that your email did successfully send and to shut up that part of your brain that's going "but what if they didn't get it?!" They got it. Exit your email browser/app.

Turn your phone/laptop on "do not disturb", leave your desk, make yourself a big mug of something hot (I personally prefer black tea, but you could make tea, coffee, hot chocolate, soup, etc. - whatever you enjoy the most!). Bonus Points: If you're at home or in an enclosed office, then throw on your favourite song or a dancing playlist, and spend five minutes dancing and shaking off that nervous energy before getting back to work. Congratulations: You did it!