#don't intentionally make life harder for everyone else around you

[krysmcscience]

^^^ Goodness gracious, T H I S. ^^^

This mindset of 'has never had to clean a public space' really rears its head at movie theaters, and I don't even have to say 'lemme tell ya' here, cuz I can actually say lemme SHOW ya:

This is a single row out of the five that were utterly covered in smashed popcorn. Five rows. Full. Of SMASHED POPCORN. You can't even get the full effect of the disaster from this picture, because it's only one row and was taken in the dark. Oh, and that back section? People don't even sit up there! That section is usually blocked off with metal bars to keep kids and teens and grown-ass idiots from falling off of it and hurting themselves!!!

Do you want to know how long it took an entire crew of eight people - janitors and managers alike - to clean all this up, between six brooms/dustpans, a push floor-sweeper, and an actual vacuum?

Twenty minutes.

Do you want to know how many people created this mess?

TWO.

Two people created twenty minutes of labor for a team of EIGHT.

Think about that for a second.

Now think about how you would feel if you had to clean that mess up all by yourself. Because I've had to do that before - a whole other separate theater, wrecked by two teen girls with apparently nothing better to do despite being there to watch a movie - and I can safely say that it is a singularly wretched experience.

Seemingly whole popcorn kernels just breaking apart into smaller and smaller pieces as you try with increasing desperation to sweep them up? Check. Tiny popcorn crumbs and hard bits embedded into the floor and refusing to come up even with the benefit of a vacuum? Check. Consistent sad crunching under your feet, unavoidably making the cleanup a little bit harder with every step you take? Check, check, aaaand check. Oh, and by the way, the next movie showing is in thirty minutes or less, and you've still got two other theaters getting out at near to exactly the same time that also have a half hour window for you to finish cleaning them up in, so chop chop, hurry up and get it done.

...Yeah. All of that mess, and for...what? A few minutes of adrenaline, maybe? Attention? The thrill of wasting the ten-plus actual dollars spent on all that popcorn???

In this particular instance, where I fortunately had a team of people to help out and share the suffering with, I like to think about what would have happened if - rather than just making them leave - we could have brought those two Literal Adult Men back into the theater they trashed, and made them clean up their own damn mess by themselves.

I really like to think about it.

Because I like to think it would have prevented them from doing the same thing to another group of janitors in the future.

im always thinking about that post where someones grandma said “some people have never cleaned a bathroom and it shows” bc it does show

[iamgodsoopsie]

Astarion Headcanons (that you probably won't like) Pt. 2:

Part 1 link

Part 3 link

More Astarion headcanons! (that are mostly me projecting but with an Astarion flavored twist.)

BG3 does an excellent job at depicting SA trauma and the beginning of the healing process/journey. Many of the headcanons I've seen floating around (intentionally or unintentionally) gloss over the uglier side of healing from (prolonged) trauma. I'm not judging anyone for magically healing him, he's fictional after all, but I'd like to make some more ...realistic... headcanons.

Disclaimer: Everyone's healing process looks different, but they tend share commonalities. These headcanons are based on my own experiences. Not everyone who is healing from their trauma will experience what I have or have experienced it like I have.

[Please don't message me with explicit details about your trauma. I am at the point in my healing journey where I can share my experiences, and commiserate with other's similar experiences, but I am unable to support others in a more personal manner at this time. I wish you the best of luck in your healing process/ journey.]

Spoiler warning

Mental illness, SA, & DV Trigger Warnings: I cannot stress these enough this post is much more descriptive and potentially triggering than part one was.

These headcanons are based on an Astarion who is still a spawn and romantically involved with a Tav who honestly loves him and isn't abusive or manipulative. Also Cazador is dead and Astarion got to stab him. They also assume that he himself does not turn into Cazador 2.0 or Wish.com Cazador.

I hope you're ready for abrupt mood swings.

--- One minute he's codependent and can't make a decision on his own because he's overwhelmed, the next he's hyper-independent and will take offense at any suggestion you make.

----- Astarion is aware that staying in either of the two extremes is unhealthy and would eventually lead him to acting like Cazador.

^ This ties into point two: You need walk the fine line between patient and understanding while he processes "200 years of Shit. PURE SHIT!". And at the same time you need to be firm in your own boundaries with how you allow him to treat you.

--- He's gone 200 years without autonomy and has no memory of what life was like before Cazador turned him. He has no frame of reference other than romance novels and watching couples interact with each other from afar.

-----TBH the best thing for him is to stay in regular contact with Halsin. The man has the same flavor as trauma as Astarion while also having strong boundaries and open honest/ healthy communication in his relationships. He can unjudgementally help Astarion navigate the pitfalls of his healing journey through first hand experience.

Plus Ultra Catholic levels of guilt.

--- Guilt for what he did while he was a spawn. Guilt for how he started his relationship with you (even after you've told him you forgive him multiple times). Guilt for how he lashes out at the one person who has shown him unconditional love (you). Guilt because he feels like he's dragging you down into his darkness and tainting you. Guilt because he fears he's pulling you down to bring himself up. Guilt for feeling guilty because it doesn't absolve him of his sins and makes healing harder.

Self-esteem issues

--- He was SA'd for 200 years, he was forced into prostitution, he was tortured in every conceivable way, he was made to do reprehensible things and learned to find "joy" in them because he would've lost all of himself and his humanity otherwise.

------ His inner saboteur (who sounds like Cazador and himself simultaneously- adding to his self hate) tells him that he is disgusting, wrong, filthy, a burden, unlovable, undeserving of happiness, a monster.

------- Like everything else these thoughts will become less frequent and easier for him to handle as time goes on. All you can do is love him while he self-flagellates and hates himself. One day he'll see himself as you see him.

^ Tying into all the points above, especially the one right before this one. You're going to feel useless. Most of the time all you can do is demonstrate your love for him and sit there with him while he is bombarded with years of repressed feelings forcing their way out.

--- In the beginning your attempts to help him will frequently seem to have the opposite of their intended effect.

----- It's important that you be honest with him about how you're doing mentally. It does him no favors if you set yourself on fire to keep him warm.

------- You'll be angry on his behalf and can't exact revenge.

--------- That being said you are helping him so much more than you think you are. I cannot express in words how much just being there while Astarion slogs through the painful process of healing will help him.

^ ALL of these will get less intense and easier to deal with in time. He will heal and move on from his horrid past. But, it will involve a lot of trial and error. He will have periods of exponential growth followed by a hard backslide in progress. But he will get there.

I wouldn't say that loving Astarion is hard, but it does involve conscious effort on both his and your parts.

[autumnslance]

By the way, gonna remind folks that trolling and harassment and making things harder for people in instances by deliberately goofing around and getting random folks killed are reportable. It's being disrespectful of others' time and play in general.

And the GMs in FFXIV respond to such reports and take them seriously.

Like, accidents happen when it comes to AOE markers for sure. People get turned around, or panic.

It's really damn obvious when a tank is chasing healers and DPS with an AOE tank buster. Multiple Times.

Standard behavior with a tank buster? Tanks move forward, everyone else moves back. Or tanks stay put while everyone else scatters.

Once? Sure, maybe the tank got turned around, and/or just kept moving in the same direction as some other folks, it happens.

Killing almost an entire Alliance party cuz you are obviously, deliberately chasing an entire group to the back of the platform that are trying to get away from you? Moving with the people in the group to catch as many as possible?

We are reporting you for trolling/harassment.

They got called out in chat for the obvious behavior, while also asking another Alliance to rez us cuz they got all but our tank and a melee, and one or two folks from the other parties, too. Had to use our LB3 on a Healer Rez when we could have used it on the boss, not to mention our DPS on the boss at all.

Just made the fight last longer for everyone for no good reason. In the brand new content folks are still learning and gearing for, too.

So yeah. Reported. Cuz it can be, and hope they enjoy the GM scolding.

Play those games with your friends, in runs that are mostly friends. Dungeons and 8man raids are a good place for it. If doing it in Alliance? Best to be a full Alliance of folks agreeing to a shenanigans run. We've had nights between pals where we try to murder each other in fun ways in raids, and have some stories of particularly legendary ones (there's a story of Eden Leviathan that's a favorite in our FC).

But even though this person was from our same world--we don't know you. So it's not cute or funny. If you don't like us--deal, it's a random Alliance raid, no one has to talk to each other, we're not in the same party, just do the job and move on with life.

Instead of getting a flag on your account as a problem. But if you get banned for such behavior over time, I'm certainly not going to cry about it.

And for the rest of you: If people are obviously, deliberately, making your instances a pain due to language, or actions that are intentionally getting you and others killed? It can be reported. Use the Support menu option and the Contact Us feature, there's options for it.

[ca-suffit]

Hi, thanks for all the work you and the people on this blog do. Sorry for what is no doubt an ignorant question but I’ve a learning disability which makes it harder for me to understand things that aren’t explicitly stated / i can find it hard to make the same leaps of logic others do. Which gives me no excuse to be ignorant of racism which is why im hoping you can help.

Why is it anti-black to talk about Louis running brothels and armand having once been forced to work in one?

Like I read the Arun/Maitre scene as louis reverted back to a time where he had power and agency and armand fell into place as that’s what he does, and because it manipulates Louis into thinking he has the power. Something which is undoubtedly made easier for armand to play and for louis to believe due to armands past.

Is the anti-blackness thinking that Louis has power here? Or that he’s abusing it?? Is the show anti-black for the scene or is it the interpretation that is anti-black?

Sorry this is probably really obvious and I’m just not understanding but I’d really like to.

hi and thank u! ppl are always welcome to ask questions here and anyone is welcome to give any additions too. I'm def not claiming to be any authority figure here (see the end of this post for more on this).

Why is it anti-black to talk about Louis running brothels and armand having once been forced to work in one?

It isn't by itself. Those are the character's real backgrounds.

Ppl keep mentioning what Jacob said after 2x6 so let me put it here

"Louis is seemingly on top of everything — he's become this very callous, cold businessman and kind of fallen back into 1910s Louis, just with a new shine," Anderson explains. (src)

I'm gonna do my best to break this down, cuz it's a few things.

a) The fandom usually uses this to call Louis a "pimp" without calling him a pimp. A pimp has a specific look and attitude that ppl strongly associate with stereotypes of black men. Alluding to this history with Louis can be a way to imply racial slurs. It's all done intentionally to never say any words out loud so that it's easier to claim innocent intent and make everyone else look crazy for "reading too much into it," "looking for drama," etc.

A pimp is technically what he was and what the show has called him too, but notice how that is not a word Jacob is using to describe anything. The fandom has been using that in a lot of ways to say antiblack shit from the first moment it was known here. It's not an issue by itself that Louis has this history, bcuz his whole character is "Louis" not "pimp." He's a complex character and also the main character and the audience is meant to feel what he's feeling. He's not a one-dimensional, black side character, which is where this would fall into being problematic.

If u aren't familiar with this, there are several antiblack stereotypes. The stories from the 2x7 trial and the way the animations are drawn rely on these a lot in order to talk about Louis and Claudia.

This is one part of it. Bcuz the emphasis is more on "businessman" but a lot of ppl want to slide into "pimp" so they can analyze things thru an antiblack perspective (whether they're conscious of this or not).

b) Armand's history is real too, but when ur bringing in words like "slave" around an interracial relationship where the brown man holds all the real power but ur saying he's the "slave" to the black man who is also a "pimp"....that's a problem. Armand was a slave in his own life outside of Louis. He is not Louis' slave. He can never be Louis' slave. Louis does not have any real power in that relationship.

What Assad said about the relationship was not trying to outright imply this, but the fandom will use what he said to argue antiblack points about this (that's not his fault either btw). Especially bcuz ppl overlay BDSM relationships to Loumand, which also use "slave" and "submissive" for terms, and don't consider the racial implications or actual power dynamics between them for these either (conscious intent or not). This was also part of Assad's comment...again, something intentionally in there from the show but fandom will end up treating too carelessly.

Is the anti-blackness thinking that Louis has power here? Or that he’s abusing it??

To put it simply, yes. The Loumand Arun/Maître scenes don't actually give Louis any power. It's something Armand allows to happen so he can manipulate Louis in those moments. Louis can't abuse power he doesn't have. Ppl's framing of it as if the power dynamics could *ever* change between them is the problem. It will never change. Framing Louis as an aggressor who could actually overpower Armand, enslave him, do whatever else, calls back to stereotypes of black men instead of the character we're seeing in front of us in Louis.

Is the show anti-black for the scene or is it the interpretation that is anti-black?

I'm guessing u mean the sex scene but this applies for all of the Maître/Arun scenes: no, the show isn't antiblack for this. It's the fan's interpretations that can go into this realm. The show obviously wants u to notice and remember their histories, but what is shown is taking care to place emphasis on what these things mean for their relationship in a sensitive and respectful way. It's not watering it down to some cheap visuals about "Louis the pimp and his sexy slave."

(Again, pls add anything if u want. It can be difficult to try and summarize these things concisely. I'm also as flawed as anyone so it's possible for me to make mistakes, come to the wrong conclusions, say the wrong shit. I try my best to provide at least a base for answers but posts are always meant to be conversations, not me trying to say I'm any authority on any subject)

[twistmusings]

May i request "how do they act around their crush" for the dorms heartslabyul and savanaclaw please?

How would Heartslabyul and Savanaclaw act around their crush?

CW: None

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts

Crushes hit Riddle super, super hard and they always surprise them when they happen. It's pretty rare for him to catch feelings, but when it does, he's never prepared for it. He just notices how badly his heart starts racing and that he's staring at them and that's when it click that he has feelings for them.

He tries to keep it low-key that he does have feelings for them to see if the crush is something that will peter out or not, but most of his friends and the other members of Heartslabyul catch on pretty quickly. For one thing, they don't often see Riddle lose his focus like that, so when that happens it really narrows it down to a handful of things that could cause it.

He will find his own ways to get closer to them. Asking them if they would like him to help them study for tests or if they need any tutoring would be a big one. He knows that he's intelligent and if he can leverage that to spend a little more time with them, then he will.

If asked, Riddle won't deny that he has feelings for them, but he will try to deflect. After all, it's still too new for him to know entirely how he feels and he doesn't want to be uncertain about how he feels when and if he decides to persue them.

He may try to flirt with them, though he is not all that good at flirting. Courting might be a better word for it: he will bring them flowers and small gifts whenever he can, and he is exceptionally chivalrous to them.

He probably ends up kissing them on impulse before he feels entirely ready to ask them out and nearly losing his damn mind over it because that wasn't what he planned.

Ace Trappola

Ace is a disaster with a crush. Being the only person among the others in the first year who has had any dating experience, he's nervous because of that. He knows that he didn't handle his first relationship with any sort of grace or nuance, and he's really afraid of finding himself going down the same path again.

He vehemently denies having a crush to the people around him and it doesn't work in the slightest. They know. They can all tell how he feels because he wears it on his sleeve and keeps giving them puppy eyes whenever they're not paying attention to him.

He basically goes through the five stages of grief for a crush. Particularly denial and depression, but he literally does go through all five stages at one point or another.

He self-sabotages terribly. He wants to have things work out but he also will intentionally do things to make his own life harder. He has some pretty high standards, too, and when he can't meet them he ends up super frustrated at himself and moody.

He sort of distances from his crush, and will give them excuses that don't make a whole lot of sense whenever he gets a bur up his ass. A crush really makes him a flaky friend.

Deuce Spade

Deuce both realizes and doesn't realize he has a crush. How can he possibly do that, you may be asking? Well, obviously he just assumes that he's very, very attracted to their personality platonically. He thinks that they're on the path to be super best friends. He gets so excited to see them and he thinks their smile is the best thing on the planet, so it's hard not to see them differently from everyone else. So, when he has the realization that he does have a crush, it hits him like a train.

He is teased about it by Ace approximately eight thousand times on the average day.

After he realizes he has a crush, he has such trouble talking to them. He still tries, but he trips over his words and freezes up when they ask him a question sometimes. He tries really hard not to be obvious about it, but it's a pretty stark change.

He's not possessive by any means, but he is protective. He cares so much about them that he's physically incapable of keeping is mouth shut if he hears someone shit-talking them and can't keep his hands to himself if he sees someone trying to intimidate them either.

He sort of takes a page from Riddle's book and will bring them gifts. Maybe not bouquets, but small things like a cool acorn or flower he spots on the way to class or something he brewed up in potionology that he feels like will be something they will find cool or helpful.

It takes him a long, long while to work up the nerve to ask them out.

Trey Clover

Crushes are very, very slow-burn for Trey. He recognizes the signs and definitely has a few moments of "I hope this doesn't awaken anything in me." leading up to him actually, finally admitting to himself that he has caught feelings.

Trey is a carer-- he wants to take care of the people he cares about, so he starts doting on them a little more than he has in the past. Makes sure they are eating and encouraging them to do things that will help make them feel good.

Of everyone, Trey is probably the one most likely to be able to successfully keep a crush under wraps. I think the only person who would probably clock him on it would be Chenya. Even Riddle would probably have a hard time tuning into the fact that he's acting differently around them.

He won't take long to ask them on a date, though it probably blindsides them because he really has no clue how to flirt.

Cater Diamond

Cater is very, very open with his interests. If he has a crush, there's probably rumors within the hour that they're going to get together because Cater can't keep his mouth shut and no one else at NRC can mind their own business to save their lives.

He is flirty. His lines don't always land-- in fact they're pretty cheesy most of the time-- but he definitely will keep pushing the bounds of what is considered friendship and what is considered romantic.

They will be starring in his Magicam feed a lot. Pictures with him, pictures of just them enjoying food or a drink, and pictures of them framed by pretty landscapes. They're always tagged with things referring to them as a best friend or generally complimentary.

On the same page, he will go out of his way to spend more time with them. Planning little "dates" which are tiny day trips or food tours or whatever else is new and he wants to try. He likes to take them along with him when he goes to experiment with the new trends.

He will ask them out, but wants to save it for an important occasion. Maybe Valentine's day or a dance or party. Regardless, he wants it to be memorable when he asks them out.

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar

He is noticably softer towards them than he is toward others. He isn't nearly so prickly, and he doesn't even realize he's doing it.

Leona is a bit older than the other students, so he's used to getting crushes at this point. However, he's never really had the time or energy to give them a shot until now, so his experience with dating really ends there.

He is used to people showing interest in him, not the other way around. After all, even being a second born prince is still a prince. What he likes the most about them is that they don't treat him differently due to his position, and since they don't he's still going to treat them more or less the same as he always has. He doesn't want them to feel like he's infantilizing them. They don't need taken care of unless they ask for it-- they're independent and self-reliant and Leona would be a fool to take that away from them.

He definitely hits on them. Playfully flirt-fighting mostly, but from time to time he will pull out something genuinely smooth to use on them. He always loves when he sees his flirting land and seeing their reaction.

Leona will ask them out, but probably at the worst possible moment. Either a) when he's in an emotional rut and is grouchy and wants to lash out at people or b) when they two of them are in some kind of peril and don't have time to talk about any of it.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie knows he has a crush pretty early on. He's not used to feeling taken care of an admired and that was novel. He realizes quickly how much he likes to be around them and how comfortable he feels with them and he's like "Oh, I guess this is just how it feels to realize you're kind of in love with someone."

He flirts a little bit, but it's rare enough and subtle enough that they probably don't notice about 70% of the time, and the other 30% of the time it's unclear if he was flirting or if his choice of words just made it seem that way.

Ruggie will do things for them that he would never do for anyone else. At least, not without being under duress or being obligated to by a job contract. Cooking them home-cooked meals is usually the most notable one. He is a pretty great cook when he puts his mind to it!

He probably won't ask them out, at least not while they're in school. He's a little too reserved and cautious to do all of that. But, if he's close to graduating and realizes it's now or never, he will do it now. He wouldn't want to let them slip through his fingers. He's not the sort of person who misses out on opportunities when they arise.

Jack Howl

Jack is not the sort of person who wears his feelings on his sleeve. It's hard to even know if he has a crush on someone even if he is inwardly having a minor panic over it. Usually the quickest way to tell how he's feeling would be to look at his tail, as that's the part of him that's hardest for him to mask as indifferent.

Jack is exceedingly slow to realize and come to terms with his feelings. He likes them, but before he can comprehend anything beyond that he has to figure out precisely how much he likes them. It's about the time that he starts asking himself if he would like to kiss them that he realizes "Oh, shoot, that's a crush."

Jack is not a flirt. In fact, he tends to backpedal if he does flirt, so instead he will simply... ask them to spend time with him and if they would like to do things with him throughout his day. Even if it's just running errands together or something-- he treasures every moment he gets to spend with them, no matter how small.

Jack is another one who will absolutely refuse to admit he has a crush to anyone else. Actually, they could probably be married for upwards of five years and have a child on the way and he would still be too shy and stubborn to admit he has a crush.

Jack will ask them out after a lot of careful deliberation and planning. After all, wolves are monogamous, so he wants to be very, very sure that this is what he wants before he acts on it.

[thecatchat]

Organizing some thoughts

This is so much longer than I meant for it to be. I looked back at old posts using the archive feature on desktop and I was really meaning to just look for the post about the different dragon body parts and the different magics we gave them but I just kept finding cute, funny, or informative posts so here have a review of some of my favorite ideas we haven't seen in over a year. @thebadchoicemachine

Apparently we made Foolish into Daft, since it's one letter away from Draft, like drafting a plan. She's also a woman now, do we want to keep that? The name mishap came because when they introduced themselves to a exhausted, heat stricken sailor misheard the name and now everyone calls them that and it's a little too late to correct them now. Apparently they are now based off a turtle or sea turtle? Don't remember that part but I could roll with it.

I think we have Alex down as being like 8-10 years old physically? At least at first. How much do they age through out the lenses? I mean, with all the wonky time space dimension hopping and reality warping we have going on, they don't necessarily have to grow up.

Reminder for self mostly: replacing the SBI group is Revrie, god of the dimension Lull, basically a very flexible, light world. Very dream like. Revrie has adopted three Travelers (or they are all from Lull, I'm a sucker for found family but you imagined them all from Lull, I'm fine either way): Flame, Spark, and Ash.

Flame looks like they could kill you and would kill you. Either is from or really takes inspiration from apocalypse worlds and looks like he (they? she?) eats bricks for breakfast. They're a little mellowed out, but they still bounty hunt in random dimensions for fun and to keep in shape.

Spark looks like a cinnamon roll, would kill you. Could either be from or take lots of inspiration from super spy action movie type worlds. Has a ton of gadgets, small enough to crawl in vents, hyper competent in spying. Not the strongest but can kill you in 10 different ways with a spoon. Absolutely terrible at everything else. Never let them into a kitchen or do household chores. Small talk is abysmal. Look charming but once they open their mouth it's all over. Also, sparks = electricity = gadgets and tech.

Ash looks like they could kill you, is a cinnamon roll. Originally, I was getting werewolf vibes, but like hyena werewolf vibes. Now I'm rolling it through my brain. Maybe more Painted Wild Dog, or Maned Wolf, or maybe a different species entirely. Has the potential to break bones with their bites, but would prefer to prank and/or mess with people. And maybe a hug. Still mildly feral but in a cute, charming way. Just wants attention.

Suite and card titles for the Prowa quartet! Cue = Ace of Clubs. Rue = King of Spades. Bill = Queen of Diamonds. Switch = Jack of Hearts. Also, Switch is part chameleon and can change the color of his scales, which are dotted around his body like freckles. Also, I remember a post where Nite learned about Switch being slightly cold-blooded and he just, followed him around for the rest of the day, and heated up the rooms so Switch would be "safe from the cold" in a sense and that's too cute.

Dragon kingdom culture/slang. Enemies is an actual social title, referring to people who intentionally try to make your life harder or prevent you from reaching your goals. Used for things like people trying to get the same job position as you, annoying customers, wild animals, etc. Arch-Enemies are similar but more special: given to people who have genuine negative feelings towards the other, is often mutual, and born from personal fudes. Rivals are like Arch-Enemies but instead of coming from a place of hatred, it comes from the desire to see the other person grow and overcome challenges.

Another thing: Growing up, Nite was constantly being "summoned" places, summoned by his dad's, summoned by his soldiers, etc. I think "summon" is just short hand for "arriving/traveling to a place". If only to have the line "someone summon 911." or "Who summoned me?" jokes.

I should make memes for this story. I haven't done that since before the reboot.

We gave the soul/life draining powers to the people of the End Nation because it made their culture of constantly covering up all their skin and wearing masks make sense, especially since if you're already covering up every inch of skin, might as well dress up and exaggerate your body language to get your point across.

Found the post where we talk about different magics for the different parts of the body of the dragon. I have Thoughts about this but I will save it for when it is not 1:30 AM.

[bonesandthebees]

PHIL’S POV!!!

I’m gonna cry. The carriage story. How fast his brain works. The stone cold worry for his son’s safety. The threats! His son will be found and the person who did this will pay. Oh and this line single handle destroyed me: [But now, for the first time in his whole life, Wilbur was too far for Phil to reach.] He loves the boy so much, Bee. I can’t handle this amount of love. These are just words on a page. Yet I can feel all the grief and love and worry and anger and sorrow. (Not the mention the constant tension I felt knowing what he was about to be told, just waiting for the anvil to drop).

Also, Wilbur being unable to sleep on carriages is much more of an important plot point than I expected it to be. He falls asleep faster/easier than Tomys because he couldn’t rest on the way there. He must be so tired even his panic can’t keep him awake. (Tbf, the panic attack would probably seep energy too). And then we know both Niki and Phil know him well enough to know he can’t sleep on a moving vehicle. And there’s already so much love stored in Phil deciding to let Wilbur rest first because his son truly is the most important thing to him.

[and Wilbur would jerk his head up with a sharp gasp. For a moment, his eyes would be filled with fear. Then, he would see Phil sitting above him, and all the tension and terror in his small shoulders would drain away as he laid his head back down.] given everything else, I think stabbing me might have hurt less than reading this.

We also know how Niki and Phil know this, which is when they visited Summerdam. And I am, so soft. Phil not sleeping but keeping an eye on his kid and then his kid can’t sleep because things keep waking him up and he gets so upset that his little boy can’t sleep (also the self-control he had then is getting thrown into the wind when his child is in actual danger).

Side note: this is your usual technique of hitting us with the fluff to make the angst hit that much harder. I can’t cope with the fact that Phil forgets to breathe. And he’s so protective, but the one time he lets his son out of his sight / sends him away on his own, something happens to him.

Lastly (because there’s so much in this single section, not to mention everything else, I can’t possible get it all yet, I am still skipping over So Many Things) Phil’s brain works so damn fast. He subconsciously knows the second the turns around and sees Sneeg (though hearing him already kinda sets off the alarms). And then everything else quickly falls into place. He knows something happened to his son and he knows it was foul play and whoever responsible better pray that Wilbur returns alive because there will be no mercy (there will be no mercy at him returning with a broken leg either).

P.s. poor Sneeg who knows this man and who much he loves his son so well (because of now confirmed constant surveillance of said beloved child) and has to be the one to tell him his son might be dead.

-🌲

HE LOVES HIS SON SO MUCH!!! I literally added that carriage story to show everyone how much phil loves that boy. he's not the best at showing it but the love is there. and I wanted to show that while phil does like getting his answers fast and prioritizes information, he would rather let wilbur rest and catch up on his sleep before asking him what happened at L'mannes. he's doing all of this for wilbur, so his wellbeing comes first and foremost

love that you felt like you were stabbed. that's how I felt writing it. I did this to myself but oh my goddddd

he just wanted wilbur to sleep on the carriage ride but he just couldn't relax and he'd be so scared when he was startled awake until he saw his dad and he was so little spruce he was only ten years old and phil just wanted his little boy to get some rest aaaaa

it's so funny when you point out that technique of mine because I don't even always do it intentionally. with this I didn't sit there going "oh I'm going to add this fluff scene specifically to make everything that follows worse" I added it bc I wanted to show the depth of how much phil loves wilbur. it just also has the bonus effect of making everything so much worse

yes phil's mind works so quickly because he's incredibly smart. he knows how these things work. not to mention there's also parental instinct at work here because the second he sees sneeg he can feel that something has gone wrong. and he's going to get revenge on whoever hurt his son.

poor fucking sneeg man is just here for a paycheck and now he's gotta tell the consil that his beloved son is missing will probably be presumed dead if they don't find him soon

[mrvlbimbo]

reader and Eddie aren’t really close but they both unknowingly think each other are attractive but reader thinks Eddie is way out of her league. So they’re in the car with dustin, max, mike and Steve, but there’s no room for the reader so Eddie offers for reader to sit on his lap. So they’re both really nervous and reader keeps shifting in his lap so he grips her hips to get her to stop because he’s getting hard and he’s really embarrassed about it and uh yeah u can decide what happens next😅 (srry if you’ve already gotten a similar request!!)

I HAVENT GOTTEN ANYTHING LIKE THIS ITS SO GOOD!

(Very public smut, dry humping, slight sub!eddie, everyone in the car is unrealistically oblivious but let’s just pretend they were rlly quiet)

"Road triiiip!" Steve announced, jingling his keys as he loaded everyone into the car.

"Why are we road tripping again?" she asked, unamused by his cheerful attitude due to the fact they were in a somewhat dire situation.

"Because someone is being charged with murder,” Steve replied, jokingly, shooing everyone into car.

Her and Eddie were the last to go and there was only one seat left. She offered to drive and leave Steve to deal with the lack of seats but he shook his head and replied "Figure it out."

"I don't mind if you uh...sitonmylap," Eddie muttered, both of their eyes widening at his words.

"Ok yeah that's fine," she replied, getting into the car after him and settling with his chest to her back. She squirmed around a bit trying to get comfortable.

"Ew," Mike mumbled, turning to look out the window and avoid looking at them.

"Don't be rude, Micheal," Eddie chastised, wrapping his arms around the girl on top of him to get them in a more comfortable position and to stop her from grinding on his already half hard dick.

Although the current situation wasn't ideal he wasn't going to complain about her closeness. It didn't mean anything, she was barely a friend and she was only sitting with him because there weren't enough seats for everyone but that didn't stop the butterflies in his stomach when she looked back at him, faces only inches away from each other.

"So..." she started.

"So?" he urged her to continue, wanting her hear more of her sweet voice even if it was making it astronomically harder for him to keep his cool.

"Tell me about yourself.” She shrugged, again moving her body just a little too much. He groaned lightly and hoped she didn’t notice.

"Seriously?" he asked, a little surprised by her inclination towards small talk at a time like this.

"Yeah, Munson. Im practically sitting on your dick, so I think it's time we get to know each other,” maybe he was imagining the teasing lilt in her voice, but either way it sent his blood rushing downward.

He twitched at her words, he fucking twitched. "Fuuuck. Don't say that."

She giggled, pressing her hips back more intentionally this time. “Hm, what’s wrong?” She asked, a mischievous grin coming across her face.

“Now you’re just doing it on purpose,” he whined, the sound muffled by his face pressing into the skin of her neck.

“Oh. Do you want me to stop?” She asked innocently, halting her movement for only a second. She took the time to look around the car and make sure everyone else was occupied and sure enough they were, creating some semblance of privacy for them.

“Please. Please don’t stop.” He grabbed her hips, clawing desperately for friction.

“Can you cum like this? Gonna be a good boy for me?” She reached back, tangling her hand in his hair. Her hips set a slow but deep pace, brushing her panty clad core against the denim of his jeans.

Her skirt had ridden up where he was now gripping her thighs for dear life. “Yeah. Yeah. holyfuckingshit.”

He stilled his hips, a wet patch forming on the surface of his jeans. “Did you just…?” She questioned, not able to see the blissed out and somewhat embarrassed look on his face from the way he we hiding it in the crook of her neck.

“Yeah…” he admitted awkwardly, fingers kneading the flesh of her thighs to distract from his embarrassment.

“Cool,” she whispered in awe, head falling back against his shoulder.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, fast enough that she could’ve missed it. “I had the biggest crush on you in Highschool.”

“Yeah, I know,” she giggling, turning her head to the side to suck little marks into the skin of his neck and collar bone.

“Can I kiss you? Like for real this time?” He asked, one of his hands cupping her jaw to keep her facing him.

“Mhm,” she mumbled, leaning forward to press their lips together finally, moving slowly against each other.

“Alright knock it off you two, no smacking face in my car,” Steve grumbled, glaring at the two of them through his rear view mirror.

Eddie instantly corrected his hand placement, moving the hands on her thigh and on her face to a respectful position around her waist. “Sorry, Steve,” he muttered, a mischievous smile adorning his face as his fingers slipped under the fabric of her skirt.

@angelsarecallin @sebby-staan @niviiera @chaoticgurl @evqans @slut-for-matt-murdock @multihaven @tinyboxxtink @hold-our-destiny @weh-heh-heh @battiebabe216 @captain-satan @avril-reblog-cave @dragon-ash13 @stxvercgersslut @fangirl199812

[terrence-silver]

How do you think any era of Terry Silver would react to see his beloved working very hard as a waitress/busgirl in a restaurant?

Why do I imagine the 80's poorsona Terry showing up every day to eat at a diner?

Like, he has a (fake) image to uphold, especially while in the business of revenge and tricking Daniel, and it has to be fully immersive and believable. He views this a bit like theatre, where he’s playing all the roles and directing the script too. He needs to eat like the commonplace man does, in a venue where where the everyman goes to, consuming everyman meals. I imagine him being meticulous with when he visits, like, the time and the minute is always eerily the same, because this is a very controlled and non spontaneous thing that is only supposed to look spontaneous and natural without actually being so. The staff would definitely notice that this big, tall, long haired guy always shows up at exactly the same time and leaves exactly the same time --- down to the second. Maybe sometimes he deliberately orders small portions in between classes, with his dojo right across the street, which he takes back with him, so Daniel would see that Terry is indeed hard done by, and he eats very little (even though he never, ever, ever complains acts the ever-grateful, humble role), as to evoke sympathy. Instructs the servers to intentionally make the food appear unappealing and he pays extra for it too. Some of the oddest requests they had to date from one of the most weirdly out of place customers ever. But, enough about that --- he could very easily meet beloved here:

Of course, he gages her out too.

I think Terry gages everyone out, as per habit.

He wants to see how she'll treat him and view him with a busted up Ford in the parking lot and him deliberately fishing around in his jeans for a tip, as if though there's actually no change in them and he’s struggling to actually find some (which isn't the case --- it is all a front). He wants to test her patience and empathy, and see how far the limits of it go. Why her? Why not. She caught his attention and that is reason enough. Sufficient motivation for him. I think Terry does and has always done this for fun. Donned the airs of an ordinary man to feel out the pulse of the people, catch them slipping up and acting out because people tend to do so when you aren't exceedingly wealthy and they don't feel they have anything to gain from some punk. He plans to have a little bit of amusement with this waitress, as a social project, while on the business of playing Daniel like a fiddle. Except, turns out, she's nice to him regardless of how he presents himself. Peculiar. He's annoyed when this shit happens, because Terry's always on the task of digging up someone's darker, fouler instincts. It is no fun when there's just none to be found and people are naturally good for the sake of it. I think he hates that, because such individuals are...incorruptible, and as such, harder to control, and he wants to control them. So, he amps up the heat. He's still in the mindset that this is just a bit of mindfuckery for the busgirl and a lot of laughter for him. He starts leaving bigger and bigger tips --- contradictory for a man with a broken down car. He talks to her, prods her about herself, flirts with her. Asks her if this what she wants to do for the rest of her life. There's prosperity elsewhere --- he ominously adds, not clarifying much else, luring her in.

On the downlow, he multitasks and actually buys the diner.

No grand feat for someone who's a Billionaire.

But now? Technically, he's her boss and she doesn't even know it. Perfect!

Neither does anyone else, and they don't care, they keep working, as usual.

All they know is that they have new management, and that's exactly how Terry wants to keep it too. Beloved gets a mysterious raise. What are the chances? A bonus too! She gets elected worker of the month!  She gets days off. Their colleagues start doing the bulk of their work for them (as per instruction from, uh, above) their job is generally easier out of the blue and it isn't any coincidence. He ironically ends up doing a load of good things in his yearning to get something out of beloved --- he isn’t even sure what anymore. I think that Terry would compartmentalise whenever he comes to the diner and finds beloved actually smiling and not falling off of their feet serving tables anymore, because he intervened. He supposes he feels pleasant here, and why shouldn't he? He should have whatever he wants. A pocket world all of his own, just like this one, if he so wishes. He's Billionaire CEO and Karate Sensei pretending to be just a guy, but here, he's...Terry. Maybe this all reminds him of John? A long, long time ago, John told him he was a busboy before the army? Could be it. Could be all part of the elaborate ruse to make himself relatable in the off chance he's spotted around town? Could be because he actually wants all of this? Could be because Terry's fantasizing scooping beloved off to his actual life, up on The Hills and never letting them work and serve someone's putrid coffee ever again, unless she's serving his, his, his, his. Maybe he should have the very revenue he bought shut down purely so beloved be forced to rely on him, so he could swoop in, like a big hero, and help them? Perhaps he should fire anyone? Only keep beloved out of the whole personnel, as a little figurine in his makeshift pocket world, serving him his...what’s this? Pancake. Hmm. Strange, for someone undoubtedly on a regular diet of Beluga Caviar and Champagne. Could be why Terry and beloved are on their tenth date and Terry desires more. 

He has beloved wrapped around his fingers and he finds that he rather likes it.

[step-on-me-khun]

Hey, I read most of your work on Wattpad and one of my favorites is the Tower of God Character x Reader. I like to make request. A lemon chapter of Khun secretly finding out the Reader feelings for him after she was having a private conversation with one of the girls she most closet with after they got back from a near death experience mission and she thought everyone was away or in their room and coast was clear.

Aww thank you - oh wow, this is pretty elaborate, but I like it

Warning(s): Smut - No minors please

Word Count: 2206

It almost felt like your whole world was falling apart. At the moment where you thought something horrific would happen, that was it, and everything fell to pieces. Something had made you and others separate, not intentionally. It was the towers way of doing things, of messing with yours and everyone's minds.

Things had been tense between you and Khun, and it made you avoid him. Neither you nor Khun had said anything nasty to each other. Being around him was difficult. Khun's attitude made it easy to both love and hate. And he could tell when something was wrong and enjoyed calling you out on it. Those actions weren't something you currently wanted. That's why you avoided him.

But things happened. The tower decided to throw a dangerous situation towards the team, injuring some in minor ways and you in an almost life-threatening kind of way.

Even after you recovered, you still wanted to avoid him. It didn't matter if he watched you as you got better. Being around Khun made it harder to hide any kind of hint that you harboured feelings for him.

At times, you felt like crying over your feelings. You were never ashamed of them, but you just wanted so badly to tell Khun what you felt. But it scared you. Just imagining an interaction with Khun made it harder to keep your tears inside. Reject would hurt you, but an admission from him would probably prompt you to cry yet again.

Overthinking was all that you would do. You were well enough to climb the tower again, but everyone told you to rest a little longer to make sure you were strong enough. Getting injured again was the last thing you wanted.

You spent most of the time chatting with either Endorsi or Hwaryun, but it was Endorsi you connected more with, but you had to beg her not to spill stuff when you confided in her. She knew your secret and kept it well hidden.

"All you do is overthink things," Endorsi says as she walks around your bed, her arms folding as she looks down at you.

Any activity from your room, any at all, and Khun walked past the door of your room. Khun didn't want you to avoid him. He felt as if he needed to listen and understand you. His attitude might not be the best, and he wasn't always good with hints that others threw his way - mainly because he didn't want to do the obvious - but Khun did care about you. Every second he was away from you broke pieces of his heart. He missed teasing you and having conversations with you.

"Leave me alone, Endorsi. I hear this too often, and I don't need it anymore," you quietly say.

"Fine, I'll go," Endorsi says, moving towards the door, "but either you tell him, or I might have to make it more than a little obvious to not just him, but everyone,"

"Please don't do that. I will tell Khun eventually, don't do anything drastic,"

What did (Y/N) need to tell Khun? At first, Khun thought that maybe there was a problem, but then, he realised what you were keeping from him and why you were so keen to avoid him. Khun knew what he felt and knew how to keep his feelings at bay for a hell of a long time. But maybe the words you exchanged with Endorsi were hinting towards something else.

Khun swiftly hid in his room as Endorsi emerged out of yours, pouting as she left. She could be stubborn at times, but damn, did she hate it when others were just as stubborn.

Every emotion hit Khun, every single interaction ran through his head, looking for a hint, anything. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that he loved you, and if he did the wrong thing, it could jeopardise his friendship with you. But there was a rush running through him. Khun couldn't wait any longer. The only thing that mattered was making his feelings clear.

"That sounded like a nice conversation you were having," Khun says as he wanders into your room, startling you as he makes his way over.

"What did you hear?" You ask.

"That depends on what you wanted to tell me," Khun knew what he was doing, but he wasn't sure if he was confident enough to be upfront with you. His hands rested on your bed as you sat up. Khun's face moves mere inches from yours.

"I, er, I'm not comfortable with you being this close,"

"I can leave if I'm making you feel uncomfortable,"

"No," you nearly yell as your hand reaches for his.

By now, it was clear that his hunch about that conversation was correct. Your reddened face was an indicator too. Khun knew how to make people talk, but this wasn't an excuse to torture you.

"I could guess what you wanted to tell me, but," Khun says, his hand gently cupping your face and sitting at the head of your bed, "I think I'm just going to show you how I feel instead,"

This whole interaction felt so calm and kind of unlike Khun. There was rarely a time where he was as gentle as he was now. An endless ocean of blue was the only thing you saw before Khun's lips pressed softly onto yours.

To Khun, you were delicate, like a precious gem or a flower. Maybe he was being so gentle because he didn't want to hurt you. You had recovered from an injury. He didn't want you to get hurt again.

Everything inside your mind disappeared. All the worry of admitting your feelings vanished. What you wanted was right in front of you, latching onto your mouth.

Your hands travel up to the collar of Khun's shirt and pull on it slightly, indicating that you wanted more.

If Khun wanted to play tricks on you, he would have, but everything about him seemed so serious. There was no way he was going to play any trick on you now.

Just as you got into the kiss, Khun's mouth released yours. Again, he was inches away from you.

"This isn't your way of trying to prank me because if it is, it isn't funny," you say, your eyes more focused on his mouth than his eyes.

The hands cupping your face tilted your head, making you look him in the eye. "I'd never want to do anything to hurt your feelings," his lips attach to yours quickly, stealing your attention again with a passionate kiss, "I don't expect you to believe me, but I do love you."

"You mean that?"

"I don't want to lose you again. Let me stay here for tonight. You have no idea how much I've missed being around you,"

Again, your mouths collided. You moved closer to Khun until you were sitting in front of him, your hands moving down from the collar of his shirt, now unbuttoning it.

Khun took the hint and released your mouth briefly as he pulled the shirt over his head, then returned to you.

Lust controlled your actions. Khun was right in front of you, his eyes on your face as you lifted your top and pulled it over your head, exposing yourself to him. The only thing you had on was your underwear. Other than that, you were essentially naked.

Embarrassment grew inside you at Khun's eyes staring at you. To shift the feeling of being uncomfortable, your shaky hands move towards Khun's trousers and quickly tug them down. Maybe it was a little obvious just how flustered you were.

"Don't feel embarrassed, beautiful," Khun says as he sits up to remove his remaining clothes, "the last thing I want to do is make you feel uncomfortable or hurt you,"

Now your eyes are on Khun, not like you were staring, but his blue eyes were always something to get your attention.

Khun's hands got to your hips, getting you to sit up while his fingers gently pulled on the fabric of your underwear, just until they were at your knees, then he let you get rid of them.

Watching you was something Khun liked doing, and whenever he could, he would tease you for it. No matter what you were doing, the way you concentrated on something made you look so much like an angel.

As soon as you moved in front of him again, Khun's hands were on your hips, guiding you as you straddled him.

"You ready?" Khun asks, his dark eyes looking up at you like you were the sun, and he needed warmth.

You close your eyes and steady your breathing. A moment of realisation shot through your mind. Everything could all be some dream, some sick and twisted fantasy your brain concocted as a coping mechanism. But the way Khun's lips felt, or the way his hands touched your face. Those feelings he left on your skin were going to be there for a while.

A shy nod was all you gave as you lowered yourself down on him, feeling a slight tingle as his whole length reached inside you.

"Ah, fuck," you cry, lifting yourself a little.

"I don't think so," Khun says quietly, his hands holding your hips in place as he thrusts his up to meet yours.

The way he held you and just how close you two were, was nothing short of magical.

Khun was gentle and slow with you, only thinking of you and your injuries, which you had recovered.

"You don't have to be this gentle with me, you know," you moan into Khun's ear, "I'm not in pain, and my injuries are gone,"

"I know that," Khun says, kissing your shoulder, "I just don't want to be rough with you yet,"

Witnessing Khun being sweet and kind did throw you off a bit, but if he did love you, then he would mean it. And it felt like he loved you.

"Sorry I've been avoiding you for so long," you say, looking Khun in his eyes.

"Stop it," Khun pushes you down onto the bed, "you don't need to explain anything to me, I understand,"

The change in position made it a lot easier for Khun to thrust inside you, and his pace and speed increased slightly, but not enough to be too rough on you.

His eyes remained fixed on yours like he wanted to see every emotion hidden behind your (E/C) eyes. Not many people liked Khun for his bluntness and personality as a whole, but you lived with it and grew to love it. The teasing wasn't always the greatest, but once you sarcastically snapped back at him, that was it.

Your wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer, earning a groan from him as his pace continued.

All this because Khun was eavesdropping. He had to know everything. Khun was a lightbearer, after all, and he was used to gaining information from others.

Both Khun's arms lay flat beside your head, his fingers softly stroking at your hair.

"I love you so much," you cry as your hands find his arms, nails digging into his pale skin.

"I know you do," Khun responds, his hips snapping into yours a little harsher.

The way your facial expression changed and how heavenly you sounded as you moaned and cried out his name was more than enough to keep Khun going.

You could tell your climax was quickly approaching, your stomach tightening as Khun moved faster.

"F-fuck," you cry, hiding your head in Khun's neck.

"Mmm," Khun groans, moving his mouth to your ear, "you feel so good,"

Your legs tighten around him as your orgasm builds up, your walls tightening around him as he keeps thrusting into you. You never wanted this to end. Never in a million years did you ever expect Khun to confess to you. Khun having feelings for you never crossed your mind at all. All you did was overthink about how much you loved him, not about Khun ever having feelings for you.

Everything turns white as you came, your nails still digging into Khun's arm.

The sound of Khun's hisses and groans made everything feel real again. His pace sped up a little, hoping to help him come quicker. Khun wanted to hold you again.

Khun pants and struggles for air a little as he comes, his mouth still at your ear. "I love you so much," he says as he slowly moves off of you.

"I'm kind of glad you eavesdropped," you admit.

"If you avoid me again for any reason," Khun start, pulling to the top of the bed with his so your in his arms, "I'll make sure you get what's coming to you,"

"Is that a promise?"

Khun smirks at your comment and kisses your forehead. "That depends, my dear,"

You make yourself comfortable and close your eyes, happy and warm beside the person you loved more than anything.

Of course, you wanted to see if he kept that promise, but at the same time, avoiding Khun again wasn't something you wanted to do.

{please don't steal what I write}

{taglist - ask to be added}

@unexceptional-h @rizonacigaravenue @aoi-turtle

[hailene]

Blood Red Running Hood

𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖜𝖔𝖑𝖋!𝖜𝖔𝖓𝖜𝖔𝖔, 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐.𝟑 𝐊

𝒹𝒶𝓇𝓀 𝒶𝓃𝑔𝓈𝓉| 𝓋𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝒶𝓊

The cold foggy morning was sending chills down your spine, the coldness reaching all the way to your flesh, to your bones. It was about to rain, you could tell. But nothing could stop you from going to your granny's house, in order to take care of her like you always said you would.

The thing is granny was dead.

You found her months ago, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth, sheets stained. You were horrified, not having seen anything like that before. But back then, a tiny little part of you sighed in relief. Granny was dead. The evil witch you had always been forced to take care of was now dead.

More than that, however, granny was murdered. And as you locked gazes with the murderer minutes after you found your grandmother dead, you body froze. You had heard about werewolves, you knew they existed, but the villagers had always tried their best to protect themselves from such creatures by going on patrols at night, killing anyone and anything that was out of the common. Your village was a small, simple gathering of poor houses. But it was tinted with so much sin and blood that it seemed like the village itself was cursed.

You had heard about werewolves. But you'd never believed you'd actually see one with your eyes. And more than that, you had never thought they would look so... human.

Probably, you would have never been able to tell the man sitting in front of you wasn't exactly human if it hadn't been for the steel-like glint in his eyes. And for the blood smearing at his lips.

For a moment, you were frozen, fear pumping through your veins and making it hard for you to breath. Then, you blacked out.

When you woke up, hours later, you thought you were in heaven. You were sure, absolutely sure that you were dead. But the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes were the steel-like eyes from earlier... except this time, they held some sort of warmth.

You looked around, realizing you were still at granny's, in her bed, with a new mattress, her lifeless body nowhere to be seen. The man sitting on the side of your bed smelled like rain, like mud, like the cold woods and the ashes in the chimney.

"I am Wonwoo," he said.

And you realized the smell was calming you down.

It's been a few months ever since then, a few months ever since you have started lying to everyone around you that you were taking good care of your beloved granny. When, in fact, you were obsessively visiting the small cottage just to meet Wonwoo. Again and again and again.

"What if they find out?" You remember yourself asking in fear one night, between two desperate kisses.

You remember him looking at you with so much love in his eyes that you could feel yourself melting, you remember wanting to pull him closer, closer... even though there was literally nothing between the two of you anymore, physically.

"Then I'll burn the whole damn village down," he answered before starting his hot work on you for the nth time that night.

Just to save you, you knew.

He was driving you insane.

Maybe that was why you couldn't help but come back to him. Again and again and again and...

When you enter the house, you find Wonwoo standing next to the hob, the delicious smell of food tingling your senses. You hum in delight as you close the door and take off your red hood, softly stepping towards the man. You hug him from behind and he lets the pots boil on the hob as he turns around to face you, kissing the top of your head gently. He smelled like rain, like mud, like fire and cold water. He smelled like home.

"I missed you, love," you hear him humming, filling you with warmth.

You haven't had a proper dinner in so long. You didn't have time for that, since you were always busy collecting the mail from the villagers and writing replies in the name of your beloved dead granny. She has always been seen as the wise woman, everybody was asking for advice from her. You knew everybody's secrets, you held way too much power for a little, young, unskillful witch.

But they didn't have to know that.

You occasionally told Laurette, your care-giver, that you'd stay over at your granny's. The woman was obviously glad that she wouldn't have to make sure she gives you any sort of dinner. You didn't quite stand her either. Ever since your parents passed and you and Kai, your younger brother, were given to Laurette to take care of you until you'd be able to take care of yourselves, your life had been a never-ending series of cloudy days. Kai used to be the only one able to cheer you up after a long, tiring day.

But now, Wonwoo could do much more.

A soft whimper escapes your lips as he goes down on you after the dinner, the dim light of the candles painting his skin in godly shades of gold. He was a murderer, an evil, a beast according to the villagers. That's why they didn't have to know about him, they didn't have to know about the two of you.

You had to admit that despite his humanly appearance, his werewolf features were showing sometimes, especially in bed. Sex with him was amazing. He was teasing, rough, but extremely good and even though you could have been scared of the extra-terrestrial strength of his choke-hold, you couldn't help but feel lured in towards him. You were obsessed.

"You should stop coming around for a few days, love," Wonwoo whispers after collapsing next to you.

You knew why. The full moon was coming.

He kisses you softly as you drift away to a sweet sleep. He was gone when you woke up the next morning.

When you returned home that day, you could feel that Laurette's gaze on you was different. Even if you didn't want to pay attention to it, the tiny drop of magic that was running through your veins was making it impossible for you to ignore it. It was almost like you could taste the fear in the atmosphere at home.

"What's wrong, Laurette?" You ask as she passes by your room with a heap of rags in her arms.

She looks at you for a few moments, as if she was surprised that you took notice of her behaviour. Then, she shakes her head, rushing towards the kitchen like she'd seen a ghost. You frown, unable to understand her behaviour. Did something happen while you were with Wonwoo last night? What could it be?

The answer, however, was about to be given to you in the form of Kai hastily waking you up the following night, incomprehensible cries and panicked whispers escaping his lips.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong, baby boy?" You ask while cupping his puffy cheeks, sleep still clouding your judgement.

"Fire, Y/N, they fire," your little brother cries.

You frown confused, rubbing your eyes to wake up.

"What fire, baby?" You ask as Kai starts crying harder. "What are you talking about?"

"They're coming, I've heard they want to burn the witch on a rug, Y/N!" He cries and your blood runs cold.

They can't possibly know, can they?

"Witch, baby boy? What witch?" You ask softly, trying your best to hide the panic.

"I-I think they were talking about y-..." he tries to say but you cover his mouth softly, your limbs already shaking.

"What else did you hear, baby?" You ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

"They w-went to granny's h-house," he cries softly. "One of them wa-was... killed by-"

You didn't need anything more than this.

You get up from your mattress and put some clothes on, helping Kai to dress up as well. You take your blood-red hood and put it on, kneeling next to your brother afterwards.

You could already hear loud voices outside.

"You go to the water wheel and hide there until I come to get you, okay?" You speak, holding him tightly. "If I don't come by dawn, you run and never come back here, okay?"

"B-But, Y/N–"

"Y/N loves you, baby boy, Y/N loves you so much," you whisper as tears come streaming down your face.

Kai starts sobbing too. It breaks you.

"Chin up, baby, okay?" You say, trying to get a hold of yourself. "Just have faith and trust Y/N."

Before your brother can say anything else, you jump out the window.

You run through the night, far away from the angry voices and fire torches. You run through the woods, mindlessly, only having one thought in your mind.

Wonwoo.

Was he okay? Did he kill yet another villager? You were aware of the fact that he was so far from being a saint and that it wasn't the first time he'd kill one of the people in your village, but that only made you love him more. You weren't much of a good character either.

As you reach the cottage in the woods, you realize it was vandalized. The few pieces of poor furniture were broken, pots, candles and papers thrown on the floor. The few remaining potions, herbs and spell books you had stored were all torn open, pulled out from the secret places you thought you had secured them in. It was all a mess, a bloody, ruthless mess and the deep animal scratches on the wall weren't making it any better.

No sign of Wonwoo.

As you look around more carefully, your blood runs cold. You shouldn't have come here.

It was a trap.

"The little witch is here," the man in front of you shouts and you here footsteps coming from the outside.

Before you can turn around and run away, more men enter the cottage, blocking your way, and panic rises from the pit of your stomach, your vision getting blurry. Seconds later, you feel something hard hitting your head from behind, letting you fall in a dark abyss.

Before you open your eyes, you feel warmth, heat. You feel fire. And as you open them, you realize why. Your body was tied to a wooden rug, surrounded by a circle of flames. It was hot, almost unbearably.

"The witch woke up! It's time to burn her back to hell!" You hear someone screaming.

Your eyes meet Laurette's figure and you feel your whole body filling with so much rage that you swore the flames around you started burning brighter. And then you see it, the whole village gathered around you in hateful circles, looking at you as if you killed their families. Maybe you did. But not intentionally.

Rocks and sticks were being thrown at you, curses and words spit in your direction, but nothing that your mind and body could cope with. Your time has arrived, you were getting the fate that you deserved, so now, you could only hope that your brother and your lover were going to be okay.

You are a witch after all. You are evil. And you have been too stupid, too careless to keep on living. You deserve to die. You deserve to be burnt on a rug.

As one of the villagers approaches you with a lit torch, you hear a freezing growl, not that far from where you were. Moments later, the fire surrounding you starts reflecting in different places. You think it's your mind going insane, you think it's your vision getting damaged by fear, by defeat, by the unnerving warmth the flames were attacking you with. But as you hear the growl getting louder and the panicked screams of the villagers running around, you realize something went wrong in their plan.

You can't help but laugh as the villager who was coming towards you starts running for his life, screaming as the grey wolf with fire in his eyes starts chasing him. You couldn't be afraid of the wolves. You couldn't be afraid of Wonwoo.

People slowly disappear, corpses taking their place, the fire slowly starting to take over the whole town. You were surrounded by a realm of flames and you felt like you were on fire yourself, but you were laughing like a maniac, unable to control yourself.

Your curses worked. This God-forsaken village was now burning to fucking ashes.

You feel something or someone untying your wrists and ankles from the wooden rug and as you turn to look next to you, you meet the steel-like gaze of the man you were so in love with. He picks you up from the torture place and rushes out of the fire, running and running until you can actually feel the cold night wind whipping your bare skin.

Wonwoo turns around to look once again at the burning village, the fire contrasting with the dark night in such a sinfully-pleasing way. You adored that.

"It's finally gone," he whispers, your mouth watering at his hoarse voice.

I'll burn the whole damn village down, you remember.

You pull him by his torn shirt and he looks at you, warmth shining in his eyes brighter than that goddamn fire. You kiss him hungrily, tasting the smoke, the blood and the mud on his lips. It was all sweeter than honey, more addicting than any sort of herb you've seen before. This was Wonwoo, the forbidden taste you have always, always been longing for. Now you had it. And in the devil's name, you regretted absolutely nothing.

"The water wheel," you choke out as you pull away, your lips swollen, tinted with blood. "We have to find Kai at the water wheel."

[mashup-writing]

If only you were here; Hwang Yeji (ITZY)

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Summary: Yeji was the leader, she couldn't afford to be seen being anything less than perfect for the role. No crying, being sad, or feeling any kind of negativity. But she's only human, and being human means letting your emotions run through you.

Requested? ☒

"Miles away from seeing you."

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She was exhausted. Today's schedule was nothing but hectic, from interviews to filming for music videos. All Yeji had wanted to do was be with her girlfriend, to have her take away the stress, to run her fingers through her hair, to hold her like doing so was the only thing keeping her together. But with Y/N visiting her hometown? The best she could do was a facetime.

She loved her job, her members, and their MIDZYs. She really does. But sometimes the high life takes more from you than it gives. Lately her girls have been facing prejudiced hate from a bunch of ruthless people online. Lia was being branded as "Lazy" and it made the leader's blood boil, among all five of them Lia was the one who spends the most time in the practice room, especially when she has trouble with some of the choreography. She remembers a memory of theirs that included Lia almost passing out of exhaustion in the practice room, Yeji herself wasn't enough to pull the pale and sluggish girl out of there. If Yuna's maturity and hidden stern-ness hadn't reared their heads then she has no doubt that Lia would've ended up in a hospital bed.

Chaeryeong is under fire for "Being Ugly" and all Yeji could do was scoff at the stupidity of the false accusation. Despite Yeji being Y/N's girlfriend, Chaeryeong was the latter's bias. This information had her shocked, Chaeryeong smug, and worst of all: It gave Ryujin a field day. Which resulted in getting the other three members in on teasing her. "Anyone who catches Y/N's eye is fucking beautiful" she mutters to herself. Not to toot her own horn but Y/N has an eye not only for gorgeous looking people, most times those she ends up liking are great people with great personalities. Your ex, Ahn Hyejin of Mamamoo is a damn great example of that.

Another one of her members under fire is Yuna, the baby of their new little family. Knets had a field day when it was found out that the Maknae wasn't originally planned to become a part of ITZY. Jumping on the chance to poke at the youngest's insecurity, thry took to saying that she wasn't good enough to be with them, much less have debuted at all. That's bullshit, and she won't leave room for argument. Yuna is the glue that holds them together, the friend that they can't imagine not having even when they've been a group for less than a year. She stands up to Yeji without being disrespectful when the leader is being too strict or controlling. She pulls Lia out of her workaholic state whenever it starts to become detrimental instead of beneficial. She is the one carrying Ryujin's ass whenever the latter thinks her dad jokes are funny. She's the one to calm Chaeryeong down backstage whenever the latter is feeling nervous, anxious or on the verge of a breakdown.

Ryujin's a reliable friend through and through, but if the fate of the world was decided by the rapper's ability to tell a funny joke? Yeji bets that they all would've died ages ago, she's better at joking around with actions than she is with words. Which leads to some people labeling some of Ryujin's actions as "Bullying". Yeji admits to herself that, yes. To the untrained eye it does seem as if Ryujin's the type, she has the face of a villain when she wants to look intimidating after all. But the rapper is also the softest person she has ever known in her life, testified by the one time they had a pillow fight in the dorm. In the heat of the moment, Ryujin's slipper got thrown and it knocked a Lizard dead off their wall. The pillow fight abruptly ended with four members trying to make her feel less guilty over the critter's untimely death.

Lia interjected that had the moment been captured on camera, some MIDZYs would be making a meme of how they'd like to be that "Lucky" lizard. Ryujin cried harder, because the lizard was not at all "Lucky" in her opinion.

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Yeji was so lost in her own thoughts and so fatigued that she didn't even realize that she had finished changing from her performance outfit to the clothes she wore before clocking in for work. It was only when she had closed the door to her dorm room did she realize how tired she actually was. She was thankful she had been given her own room instead of bunking with someone else again, she's not too sure she could make it up in a bunk bed if she was still roommates with someone.

She crashes onto the bed and pulls out her phone. Most days she would get some shut eye and just facetime her girlfriend in the morning, but at the moment she thinks she'll end up in a mental ward if she goes another second without hearing her Y/N speak. So despite the fact that she can't feel her legs anymore and that her eyelids are growing heavier by the second, she calls.

Ring

Ring

Ring

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Ring

Ring

Ring

You're pulled from the coziest and most comfortable sleep you've fallen into for the night by a constant ringing. You rub your eyes and turn towards your nightstand where your phone is located. "Who in their right fucking mind would be calling at this hour?" You grab your phone and the caller photo snaps you out of your mood before you even see the caller's name.

You hurriedly turn on your lamp on the nightstand and then proceeded to hit answer. "YEJ- whoa, not that I'm unhappy to see you but you look like you should be asleep instead. You look tired as hell Yej. Did you eat yet? How about water? Please stay away from dehydration and be sure to drink regularly." Yeji smiles at you, with her eyes drooping every now and then. "Yeah, I should be asleep but I just missed you so much I couldn't sleep without seeing you first."

You sit up and lean against the head board instead of laying down, your worry increasing tenfold. "What's wrong?" Yeji knows how to prioritize her health first and she never calls you half asleep because she had always claimed that you deserved nothing less than her full attention. She never calls you half asleep unless she's alarmingly close to losing her composure. Her eyes widen as soon as the question leaves your mouth, and a sniffle makes its way through the line. She burried her face in her arm and struggles with wanting to tell you and wanting to fake being strong with you.

You sense the dilemma within your girl and you refuse to let her carry this alone. "Hey, I'd never force you to spill. But I am always gonna be here to listen to your troubles. I already know how strong you are, you've got nothing more to prove. Let it out and I'll be here to support you." Yeji's resolve crumbles and she cries as she tells you everything that's been weighing her down today. She cries because of the unfairness of it all, she cries about how she can't protect her girls, she cries about how she wants nothing more than to wrap them up in a hug and not let go until they're all better but the girls just like their leader want to seem strong and untouchable for each other.

Yeji cries about how she wishes she was with you instead of working, she cries about how guilty she feels for sometimes wishing that they never had to go through the unfairness that the idol life had to offer, she cries about how she feels like she's disappointing the MIDZYs for feeling as she feels. She cries because it's just the start of their journey and she's already so tired. She cries because it's the only way she knows how to get rid of the stress, even if it's just a temporary solution.

What hurts you the most is that she doesn't look at you as she says this. You're a MIDZY after being Yeji's girlfriend and it you don't miss the way she chokes up even more when she said she feels like she's disappointing the fandom. You let your girlfriend let it all out before taking a moment to pull yourself together, and then you speak.

"I can't and I won't tell you that I understand how you feel as an Idol because I'm not one. But as a MIDZY, I can and I will tell you that you were born to be the leader of ITZY, no one else could step up to that role as well as you do even if they tried. Tell the girls I told you to let the haters run their mouths, because we MIDZYs know that each and every one of you brings something special to the table. ITZY isn't ITZY if it doesn't have Hwang Yeji, Choi Jisu, Shin Ryujin, Lee Chaeryeong and Shin Yuna as the members. You girls are a fucking unit and you are all strong enough to knock those bitches speechless."

You stare at Yeji the whole time and notice that although her body has stopped shaking, her tears are still making their way down her cheeks. You take in every detail of her face and wish with everything within you that you were there with her to wipe her tears and hold her close. In your opinion, words aren't enough but you suppose due to the distance between you two that you've gotta work with what you have at the moment. Right now all you have are feelings and words.

"Now as your girlfriend." Yeji's head adjusts enough that you could see half of her face, but the other half still remains buried in her arm. "I'm telling you that you can never disappoint me." She chuckles in humor before turning her gaze away from her phone. "You don't know that, I'm not perfect-"

"I never said you were."

Silence sits between the two of you. Not once in your whole relationship had you intentionally interrupted Yeji when she was speaking, you strongly believed that everyone deserved a chance to speak their piece. But that had exceptions. Such as now. "I never said you were perfect, because you're not. You're human and you have your flaws but believe me when I say that you could never disappoint me, despite the fact that humans weren't designed to be perfect you still work on yourself everyday trying to polish all the rough edges, trying to better yourself not for anyone or anything but yourself because you really want to be better than you were in the past. How could I be disappointed in someone as noble as that?"

You notice that she's now actively fighting to keep her eyes open and you smile. "You okay for now?" She nods and you continue. "Then go to sleep, God knows you both need and deserve a good night's rest. I'll call you back tomorrow when you wake up, so you can tell me about everything else your sleep addled brain forgot to tell me tonight."

Yeji uncovers the other half of her face and eyes stare at her screen that shows your face, now more than ever she wishes she was there with you, to thank you and hold you for everything you've said and for the way you've calmed her down. She promises herself that once you meet back up in person, she'll make it up to you. But for now words will have to do.

"Thank you Y/N. I love you."

Your smile grows wider and Yeji swears she's ready to make a fool out of herself just to ensure that that smile never fades away from your face. You take your a moment to memorize the candid details of Yeji's face before replying. "I love you too Yeji. Good night." Both of you wave goodbye and as heavy of an action it was, you take the initiative to end the call because you know that if you left it up to your girlfriend she would never hit that End Call button.

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Yeji places her phone on the nightstand by her bed.

Y/N lies back down properly on the bed.

The two stare straight ahead of them, eyes unfocused.

They take a deep breath before closing their eyes, ignoring the need that courses through their hearts.

"I'll be with her soon enough."

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A/N: I think this is the longest fic I've written on this app? Why the hell is there too little ITZY content on this app? it feels like drought istg 😭😭

[border-spam]

Leech Lord: Saints and Sinners

(mid COV era)

Seifa likes Ven, and that's a real problem for her because it's not the easily manageable kind of like that she's forced herself to utilise over the years. She normally likes people the same way Skags like the smell of day-old roadkill.

Someone who's company you trust and wit you prefer over the other options available for the night, that's an easy like, that's the kind of "friendship" she's tended to propagate for a long time now. Ones that don't need a huge amount of yourself. The kind that last years but don't cut into the meat of your secrets, those are the norm for her. Those are fine.

She likes Ven in a way that makes things harder, 'cause Seifa cares about him, and caring? That's tough. She's not very fucking good at caring about others.

Sei spent years avoiding caring in general, and now she's found herself leading a life where she's practically drowning in worry and fear for people she ended up loving anyway. Deep down she should have known that would happen eventually, the joke's always on her in the end - and it's normally Seifa who sets up the punchline.

Hurting Ven? It matters now, because she let herself care enough that his wellbeing spills over into her own. Him and Jak-Knife, Troy, Eli, the phantom of what she can recall Tyreen Calypso once being before an unknown vileness warped that brilliant smile into something vicious, they all hold a little place inside Sei's heart now, and she can't quite tell if she's pissed with herself for letting it happen, or frightened by how empty it had been in the first place.

Saying the wrong stupid thing as a stupid joke because you were too dumb to read the room right, that matters now, and for all her sharpness she knows damn well that putting her foot in her mouth has been a life long speciality of hers. Still, she makes sure to apologise for it every time, even if it's in one of the frankly weird ways she prefers.

Easier to have a litttttle bit too much to drink in one of the louder clubs before you gut yourself in genuine empathy to a friend, even easier if they are a tad wobbly too, and she's always been able to count on the man to throw a good wobble when she needs the company.

Squashed together like Rakklings in a cordoned off ViP area as the shitty bass music half muffles out her words, arm slung around his shoulder (sloshing gold flakes and vodka over the beautiful coat he's wearing) as she half yells half whispers that she's sorry about earlier - about what she said bout trading him for some junk? Was meant to be a joke, she'd only say that because she'd never do it, because he's so valuable to her, yeah? Still, she saw the reaction, saw the hurt - sorry man, won't happen again. Next round's on her, right? Right.

Easier to wrap it in a fun night out with envious glances and some flashing neon than go face to face - that's not worked out that well for her in the past. She doesn't really know how to be genuine without maybe showing a little too much of her inner vulnerability, and thing's didn't go right last time she tried. Genuine regret and an honest reminder of how much the person meant to her mixed badly, was misread as something else, and their heart had gotten broken despite her intent being to patch a wound in the first place.

Still, she trusts him. Figures that wouldn't happen, or it's unlikely, but it would be her fault if it did anyway, just like it had been before. Seems she only has her Seifa façade and the sad thing hiding under it to show people, one or the other without the security of something in between.

She knows she should probably work on a middle ground but... who has the time. She's a busy woman.

His reaction when she'd said it had twigged her in on something obvious though, that pang of sharp hurt that wiped the easy grin off his face and replaced it with something practiced and cold had hit a weak point she hadn't known about. Something about his past maybe, or how he'd valued himself.

Close as they were, squashed side by side and chuckling under breath that could blow the place if any of the horde of worshippers pulsating around their booth lit a match, Ven was in many ways still an enigma. His secrets were wrapped in layers of open friendship, he hid them under truths and insecurities they'd spent so many evenings sharing with his brother and Jak-Knife, or even their moody boy-king on long nights in his Sanctum.

She knew he'd tell her in his own time if that was something he was ever going to consider, but she also knew that she was an impossibly nosy little shit who wouldn't be able to let it go now that she had an inkling... and Troy had been NO help.

When Calypso wasn't intentionally wrapping himself around her finger and expertly hiding how much he enjoyed every second of it, Troy could be... surprising.

It's rare he says no to her and means it, but when he really does, he's fucking clear. There's a snap in the air as his voice silences it - a shift.

You don't keep pushing, something in your brain stem sends a warning with a finality that shivers the roots of your molars and shuts you up.

Troy is normally a pliant man. He likes being easy to manipulate, especially by women. She's known him long enough to catch that little "interest" of his, but when he's serious? You don't push back, so she stopped asking him to gossip secrets about Ven's history the very first time he denied her so clearly.

She might be underselling herself by saying her hunt for his past is purely out of curiosity, being nosy is only a part of it. In reality?

She doesn't want to hurt her friend again.

The realisation an in-joke, or a snarky comment, or any of the other myriad of shitty little communication tricks she employs could actually target somewhere already bleeding through his armour was upsetting.

That's something to celebrate when it's intended, but accidentally slipping a verbal shank into a friend's ribs isn't the win it is with a competitor, and she'd rather that not happen again, so she tries to heal it her way - reminds him over and over on nights like these how great a man he is.

She makes a scene in public so no one can deny the truth of it. A raised toast to The Oracle, sight of the Holy Twins, and a drunken speech to the club goers about how much he means to the Saints, how valuable he is to her.

She wears the trinkets he's gifted her whenever she can, returns the gestures of kindness with shoddily crafted wire figures, or quick repairs of any of his tech she notices could do with a tune-up.

Loops an arm through his and drags him through crowds for a chance at better seating while slumming, because don't they know who he is??

She'll tell them.

She knows, and she'll make sure everyone around them does too.

The Holy City is full of Saints, and Sinners.

A handful are both.

Ven belongs to @hieroglyphix and JK to @godkingsanointed

[red-the-dragon-writes]

Today's post is not on the usual "writer blog fare" side. Instead I am going to introduce you to several fun facts about various animals on our planet and then talk about worldbuilding.

1. Lampreys are a kind of "living fossil"- a not-really-so-scientific term for a creature that has lived unchanged for a very long time, so long that we have fossils of them looking the same way they do now. They don't have proper jaws, just a circular sucking mouth with teeth set into it and a tongue designed to strip flesh off of what it touches. They're finless fish, look quite a bit like eels, and have this really alien, uncanny vibe to them.

[id: a long, slender bluish-silver lamprey sitting among rocks. It has a long snout, an eye, and then six small perforations in its side arranged at an even interval sitting behind the eye. The environment it is sitting in is very yellow and green in comparison. end id]

[id: an image of a lamprey from below. The snout ends in a round, flat mouth which is studded with teeth in four concentric circles. The teeth are smallest near the outer edge and largest in the middle, and look like very sharp round points. In the center of this ring is another, smaller circle, where the pointed, tooth-like tongue can be seen, as well as a hole for the lamprey to actually ingest food with. Its eye is visible, as are some of the perforations on its side. This one is a more mottled gray than the first one was, and less shiny. end id]

Sea lampreys, which are the kind i've sort of not really kinda researched, are a major pest in the Great Lakes, where they regularly attack fish. They can get up to two feet in length. Despite this, they are not particularly dangerous towards humans.

2. Horseshoe crabs are also "living fossils." They've been around and virtually unchanged for millions of years. They're not true crabs, and are more closely related to chelicerata species, like spiders and scorpions (and many more). There are a lot of cool features of horseshoe crabs, but one of their most extremely cool, to me, is their blood.

I'm not going to post any images of what I consider to be animal cruelty, so you'll have to take me at my word here, but this is a bottle of horseshoe crab blood. If you're sensitive to images of animal cruelty, I don't recommend looking for proof, but if you aren't, there are plenty of images of the blood coming out of the creature for you to verify this with.

E[id: a bottle of slightly frothy, opaque blue liquid. It is sitting in a row with several other bottles of the same material. end id]

I am a sucker for blue blood, I just think it's neat, so that's all I'd need as an excuse to slam some horseshoe-crab-inspired nonsense in my exceptionally gory and fucked up wips, and if you've been reading along with WiB you may have noticed that blue blood does come into play at some point! But that's not all that's neat about horseshoe crab blood. Unfortunately for the horseshoe crabs, but fortunately for us, their blood is literally the only source of an important compound used for detecting the presence of dangerous bacteria in certain pharmaceutical drugs. (Fortunately, there are replacements that will hopefully become more popular in coming years.)

Now that we've gone over all that, onto the worldbuilding!

I worldbuild by Rule of Cool. Let's just get that out of the way. Every so often people will ask me how my worlds get so expansive (not WiB, WiB i made up on the fly by cribbing from fanfic and like... BBC Merlin. Assume very little of this holds true for WiB) and the answer is largely that I take every interest I have ever had in anything and smash it all together and throw it at my wip to see what sticks. and then I just... like... reasonably attempt to figure out what the natural conclusions will be.

So: we have lampreys. We have blue-blooded ancient sea creatures with spectacularly important and valueable blood. We are writing this into a story that takes place on land, somehow.

- The first option, and the one I'm going to talk about most because I did it, is just to rule-of-cool it into a character. (Or a place, or an item, or whatever, but largely I do rule-of-cool on living creatures and think harder about the world around them.) If you've been keeping up with WiB, you may have noticed that (spoilers) Zero Point is some kind of fucked up magician with a lamprey mouth in their hand who shapeshifts and bleeds blue. This is where I got those inspirations from (along with, like, some other stuff. I promise there are no lamprey assassins, but- continuing in the trend of stealing from sea creatures- the bobbin worm is a spectacularly beautiful, spectacularly deadly creature if you're within its weight range. which is like, goldfish size, but. And cuttlefish are known to disguise themselves as other animals, and can change sexes if the male:female ratio where they are isn't ideal.)

So you can take the elements you like, and just kind of slam them together haphazardly, which is what I did with Zero Point. The trick to this kind of worldbuilding is just to avoid looking too closely at it. The magical assassin has a fucked up mouth in their hand? Yeah, okay, that seems kind of fucked up and creepy. What do they do at all times? They hide it under a glove. So the protags Just Straight Up Never Ask. And voila; it never gets explained, and it never has to.

Same with the blue blood. It shows up, it functions as a plot device because only Zero Point has blue blood; it is never explained or even delved into with much detail. And if it were, it would fall apart instantly, because the justification is literally just "i thought it was neat. No, no one else is like that. I don't even know why they are. i just felt like it"

- The second option is to consider the effects of the things that you're working with, and then work off of that.

Let's take Zero Point again. Strip them of their context (weird assassin with magical powers) and just like, consider the fact that this is a creature with blood that regularly retails for over $10,000 USD, is intelligent as fuck, shapeshifts, has a mouth in their hand that may or may not be their actual mouth, and can exist on land so long as they have suitable access to water. What does that mean for our setting? Surely they're not the only person like that; so you have a whole species of people who are sort of but not really amphibious, shapeshift, and maybe have magical powers, who knows. They can't shapeshift their fucked up lamprey mouths, maybe. That seems like a reasonable limit. So their blood is highly valuable- what does that mean for their relations with other people, or their culture? What kind of foods do they eat? How do they create a sense of culture as shapeshifters; is there even a way that they represent themselves in art? How do they interact with the world? Do they have a "true form" or not? Every one of these questions will spawn new questions. If you answer all of them you'll lose your mind, but if you answer at least ten you'll spawn a much more background-heavy world that can help to shape your story much more effectively than trying to just craft a narrative will. Sometimes it works very well for a story. Sometimes it gets you lost in the weeds.

- The third option is to reference something else, and build off that. Again, let's use Zero Point as the example.

In the original story that the WiB ensemble is from, Closerverse, which may have some mentions on this blog but honestly I have no idea, there is a city that I've done quite a bit of worldbuilding on. This city is called Hudson, and one of the major important features of it is that it is partially underground. (This is a reference to the DFZ of Rachel Aaron's Heartstrikers series). Hudson is intentionally run to be the worst, most unpleasant city in the world, and one of its features are its wildly intelligent, dangerous forms of aquatic life. The lowest level of this city is partially submerged, and all of these creatures plague the people who live down there.

Closerverse was also set during a period of early industrialization, and Hudson heavily referenced US history, especially 1900s-1920s labor history. Tenements, pollution, zero protections for workers, et cetera. Hudson is a nasty, miserable place, and everyone who lives there can feel the jaws closing in on them.

Anyway, in Closerverse you got these fucked up massive eel-like creatures (lampreys, but with extra features) that due to some rather significant meddling wound up growing legs and then got really massive and started eating people. They have blue blood, glow in the dark, and make fairly decent eating as long as they aren't eating you. And they're intelligent. Given the whole "mutual eating each other" thing, the eels and the people of Hudson have some pretty major animosity going on.

Most of Zero Point's stuff is really just me referencing the Hudson Eels, because I fucking love those. They're some of my favorite worldbuilding elements ever. But given that no one else in WiB has ever seen a Hudson Eel, let alone seen their blood get dry on things, or whatever, everything about Zero Point is wildly out of context. And that almost makes it better, because the whole deal with them is that they're mysterious and weird, and having them be a mysterious and weird reference to something no one but I know about most likely is like, fun and neat.

There are, of course, other modes of worldbuilding as well, but I typically aim to stick to the first two as much as possible. The cooler you make something, the more possible questions it raises; the more questions something raises, the deeper your world gets.

Although, a word of advice: sometimes animals just do things. Sometimes bodies just have features. Who would invent fingernails? But having them is mighty convenient, isn't it? For that matter, who would come up with a deeply logical and reasoned explanation for eyebrows- but not having those would be very strange, to us. You can get away with doing a lot by just having that be how it is, and not having the characters comment on it.

Also, the more "shaped" a thing should be, the more you'll want to take the second approach. For house design, something intentionally built, you'll want to know why it was built, and what purpose is this and that room, and why is it painted such and such colors. But if you're talking about adding a second moon, like... fuck dude, who needs to know why there's a second moon? Maybe if you have sailors you have to know what it'll do to your oceans, but that's the kind of thing you can kind of just say exists and move on. You'll figure it out; it gets pretty intuitive.

Anyway, happy worldbuilding!

[inkedstarlight]

Bittersweet: Chapter Nine

Summary: Cassian and Nesta finally meet. Officially, this time. Let the romance commence. Notes: Read it here on AO3! Warnings: very brief/non-explicit mention of sexual assault Bittersweet Masterlist

“Earth to Nesta?”

Nesta snapped from her trance to see Emerie waving a hand in front of her face.

“You’ve been cleaning the same spot for a good ten minutes,” Emerie gestured to where Nesta was scrubbing the counter with a towel. It was squeaky clean.

Nesta let go of the towel and cleared her throat. “My bad.”

Emerie pulled out the chair on the other side of the counter and sat down. It was eleven in the evening on a Monday, and they had just closed. The only other person in Rita’s was Lucien, and he was doing dishes in the back.

“You’ve been acting weird for the past two weeks,” Emerie stated blatantly. Her stare was unwavering. “And you’ve lost at least ten pounds.”

The incidence with Tomas happened two weeks ago. Nesta was doing a pretty good job of moving on with her life all things considered. She felt like shit, but she hadn’t missed a single shift at work. That had to count for something.

But she should’ve known Emerie would notice. She was like a fucking hawk, that girl. She saw everything.

When Nesta didn’t say anything, Emerie shrugged and got up from the stool. “At least try a little harder,” she said, referring to the coworkers’ challenge to get the most tips. She shot Nesta a sad look. “Thesan is beating you. Thesan.”

Nesta mustered a laugh. Thesan wasn’t great with customers, that was common knowledge. Neither Emerie nor Nesta were people persons, but they knew how to turn it on for customers. Thesan, on the other hand, didn’t make much of an effort. It wasn’t that he was intentionally rude, the guy was just quiet in nature. In fact, he was quite a sweetheart.

Which was why it was quite entertaining to watch Thesan and Helion interact. Where Thesan was an introvert, Helion was loud as hell. Not to mention it was clear that Thesan was crushing on him. But unfortunately, Helion flirted with every living, breathing thing and was thus completely oblivious. During Nesta’s first week at Rita’s, Emerie had spilled all the tea about their coworkers. Thesan was head over heels in love with Helion, Helion had never been in a monogamous relationship, and Viviane… well, Viviane had her own little love story. A complicated one at that.

His name was Kallias. They grew up together, from scheming little kids to rebellious teenagers to young adults. Best friends since they could remember.

Because Emerie grew up in the same small town as them, she knew everything. They all went to school together. She knew that Kallias had been in love with Viviane since freshman year of high school. She knew that Viviane felt the same way, but she would never admit it thanks to the hell she was put through during her childhood. Nesta didn’t know the specifics, and she never asked.

It also didn’t help that Viviane was in a relationship with someone else. They’d been together for almost two years. Emerie thought Viviane deserved better, that he wasn’t a very good person.

Anyway, Kallias visited Rita’s nearly every weekend after his shift at the fire station to grab a drink and more importantly, see Viviane.

Nesta thought it was ridiculous. She’d told Emerie as much when she’d brought Nesta up to date on their coworkers’ lives. Why wouldn’t they just admit they loved each other and get on with it already? It was pretty fucking simple; they were just making it complicated for themselves. Emerie wholeheartedly agreed and the pair then went on an hour long rant on the idiocy of romantic relationships.

And if she was being honest, Nesta didn’t care much about these people. Sure, they were respectable but they were a temporary fixture in her life. Once she secured a job in her career field, she was going to leave them all behind.

“We should get a drink sometime. Outside of work,” Emerie clarified with a look of disgust. “I’m sick of it here.”

Nesta knew that was a lie based on the relationship Emerie had with Rita and her wife. But she didn’t say that.

“Maybe,” Nesta responded distractedly, desperate to think of an excuse. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Emerie; no, Nesta liked her coworker. She just couldn’t muster the energy to go out with friends or socialize like that. “I’m pretty busy right now though.”

Emerie narrowed her eyes and scrutinized her.

“Stop analyzing me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Emerie sighed and receded. She hesitated before saying quietly, “Is… is this the part when I ask if you’re okay and we get all deep and explore a new level of our friendship?”

Nesta slowly met her friend’s gaze. They stared at one another for several moments.

Then, they burst out laughing.

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

The next morning, Nesta was brewing her third cup of coffee when Elain padded into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Elain yawned as a greeting. She wore bunny slippers and an oversized hoodie. Elain only had one evening class on Tuesdays, so today was her only day - save for the weekend - to sleep in.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“How long have you been up?”

Nesta glanced at the clock. It was nine-thirty. She’d woken up at six after a sleepless night of tossing and turning.

But she simply shrugged instead. “Not long.”

Nesta poured the coffee into her mug, sitting back down at the counter. She watched as Elain bustled around the kitchen, scrambling eggs and slicing fruit. The morning light spilled through the dusty kitchen sink window, bars of sunshine reflecting off the tiled floors. Iroh basked in the sunspots, his black fur glistening as his chartreuse eyes blinked closed.

Elain and Nesta hadn’t spent much time together in the past couple weeks. It was Nesta’s doing, of course. She was actively avoiding her sister and everyone else. After Elain had tried to talk to Nesta after the whole thing with Tomas, she stopped asking Nesta if she was okay. Nesta assumed that Elain realized she wasn’t going to get an answer, that there wasn't really a point in trying.

But Gods, Nesta fucking missed her. And even though she wanted nothing more than to retreat to her bedroom as she sat there in the kitchen, she didn’t move from the chair.

You need them as much as they need you, her father’s voice echoed in her head.

Guilt stabbed at her chest.

“How’re classes going?” Nesta asked quietly. Elain looked at her over her shoulder with a surprised yet pleasant smile.

“Great! I’m so grateful to be at such a great college, but…” Elain bit her lip, hesitating. “My bio lab is going to be the death of me."

“You know you’re allowed to complain, right?”

Elain just gave her a smile. “Yeah, I know. It's just, considering where I was a year ago, I couldn't be happier to finally be enrolled in such a prestigious program. Even if that means the classes are brutal."

I wish I was like you. I take everything for granted.

“And have you made any friends?”

Elain had started school at Pryth U months ago and yet Nesta had no idea if she even had friends yet.

Selfish bitch.

A fond smile broke out on Elain’s face. “Yes, I have this really great group of friends: Lucien, Ressina, and Varian. It's just the four of us, but we've gotten really close.”

Nesta asked Elain more questions before excusing herself back to her room, claiming she was going to try to write today, to which Elain squealed and wished her luck.

Nesta hadn't written since their dad died. Prior to his death, she would write nearly every day. She'd been working on a novel for years. The plot had came to her in middle school, and it just grew from there. She'd never told anyone about it. Everyone knows how fucking hard it is to get your writing published, much less get high ratings. Nesta wasn't even sure if she was going to finish it. This was the longest she'd gone without writing or editing it. And she had a feeling that she wouldn't ever go back to it.

Dread filled her stomach as she thought of that prospect. What the fuck was she doing with her life?

Nesta’s phone buzzed, and she fished it out of her back pocket.

 Incoming call from Feyre Archeron.

It kept buzzing, Nesta merely stared at her sister's name on her screen. She couldn't think of a single reason why Feyre would be calling. But she pressed "Accept" before it could go to voicemail.

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

Silence.

“Uh, what’s up?” Nesta asked. She collapsed onto her unmade bed. Iroh scampered past the door and jumped on the bed with her. He didn't waste a minute curling himself around her head.

"I was calling to see… maybe, I don’t know… uh, would you want to come to dinner tonight?”

I was not expecting that. And Nesta was about 95% sure this was Elain’s doing.

“Why?”

“I want you there," Feyre told her as if it were obvious.

“Why?” Nesta asked again. She hadn't seen Feyre since Thanksgiving despite her sister living just on the outskirts of the city.

That had been weeks ago.

“It's complicated," Feyre responded quietly. She seemed to pause before finding the words. "I've been so worried about Cassian, we all have. He'd never been deployed for that long - five months. It was scary. I guess I took that out on you. I don't know why..."

She drifted off. Nesta held her breath.

"I'm sure Elain told you, but he's home now. I've been more myself since he returned, and I want you to come to dinner. I… miss you.”

She rubbed her temple. “I don’t know, Feyre.”

I don't know if I can pretend to be okay for an entire night. I don't know if you even fucking want me there or if you just feel obligated. I don't know if I can be in the same room as your douchebag boyfriend. I don't know if I can be surrounded by your friends, most of whom seem to dislike me. I don't know if I can behave like a normal fucking person.

I don't know.

“Please?” The plea was soft, quiet. It was like she was almost desperate. But for what?

Nesta looked out the window where a blue jay - their dad's favorite bird - was perched on a bare tree branch. The leaves had long ago fallen, leaving the world naked and vulnerable. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

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

Feyre embraced her with an awkward hug when Nesta and Elain walked into the house. Nesta patted her on the back lightly, uncomfortable with the physical touch. Luckily, no one else seemed incline to embrace her. Rhys actually seemed to make sure he was as far away as possible.

Elain, on the other hand, gave everyone a hug. Mor gave a laugh as she squeezed Elain back, Aurra watching them with a smile. Interestingly enough, when Elain greeted Azriel with a hug, his tanned cheeks glowed red. It was almost imperceptible, but Nesta noticed.

Feyre took a step back to assess her. Nesta could see the judgement in her sister's eyes as she took in Nesta's noticeably thinner body. Luckily, however, she wasn't given the chance to comment on it when Elain piped up, "Where's Cassian? Nesta still hasn't met him yet."

"He's running a bit late," Rhys answered, glancing down at his phone. "Should be here in about ten minutes."

Everyone began to make their way into the dining room and Nesta followed. However, she was quickly tugged to the side when Amren swooped in out of nowhere and basically dragged Nesta into the privacy of the hallway. She stopped, crossed her arms over her chest, and glared at Nesta.

“Where have you been?” Amren demanded.

"What do you mean?" Nesta asked, playing dumb.

She hadn't spoken to Amren in a long time, even though they had each others' numbers. Even though Amren had repeatedly texted her, asking to get coffee or go for a walk or something else of the sorts. All of which went unanswered.

Amren rolled her eyes, and Nesta was convinced they went to the back of her head for a good minute. "Don't play dumb with me, Nesta."

“I don’t know, working?"

"Is that a question?" Amren rose a deadly brow.

Nesta huffed and mirrored Amren's angry stance. "Why are you interrogating me?"

“Because you've been radio silent for weeks. I had to ask Elain if you were still fucking alive," Amren explained. Then, she leaned in close like she didn't want anyone to hear. "I was worried about you, you bitch."

Nesta let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, okay? I've been busy. I do want to hang out, it's just that..." she trailed off.

"What? It's just that what?"

Nesta stared at the floor, unable to form words.

"Nesta, are you okay?" Amren asked, her voice softer.

Just tell her. Fucking tell her.

I was almost raped.

Just the thought was enough to make Nesta want to puke. She couldn't, it was too much and she wouldn't even be able to fucking say it and it's her fault, all her fault.

She breathed in through her nose and looked back up at Amren. She shot her the most fake smile she'd ever given. "I'm good. Seriously, I just got busy. It won't happen again."

Nesta saw the skepticism in Amren's eyes. But she conceded with a small sigh. "Well, don't do it again, okay? I seriously thought you were fucking murdered or some shit."

Nesta just nodded. Amren looked at her once more before gesturing with her chin back to the dining room. Nesta followed her.

When they rounded the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Because sitting next to Feyre was the man who had tried to break into her apartment.

“Nesta!" Feyre exclaimed, calling her over from where she sat. "This is Cassian. Cassian, this is my sister, Nesta.”

Nesta simply stared at him like a deer in headlights and he stared at her, his lips parted in surprise. He was wearing a grey sweater, his long hair hanging down, no longer in a bun like it was the last time. He tucked it behind one ear.

"Are you stalking me or something?" Nesta said incredulously.

"I could ask you the same," Cassian retorted cheekily.

Feyre looked between them, a confused expression written on her face. "Do you guys know each other or something?"

"Something like that," Nesta mumbled.

Everyone's eyes were on them as they waited for an answer.

"Well as everyone knows, I live in the same building as Nesta and Elain," Cassian explained, waving a hand to the two sisters. "The other night, I got stupid drunk with a friend. He drove me back to my place and me, drunk off my fucking ass, tried to get into their apartment thinking it was mine."

The entire room erupted into laughter, Rhys choking on his food and Azriel looking up as if reasoning with the Gods.

"So when Nesta opened the door," Cassian continued, "she nearly beat me to death with a baseball bat."

Another round of laughter.

"Overreact much?"

Everyone's eyes flew to where Nesta sat. They seemed shocked. Nesta was too.

She didn't know why she said it, why she let it bother her. He was just so fucking frustrating, even his mere presence.

Cassian stuck his tongue out at her.

Feyre interrupted, her jaw agape. "You guys are acting like children."

Nesta got quiet after that. The conversation continued, thankfully taking the attention off her. As everyone laughed and conversed, Cassian looked over at her. His smile disappeared when he met Nesta's gaze. She just stared back at him, lips in a thin line. He seemed to try to gauge her reaction carefully, but her face was blank.

And so the night went on. Nesta didn't say another word after what happened. She avoided eye contact with Cassian. Avoided conversation with everyone.

It was half past eight when they all began clearing their dishes. Mor, Aurra, Azriel, and Cassian were all gathered in the kitchen cleaning up. Feyre and Rhys had excused themselves. It was just Nesta and Elain who remained in the dining room.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Nesta leaned over to whisper to Elain.

Elain nodded. "We'll head out right after, yeah?" She must've noticed the exhaustion in Nesta's face.

Nesta agreed, excusing herself from the table.

She walked down the hallway, peeking through every door to find the bathroom. She was about to push through a door on the left that was slightly cracked open when she heard voices coming from within.

“I’m worried about him. He’s not the same.” It was Feyre.

“He never is when he comes home, Feyre," Rhys said dejectedly. "It’s happened before. Cass just needs time.”

Cass.

Nesta tiptoed closer to the door, just enough for her to listen.

“No, what he needs is to see someone!”

“I’ve tried. He doesn’t want to go.”

“Try harder, Rhys!” Feyre cried, her tone frustrated.

“We can’t just force him to go, okay?”

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing? Do you even notice how lost your own fucking brother is? Do you even care?!”

Silence.

“Rhysand, I’m sorry. Gods, I’m so sorry. I know you care. More than anyone. I just… I don’t want to lose him.”

She heard them both breathing deeply.

“C’mere,” Rhys murmured. Nesta heard Feyre's footsteps as she presumably walked toward him.

“We’ll figure it out, okay?”

“Together.”

“Always, Feyre darling.”

They got quiet, probably embracing each other. Nesta crept away from their bedroom door and into the bathroom before they could find her.

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

Elain and Nesta had just unlocked their apartment door when Nesta groaned. “Oh, shit, I forgot my wallet in the car." She fished around in her bag to make sure it wasn't in there. "I’ll be right back.”

"I'll leave the door unlocked," Elain called behind her as Nesta made her way to the elevator.

She stepped between the doors, hitting the button for the parking garage. Gods, she just wanted to go to sleep. The night had been exhausting.

After a minute or so, she was approaching her car. She unlocked her door and grabbed her wallet that was in the middle console when a pair of headlights flashed past her, a car pulling into the spot next to her.

Before panic could set in, Nesta recognized who was driver the car through the window.

Cassian.

His car turned off and he emerged from the driver's door just a moment later. He looked over where Nesta was clutching her wallet to her chest staring at him. He gave her a tight-lipped smile before turning away and walking towards the elevator. Nesta had no choice to follow.

She walked just a few feet behind him as they made their way to the elevator.

"I'm sorry," Cassian told her, his voice sincere. He cast a concerned glance her way. "For embarrassing you at dinner. And if I scared you that night."

"You didn't embarrass me," Nesta snapped at him. "You were just being annoying as hell."

His entire body seemed to relax at her insult. Cassian tried to hide his smirk but failed. "I'm glad to see you're still your normal, hotheaded self. You got me worried at dinner with your stoic behavior."

Now she really glared at him. "Don't talk like you know me. You don't."

"Oh, sweetheart," he teased. "I think we're more similar than you think."

She scoffed. "I think that hubris of yours will be your downfall."

"You know, it's quite sexy when you use literary devices to insult me," he joked.

Nesta froze.

Was he coming onto her? Chills ran down her spine when she thought of the last time a man expressed interest in her.

It's not the same, she tried to convince yourself. He's not Tomas.

Cassian must've expected a heated response to his comment because he looked surprised when Nesta simply stared straight ahead. She seemed to be in a world of her own, oblivious to everything around her. Any trace of anger was gone, replaced by a cool indifference.

Cassian's face fell. "Nesta, I didn't mean to - "

He was cut off as the elevator door dinged opened and Nesta swiftly walked out.

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

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[script-a-world]

Clearly there are some settings which make no sense scientifically. But how do I decide when to intentionally ignore reality, can't bother to do research, don't understand research, and thus create scientifically impossible places? When are such things considered be offensive or overused cliche or have a reader point out the impossibility and can't get into the story? I'm guessing some of this might be structural issues instead of world building?

Tex: One of the perils of attempting to write about highly technical subjects is that you run into the issue of not understanding your writing. I do raise a nominal objection as your first sentence, because sensibility is a sliding scale based on one’s familiarity with a given subject. I don’t know crap about, say, textile art (however much I might have bluffed readers in the past - no, no, this is just good googling skills on my end), but that doesn’t mean the textile arts are an inherently incomprehensible subject.

Scientifically, automobiles were once thought to be insensible. Scientifically, phones were thought to be a flight of fancy. Scientifically, 3D printing was improbable. Scientifically, quantum computing was the stuff of sci-fi nerds who just wanted to slap the “quantum” label on everything.

And yet we are now on the verge of robotic vehicles, mostly functional smartwatches, laser printing cells (PDF), and quantum computers (VentureBeat, IBM).

So I would argue that the insensibility of a setting would be due mostly to, yes, a structural issue - on the part of the author. No matter what you put into your world, internal consistency is key; nothing, no matter how ostensibly outlandish, will make sense if you contradict yourself.

I’ll volley a few questions back to you:

“[...] when to intentionally ignore reality” - Are you ignoring reality entirely, or just parts of it? Why? How does that decision benefit your world? How does it detract from your world?

“Can’t bother to do research” - Is it because you are discouraged by the breadth of your comprehension of a subject, compared to the subject’s depth? Or is it because of something else?

“Don’t understand research” - Is this because you don’t understand the academic papers that turn up in your search results, or because you have a fundamental lack of or misunderstanding of the given subject? Or is it because of something else?

“When are such things considered to be offensive or overused cliche” - As someone who intentionally arranges their studying around the plausibilities of the future, I would quite frankly be delighted to see more conceptual stretches of the imagination in this regard, as do many others on this blog, and beyond it. Why have you already passed judgement on the offensiveness or clichéd-ness of incorporating scientific things? Is this related to your other comments?

“[...] or have a reader point out the impossibility and can’t get into the story?” - If you are writing to please a specific individual or demographic, you are inevitably always going to fall short, because it’s genuinely impossible to meet every single item on a group’s wishlist without devoting your life to it (not an entirely worthy pursuit, in my opinion, but alas). What made you decide to be so concerned over the potential reaction to your stories that you worry about it before the story is even written?

I think I will put the majority of my curiosity’s weight on the last bullet point, as I’m seeing similar themes with the other portions of your question. It’s a fruitless endeavour to tie yourself into knots over a possible (not necessarily probable!) reaction - and quite likely from a stranger, to boot. Education is a relatively easy situation to fix, so long as you’re patient with yourself; dealing with anxieties over readers is… not so easy.

I can really only recommend that you take a close look at the goals of your worldbuilding, and see where you contradict yourself - once you have that in hand, it’s a relatively simple yes/no process of what concepts you want to keep. If the issue of decision comes from a lack of understanding, then make a note to yourself to seek out either the million wikis we Pylons utilize ourselves like any other worldbuilder, or to chalk it up as a genuine lack of context.

Please understand that even someone who’s dedicated their life to a certain aspect of science won’t know everything about it - that’s the point of research! We’re constantly asking ourselves questions, and pushing the envelope of known boundaries. Star Wars has lightsabers, but we don’t need to know how they work; likewise with holodecks in Star Trek. So long as an audience is reasonably entertained with the least amount of head-scratching, you can get away with handwaving quite a lot.

Lockea: On a scale between Star Trek and Star Wars, how “hard” is your science fiction?

I mention that mostly to illustrate that science fiction exists on a continuum, wherein science fiction with more “science” than “fiction” drives a story towards the harder end rather than the softer end. Also, a story’s place on the continuum will change based on what we know and understand about science.

I feel like everyone always beats me to saying all the important stuff about questions, so I’ll just give a few thoughts from my personal experience as a science fiction fan with two engineering degrees and a thesis about robots on the moon (yes really, I wrote my thesis on AI for moon robots). I really, really, love the creativity of science fiction writers. I think so often in defending the genre, we can get caught up in saying things like “science fiction predicted XYZ!” Well, sure, I may have studied Isaac Asimov’s three laws of robotics in my introduction to engineering ethics course, but I was also greedily reading my way through “The Hunger Games” by Suzanne Collins at the same time. The fact that I sincerely doubt Panem will ever happen didn’t dampen my enjoyment of Katniss’s story. It was a fun read and it gave my friends and I something to talk about that wasn’t “feasibility of Battlestar Galactica” during our daily lunches.

The thing about writing science fiction is that, without a doubt, there will be someone who knows more than you about a topic who reads your story. Most of the time, I end up being that someone since everyone likes to talk about Skynet and robots taking over the world to a roboticist who sincerely refers to artificial intelligence as artificial stupidity. Y'all are seriously overestimating the field, my friends. Nonetheless, I still enjoyed “Captain America: The Winter Soldier” even as I thought how impossible Project Insight would be. Honestly, something every READER of science fiction needs to make peace with is the fact that writers will get something wrong. Writers, despite their best efforts, are not always going to understand that a facial recognition algorithm will fail if you introduce tiny amounts of random noise and are thus going to treat The Algorithm™ as infallible in your crime drama novel.

It’s not the writer’s fault, though.

That deserves to be on its own line. It is not YOUR fault if you get something wrong. Would it be nice if science literacy was just better all around? Of course! But it’s not your fault if your science literacy isn’t up to snuff enough to parse the article I cited above. It’s also not your job. Your job as the writer is to tell the most interesting story you can and to maintain your own internal rules and logic such that the reader never breaks the willing suspension of disbelief.

I watch Star Wars and get really into the light saber fight scenes and forget that light sabers are basically impossible to make. Star Wars has the Force, which is basically magic, and that’s okay. Really. I KNOW it’s not possible, but I still have a lot of fun watching it!

So yeah, write that story about how the robots are going to take over the world. I’ll probably enjoy reading it even as I laugh off my friends telling me that I will be the first to die in the robot apocalypse (of course I will -- I have five robots in my living room alone).

Constablewrites: Tone and consistency are the biggest pieces of this for me. If it’s the kind of story where the answer to “How does this work?” is usually a detailed and plausible explanation, then getting an answer later that is implausible or slapdash will stand out more. But if it’s the kind of story where the answer to “How does this work?” is “You push that button and it goes whoosh” from the start, my expectations adjust accordingly. (It’s possible to have the latter version in a story that is mostly the former, frequently when it’s played for last. Again, tone is key.)

So yeah, a lot of this is execution and the way the story sticks to the rules it sets for itself, and also how central the implausibility is to the story. A realistic thriller that relies on cartoon logic for a background bit might be a little jarring, but not nearly as much as a realistic thriller that relies on cartoon logic to set up its main showdown. The more central it is to the story, the more consistency and accuracy matters. Learning how to balance this can take some practice and some insight from beta readers.