#end of the year writing ask meme

[dandelion-wings]

❤️ for Jean/Kaeya please!

Thank you for the ask! <3 This got unintentionally long and unintentionally angsty--I went "why not cute teenage shenanigans?" and then thought about. uh. where Kaeya was at backstory-wise as an older teen--but I did have fun writing it!

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ETA: Now on AO3.

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Kaeya's favorite part of Father's parties is probably the chance to see Jean and Diluc dance. It's not the only part he enjoys, but it's the best.

Whenever he gets tired of watching Father manipulate the politics of the Wine Guild, which in many ways are the politics of Mondstadt itself, Kaeya turns his gaze to the dance floor. Diluc and Jean are most often there, sweeping around and around, until they gather up food from the buffet and come to join him by the wall. Kaeya thinks that he *likes* dancing more than they do--but he, the adopted younger son, holds little interest to the sorts who come to these affairs, while both of them, heirs to the city's most powerful families, are much in demand. So they dance, with all the trained-in skill of nobility and all the athleticism of the Knights' best junior officers, and Kaeya watches.

They don't always dance with each other; that way lies rumors that they both find uncomfortable to have bandied about. They meet every three or four songs, though, both visibly relieved to be dancing with someone who won't invade their space or flash too much skin or stomp all over of their feet. Kaeya watches them spin each other around and basks in their relaxed smiles, admiring the confidence with which they move while partnered with someone they trust.

Confidence comes naturally to Diluc, with his early Vision and his subsequent strength and Father's praise and encouragement. It's more difficult for Jean. Kaeya has watched her hide her struggles, well enough that he doubts many people realize she's struggling at all. He's too familiar with keeping secrets, though, for someone with so honest a heart as Jean to conceal them from his gaze. So the confidence he sees in her now, back straight, standing tall, smiling at Diluc as fellow-captain and equal and no longer the junior struggling to be his match, makes him all the gladder. Fond warmth fills him as he studies her smile.

He watches them dance until the song ends, and then turns and starts making his way to the buffet table. He isn't hungry at the moment, but he will be later, and they'll be even more so. Another hour and people will be drunk enough that all three of them can sneak away to a back room and dissect the canapes together.

Before he can start to assemble a plate, though, there's a hand on his shoulder. Turning, Kaeya sees Jean behind him, bright-eyed and flushed with exertion, a light sweat making her skin seem to glow. She smiles at him, that same proud confidence, but even more eager.

"Kaeya! I haven't seen you all evening. Can I talk you into a dance?"

"A dance?" Kaeya stares at her, taken aback. "I was going to get us a plate."

"Diluc can do that for us this time. Please, Kaeya. Honor me with a dance."

Jean holds her hand out to him, but Kaeya still hesitates. Diluc has tried before to get him more dance partners, one way or another. If this is another such attempt--showing the would-be gold-diggers that he's worth Jean's attention, maybe--then he's not sure.... But he does like to dance. And Jean's eager smile is slipping away.

"Of course," he says, bowing over her hand in a deliberately silly exaggeration of Father's smooth gesture and smiling in satisfaction at her giggle. Then, her smile restored, he lets her lead him onto the dance floor.

The song just starting up is exactly his favorite sort: quick and energetic, accompanied by a dance that requires exactly the sort of precision and speed at which he excels. He knows it better than Jean, he quickly realizes, and shifts his grip on her hand and the lean of his body to guide her slightly without dragging her around, which he knows she hates, or stepping on her feet, which anyone would. Jean follows his lead with the same dedicated focus with which she's always followed Diluc's as a knight, determined to learn the same expertise. By the third chorus she no longer needs a guide, matching him exactly, step-by-step.

"You should dance more often," Jean tells him as they move into the last verse of the song. "You're truly very good at it."

"Only when I have such an inspiring partner," Kaeya ventures to tease her, and is rewarded when she giggles, promptly missing a step.

Catching herself, Jean falls back into the rhythm. She draws herself a little closer as the music fades, the two of them swirling to a stop. On the last step, though, she somehow trips on empty air, catching herself on Kaeya before she can fall.

They're in a shadowed corner, fortunately, out of sight of all but the closest couples, none of which are paying her misstep any heed. Kaeya puts his arms around her and takes her weight for a moment while she sorts herself out, trying to ignore the warmth of her pressed against him and the softness of her breasts against his chest. She's his friend; she deserves better than to feature in his inappropriate thoughts.

Instead of pushing away from him as she regains her balance, though, Jean leans closer, their face only inches apart. "I'd be happy to be your partner. Whenever you'd like," she whispers, and leans in. Her lips brush his, soft and warm and faintly sweet-scented from the perfume she's wearing, underlaid with familiar knightly sweat. Kaeya's heart seizes in his chest.

He's an idiot. She hadn't *tripped*.

For a moment he stands there, her lips against his and his arms around her waist, breathing in the scent of her, sweet cecilia and natural sweat. It isn't an inappropriate thought if she meant him to have it, right? She's so warm against him, all soft skin and well-honed muscle, and he thinks of her smile--confident, eager, relaxed--her little giggles, how easy both of them are to bring forth. He likes doing that. He *wants* to do that, as often as he's able. He's never realized that before.

Then, over her shoulder, he catches two familiar faces halfway across the ballroom. Diluc, paused in the act of filling a plate with canapes, smiling with far too much self-satisfaction for something he's not in the least involved in as he looks directly at them; beside him Father, at once calculating and indulgently pleased, following his gaze. Kaeya's stomach drops.

Both of them will feel betrayed enough, someday, when they find out what kind of traitor he is. He can't add Jean to their number. Straightening up, Kaeya lets go of her and pushes her gently back, hands on her shoulders as if to steady her, and makes himself smile politely down at her wounded expression.

"This was more than enough dancing for me. Diluc makes by far the better partner for you, anyway."

Jean swallows hard, her lip trembling, eyes damp with what Kaeya is terribly afraid are tears. Then she blinks, once, and draws herself up, covering it not with a false smile of her own but with a Gunnhildr's knightly composure.

"I understand. I will not trouble you to dance with me again."

She turns towards the table, starting that way, though from the side Kaeya can see her deliberately evading Diluc's now-confused gaze. He watches her go a moment longer, his resolve shaky. He's hurt her, and he didn't want to do that. He doesn't want to hurt anyone he loves.

But he doesn't have any choice in that. He never has. The only options were to break her heart now or later, and now is kinder, right? For them both. Kaeya turns away, heading blindly for the back rooms of the mansion, not to meet her and Diluc for canapes and casual conversation this time but to hide away until Jean leaves. And to try and forget the feeling of her mouth on his, the warmth of her lips still lingering upon his own.

[makoredeyes]

I couldn't make up my mind!

9, 15, 17, 21, 26

So many! Bro why you making me work so hard first thing in the morning?! XD

(Fam, this is our favorite Editor Extraordinaire Crafty if you didn't know :3 )

9: A fic you didn't expect to write: Still Air hit me out of left field. It's a little shortie at just barely over 1k words, but I woke up one day and chose Candal out of nowhere. And that was kind of it too got it out of my system O_o (not that I don't want to or don't enjoy writing for these guys but they are a bit out of my wheelhouse. I did take another prompt request for them recently and really enjoyed it, but THIS was spontaneous)

15: Two things you achieved this year that you're most proud of: These are gonna be a little vaguer/broader. I'd love to like, hold up a literary child and say, DIS ONE but it's bigger than that for me.

1- that I'm still writing. I've been going full steam ahead for the last 14 months and I haven't really slowed down and I haven't quit. (Yeah, I'm posting less frequently because I'm taking more care in the background but I am writing just as frequently as I was this time last year)

2- my growth as a writer. My skill in story telling, my literal technical skill, all of that has grown. I can see it.

17: Two favorite lines/paragraphs/scenes from this year's fics: One, from Things Found Timur’s laughter broke into gleeful cackling as they ran, the Stormtrancer leaping and sliding over obstacles as though he was barely touching the ground at all, his skin crackling with energy and his palm buzzing against Felwinter’s in his grip. Felwinter, as swift and agile as he was, was struggling to keep up, but he felt nearly weightless to Timur as he dragged the Exo along. Another lightning strike blew a crater into the roadside as they ran, making his blood surge and his pulse gallop sweetly, his Light starting to spark up his arm to crackle and coil harmlessly around Felwinter’s wrist, little fingers of Arc Light kissing at the buckles of his gauntlet and through to tickle delicate actuators and joints of his hand. ---- Another from still one of my standing favorites, Deepest Desire:

Felwinter didn't wait around to see if he felt any definitive effect of the Wish Magic upon him. He darted into motion, leaping high into the air. He summoned the Void, building an utterly cataclysmic black hole between his hands which he then hurled with meteoric force down at the beast. It screamed, twisting and thrashing as it was caught in the inexorable gravitational pull of all of his bottled malice. Limbs, flesh, and bone slowly separated and folded as it was crushed by the product of Felwinter's sheer force of will. Another, smaller Void projectile pinned its head, and Felwinter raised his rifle. He snarled to himself, frigid ire tunneling his world down to pinpoint reticles as he cracked off one booming shot after another, piercing the dragon's eyes in swift, systematic succession, until at last he'd blinded it with surgical precision.

"Vicious beast!" The Ahamkara screeched, thrashing in agony. "You will know torment! You will know what it means to be hunted, to be hated for being nothing more than what you are! You will be forced to savor agony slowly! "

"I already know those things," Felwinter hissed, unimpressed. "I have long since befriended them all and we are old bedfellows now." He drew an elegant, fiery blade from the ether and struck downward in a vicious slash, casting out great cutting scythes of Sunfire. The smell of burnt flesh did not bother him, nor did the dragon's wretched screams of torment. "You do not frighten me." 

21: Most memorable comment/review/praise you received this year:

this is an excerpt from about 8 paragraphs worth of pure gold but these kinds of Rasputin Roasts just live Rent Free in my head in the best way.

26: One thing that had the biggest influence on your writing this year:

YOU KNOW WHAT

but like, blaming Sylenth aside (we will continue to blame her though because it is both true and very fun and because she continues to fuel the fire as well <3) You? Our friends. This community. You guys are keeping me going at this point.

You and I and a lot of other writers have noticed - folks don't interact, they don't review, they don't drop kudos, and like we've talked about, frankly, there's only a handful of Destiny fans that READ and lets face it I'm in a DAMN SMALL (and wonderful <3) niche subfandom anyway so it's literally you and like six other people (you know who you are) and a precious handful of perennial readers doing the work of hundreds here keeping me going, isn't it?

And I'm so, so fucking grateful. <3

[victorluvsalice]

End Of Year Director's Cut Ask Game

Got tagged in this by @dont-offend-the-bees -- "Ask me about any extra lore or meta about any of my fic from this year, or a dealer’s choice fun fact that didn’t make it into the fic itself!" Your choices include:

AO3:

Londerland Bloodlines: Downtown Queensland (currently half-finished)

Start At The Beginning...Sort Of (completed)

OT3 Week 2024 & Polyship Week 2024:

OT3 Week 2024 Masterpost (contains links to eight other fics)

Polyship Week 2024 Masterpost (contains links to seven other fics)

Birthday Gift Fics:

Regicidal Heart (aka Marie)

Don't Offend The Bees (aka Newt)

GayDragonWizards (aka Squid)

NebbyChan

WeirdKev

VanD0rk/HauntedDcllHouse

Christmas Gift Fics:

Regicidal Heart

Don't Offend The Bees

GayDragonWizards

NebbyChan

WeirdKev

VanD0rk/HauntedDcllHouse

Ace-Of-Tales

TheSatiricalDemon

@ace-of-tales, @thesatiricaldemon, @nebbychan, and anybody else on the list who may write fic or fanfic, if you feel inclined to do this, here's your tag. :P

[kiwiana-writes]

sending this to everyone 💖 21. Not a question, but a challenge! Say something nice about your writing!

Fuck. You. 🤣

21. Not a question, but a challenge! Say something nice about your writing!

I'm not GOOD at this and I've already done it twice, have a care.

I think I'm good at packing a whole lot of punch into drabbles (or double drabbles). Just absolutely stuffing them full of Big Feelings lmao.

[Fanfic Writer End of Year Ask Game]

[good-beanswrites]

Hello, I've been thinking about your actors au. Are you doing anything about Rei and Mikio being the only side characters with faces in the first trial? Because I do have a theory about that which I haven't posted but I always thought that was really interesting. Even Yamanaka pointed it out in the first anniversary stream.

Ah, I definitely want to!! Mikio is the man in Harrow, right? (There's also maybe-Rumerie in Bring it On who drives me crazy to this day asdfsd) I'm hoping once the project ends and we get the bigger picture, I can really highlight their relationships more. I'll touch on some of my ideas real quick, but I'd love to hear your theory if you ever end up posting it 👀

My problem is, I originally thought the faces show the prisoners' love towards them, and not necessarily mutual relationship -- which causes some hiccups with including them as characters in the au... (Including t2 faces), Haruka hungers for his mother's love, but given her abuse, they couldn't in good conscience have her on set with him. Rumerie may have been some sort of friend, but he didn't seem so close that he'd be okay seeing Fuuta again and being implicated in his crime. Muu cares very deeply for Rei, but even if the murders never occurred, I can't picture a young girl would feel safe filming her own death at the hands of her bully... I ran into a similar issue with Mahiru and Kazui's partners, but as adults I felt like it was easier and safer for them to consent to the situation.

However! The fact that Kotoko's victim has a clear face really interests me, because that's the only one that (seemingly) has no established relationship or love between them. What could Muu's realtionship with her classmate have in common with Kotoko's and the victim she hunted down from a distance? So I'd love to compare with your thoughts and reevaluate my theory as the new mvs come out...

[fideidefenswhore]

1, 8 and 23 😘

the character everyone gets wrong

thomas more and cardinal wolsey are both intensely poor little meow-meowed which is like...

not to be a dick, but if they had both actually retired (as in...actually retired), they both probably would've been fine. they both made their own beds.

(wolsey is a little bit less bcus heavier men associated with 'vice' and all of that boring and and biased and hateful paradigm, a little bit more because he received a fairly positive spin in wulfe hall series, and more has been a little bit less lately because of the latter but...still)

common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

his contemporaries (not all, but rather a lot, considering the magnitude of his deeds and choices) defended and liked hviii a lot. it is what it is. people are fucking weird about those in power, it often causes them to excuse and condone acts they wouldn't were they committed by anyone else.

ship you��ve unwillingly come around to

i'd say SAME ANSWER except in my own AU histfic i have outlined a pairing for jane seymour that i've never seen before, and so far i actually really like their dynamic and the scenes between them as i've written them... it's kind of a fucked up ship tho so we'll see what the response is, lol (it's an arranged marriage)

[disregardcanon]

end of the year writing meme: tagging anyone who wants to do this!

or: 2024 in fanfiction 

Total Stories Written: 19

Total Words Written: 103,787 this was the first year since 2019 that i cracked 100k!!!!! Average Words Per Story: the mean is about 5,000, but most of them clocked in somewhere 7-11k. I could do the median or the range or something but I Do Not Care Enough Shortest Story:  a rubber band, extended at 684 words Longest: daddy doesn’t love me and mommy is a god at 12,149

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted? I wrote more than I predicted. I was expecting to be about 75k again, so this was a pleasant surprise :)

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write most? The only pairing I technically wrote more than once was steph/grace from hatchetfield. The genre i wrote most was “what if i made people sad about interpersonal problems?” and then the fandom i wrote most was still hatchetfield, but agatha all along came in swinging late in the year

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January? None of the fandoms i participated in this year were a surprise, but i did get into making video edits a bit! That was a surprise. My favorite was Good Luck Babe, 1973 for amc iwtv Did you take any writing risks this year?

I started my first multichapter, post as i go kind of wip in years. I almost never finish those, so the fact that i’ve been making steady progress and feel like i’ll finish it is BIG. wicked fic

The other biggest writing risk I took was writing No-Fault High School Divorce. I’m working on an agatha all along fic series that’s about 1. The fandom’s least favorite character 2. The thorniest, most uncomfortable way to examine his backstory 3… a breakup where no one’s all the way at fault 4. Exploring different ways to play with having a character who’s a ghost and a character that reads minds. Both of these are things that I haven’t worked with much before, so trying to make it dynamic and understandable is a difficult line. It was worth it, though. I’m very proud of it.  

Do you have any fanfic or general writing goals for the new year?

I want to finish up the wicked fic, continue my atla imperialism series, and keep having fun with it.

From the past year of writing, what was your…Best story of this year: 

I can’t pick a favorite child this year, but I will highlight A Pile of Probablys. It doesn’t get any other love on the list this year, so… if you want some dragon prince content, this one’s for you. It’s about Terry and Claudia and it was written before the latest season came out. I’m on the fence about what the show did with them this season, but I still love my own dynamic and backstory. 

Most popular story of this year: Family is Forever, an agatha all along fic where wanda finds billy immediately after she collapses the hex

Personal favorite: Again, can’t pick a favorite child, but I’ll highlight Becky Barnes Tries Again. It’s my becky barnes character study where she gets nice things. 

Most under-appreciated: The Wiskayok Honey Queen! It’s underappreciated because it’s so niche, but I absolutely love it. Jackieshauna tearing each other apart to become the hatchetfield honey queen? It was too perfect a crossover for me NOT to write

Most fun to write: Normal is a Myth- this was the second fic in my “hatchetfield half-bloods” series. While the first one, a story focusing on a teenage ted spankoffski joining kronos’s army, was really fun to write too… this one that focuses on paul and emma was an absolute delight. I got to do some fun thinking about what adulthood could look like in the percy jackson universe and come up with some creative and funny scenes. 

Story with the single sexiest moment: reasons to live! This is the steph/grace fic set in the universe where steph shot pete but he didn’t die quickly enough to make their deal. Grace still had to sleep with max to save them, and fall in love in the aftermath and start killing people together

Most “holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story: precious few at ease with moral ambiguities is my ongoing wicked fic, and HOOOOOO BOOOOYYYY is it a dark little doozy. Love Potions. The dissemination of fascist propaganda. Viewing relationships as tools and toys. Cruelty and manipulation. Basically, this is exactly what was going to happen when I read tbosas for the first time just about a month before the new wicked movie came out. Most challenging to write: That’s How She Became the Nanny. It was just under 5k, but everytime I come back to my atla imperialism au it gets harder. It’s mainly because it’s dear to my heart and I want to do so well by it, but it’s just such a sticky moral quagmire and it requires so much character work and worldbuilding that it’s exhausting. 

Most telling fic: empty chairs at empty tables. There’s nothing on earth i love more than painful parallels, musical theater allusions, and writing a quick fic in one setting that explores all of those things. They gave jinx a les mis flag! Of course i was going to write something awful about her dads’ failed revolution set around it. 

Biggest disappointment: I didn’t have any disappointments this year. Just being able to pull words from my brain has felt like a miracle Favorite character to write: agatha harkness. She is SO much fun

Favorite opening lines:

Stephanie Lauter never had a lot of drive. Her father called her lazy, her teachers called her unmotivated, and her friends always said that she “goes with the flow”, which is a nicer way of saying the same thing.

Reasons to Live

Margaery Tyrell has seen a lot of houses in her life. She bed-hopped from woman to woman in college, traveled the world for a few years after graduation, and then, of course, she became a realtor at her family’s firm. She can safely say that she’s an expert in houses. 

As an expert in houses, Margaery knows this is the tackiest one that she’s ever been in. 

Chirp on about Good Bones

It’s a beautiful day in Queens. The sun is shining. The car horns are honking. While sitting on the subway, Paul Matthews sees a muscular guy with a single eye in the middle of his forehead. 

Yep! It’s a perfectly normal day in Queens. At least it is for Paul.

Normal is a Myth Favorite closing lines:

Agatha puts a coy hand to to her face and flips her ghostly hair. “I like the bad boys.” This gets him laughing as they drive home. All of his worries aren’t put to bed, but some of them are. Most importantly, Tommy is still alive. Billy might have stolen a boy's life and parents, might have killed three people, might have hurt his boyfriend and almost everyone who's ever cared about him, but he hasn't ruined everything.

(Yet.) 

Death’s Unwanted Stepson

Stephanie Lauter hands this burden to her father. He shoulders it, the way that he will for years to come. Maybe for the rest of time. And as guilty as she feels about it… it doesn’t stop her from passing the consequences on. You know what they say: better him than me. 

Turning to a Parent

Other favorite lines:

“I’m Ted.” 

“Ted?” Jenny asks, frowning, “no, that’s too formal. I’m gonna call you Teddy.” She says this with a look so warm and flirtatious he understands, suddenly, why the ancient Greeks went to war for Helen. 

“Cool beans,” he responds, like a fucking moron.

daddy doesn’t love me and mommy is a god

“Stephanie has a date to the dance, and that date is a girl .” 

“O… kay?” 

 “You said, and I quote “she’s not gay, she’s six” when she got gay-married on the playground,” her mom says.

The Ex Girlfriends and Boyfriends of Stephanie Lauter

Pete is sick of it. He knows Ruth. She’s going to fuck this up and she’s going to embarrass herself in front of everyone there and then she’s going to cry about it. Everyone else is going to be mean to her for valid reasons and he’s going to have to do the awkward, insincere “oh no, it’s okay! You did great!” or else he’s a jerk. So no, he’s not shelling out twenty dollars to see Ruth’s social suicide. Pete told her and Richie that he’s not coming, and he’s sticking to that. 

He. Is. Not. Coming. He made it clear weeks ago that he thinks this is a bad idea that's just going to get Ruth hurt and he's not supporting it. 

The Opposite of FOMO

Video Summary: Jennifer Kale weaves a captivating story of her walk down the Witches’ Road, and what it taught her about witchcraft, the value of her expertise, and sisterhood.

Categories: The Witches’ Road, Potions, Binding, Covens, Testimonies

Image Description: Jennifer Kale seated in front of a vanity. Her head is shaved, her makeup is stylish, and she is wearing a beautiful pink blouse underneath a white doctor’s coat. A stethoscope is draped around her neck

Up the Witches’ Road

“Huh,” Darcy says, “I wonder what Agatha Harkness’s murder basement looks like.” 

Jimmy can’t help but chuckle. “I guess we’ll find out?”

Woo and Lewis: Westview Part 2

[grimm-the-tiger]

Making shitty out-of-context memes of my current original WIPs

Ashes to Ashes:

Frostbite:

Hybrid Wars:

Monotopia:

Empire's End:

Children of Ice:

[theangrypomeranian]

🌹 (also this is just to say, every time you announce Baby Steps gets longer I smile lol. I really can’t imagine saying goodbye to this universe!)

i'm giving you two sentences because they go together and i think they're funny lol

“At least they aren’t naked,” Josh said with a shit-eating grin. “Do NOT put that out into the universe, oh my god!” Jimmy whined.

[bweirdart]

EVENT OVER! THANKS EVERYONE WHO JOINED IN U ALL DID AN AMAZING JOB <3 SEE YOU AGAIN NEXT YEAR IN MARCH FOR #mARTch OR NEXT OCTOBER (2024) FOR A NEW SET OF PROMPTS!!!!!

OC-TOBER 2023 PROMPTS!!

general tag: #oc-tober / my prompts: #bweirdOCtober

F.A.Q:

Do I have to draw EVERY DAY?

NO! I highly encourage skipping as many days as you need to avoid burnout! There are 10 main days in the event (marked with a ⭐ star) that you can focus on if you don't feel up to doing every day, or you can choose your own adventure and just do the prompts you personally like!

Do I have to DRAW?

NO! You can also write fanfiction snippets, repost older art that fits the theme, tweet headcanons/backstory, roleplay in-character as your oc ... genuinely anything that fits the theme is OK!!

Can I start early?

YES! I understand some people work at a slower pace and might need a head start! So long as you wait until October to post it, you can start working as early as you need!

I missed the start of the event .. do I have to catch up?

NO! Please don't stress about days you missed, you're allowed to just skip to the current prompt!

RULES:

1. MAKE FRIENDS! The community is the best part of this event .. please try to follow new people, ask questions about ocs you like, compliment people's styles, ask friends to create with you, etc!

2. TAKE IT EASY! Skip a day if you're tired, busy or just not interested in the prompt. You don't have to catch up on it later. This is supposed to be fun, not work!

3. BE KIND! Please think about the people around you - don't give people unwarranted harsh criticism, content warn for themes/imagery in your work that could trigger someone, don't create anything hateful, etc

MORE:

text version / tips and ideas on bweird.art or below ↓

star = main prompts | no star = optional

INTRO WEEK

1: FAVE OC ⭐

-Which of your characters is your favourite right now?

2: NEW OC

-Who is your newest OC?

-Design a new OC right now

3: OLD OC ⭐

-Do you remember the first OC you ever made?

-Is there an OC you haven't drawn in a long time?

4: RE-DESIGN

-An OC who has changed a lot over the years

-Take an old OC and update their design right now

 

BACKSTORY WEEK

5: RELATIONSHIPS ⭐

-Who is important to your OC?

-Do they have a partner?

-Do they have a best friend?

-Are they close to their family?

6: SYMBOL

-What imagery do you associate with your oc?

-Are there any colours, flowers, animals or concepts that symbolize them?

7: PERSONALITY ⭐

-How does your OC behave?

-What are their positive traits?

-What are their negative traits?

-Are they extroverted or introverted?

8: PAST

-What was your OC like as a child?

-Where did they grow up?

-Are there any significant moments from their past that shaped who they are?

9: FUTURE ⭐

-Does your OC have a goal they're working towards?

-What will your OC look like when they get older

-Do you have a planned ending for their story?

PALETTE WEEK

10: pumpkin patch palette

#251604 #1E3807 #5B5E1A #A2A657 #EBA00F #F3ECCC

11: hot cocoa palette

#520B13 #BB382E #E27E6D #88392C #AF5D40 #E1AFA4

12: midnight zone palette

#000007 #000049 #183885 #004D4F #0E8788 #FFF1C0

13: peachy palette

#DE6450 #DB9171 #FFC1AE #FEE1AD #FFF2E0 #D9D8D8

14: haunted house palette

#552506 #6E25AA #ED690B #F925A0 #8F8BA7 #A6C1AA

FUN + GAMES WEEK

15: MEME ⭐

-Post memes that remind you of your OC

-Draw your OC as a meme

-Fill out a character meme (classic deviantart style)

16: FOOD

-What is your OC's favourite food?

-What is their least favourite?

-Can they cook?

17: EYES-CLOSED ⭐

-Draw your OC with your eyes closed! No cheating!

-Write a scene without looking at the keyboard! Keep the typos in!

18: SWAP

-Swap the style or aesthetic of two of your OCs

-Species or gender swap AU

-Invert an OC's colour scheme

19: INSPIRATION ⭐

-Is your OC inspired by any pre-existing characters?

-Are there any particular songs/lyrics that inspired something about one of your OCs

-Do you have a dedicated pinterest moodboard for your character?

20: INVENTORY

-What does your OC carry around with them on a daily basis?

-Are there any objects that have sentimental value for them?

-Loot drop for your DnD OC

 

FRIENDS WEEK

21-25:

There's no specific daily prompts for this week, but here are some ideas you can try ...

-Art trades with friends who are doing the event with you

-Your OC interacting with a friend's OC

-Gift art for someone whose OCs you like

-Work together and collaborate on something with a friend

-Roleplay an OC scene together with someone

 

HALLOWEEN WEEK

26: FEAR ⭐

-What is your OC scared of?

-Draw one of your OCs trying to scare the others

27: MONSTER

-Do you have any monster OCs? (eg: vampires, werewolves, creatures, ghosts...)

-Draw a human OC as a monster

-Design a new monster

28: TRICK

-Play a trick on an OC

-Do you have an OC who would play tricks on people?

29: TREAT

-What is your OC's favourite halloween candy?

-Give an OC a special treat to make up for yesterday's trick

30: MAGIC

-Do any of your characters have magical powers?

-Give an OC a magical or cursed artifact

-Create a magic-using OC like a witch or wizard

27: COSTUME ⭐

-What is your OC dressing as for halloween?

[antiquatedmagic]

tag drop.

[glamourscat]

Literally love your Tim Drake works 🙏 so good to see him get some hype!!

Can I please request Tim Drake with Gn!reader teasing him about essentially being his sugar baby? Not using him obvi, but like as a broke college student myself, I know he would simply not be able to witness our conditions without stepping in. Idk if he's ever canonically gone to a dorm, but I think explaining the concept of having to wear a "shower shoe" to avoid communal shower fungus would be enough for him to just buy you an apartment for the next 4 years 😭 or looking in the fridge only to see the takeout box, bread, and ketchup combo cause groceries are toooo expensive 😭 The "damn bitch you live like this" meme personified

Sorry this became off-topic ramble-ly lol I just think it's funny how stressed he would be by his partner's early 20's ✨ broke era✨

a/n: when I tell I saw the request and immediately my fingers started writing😭 loved this! thank you so much, I hope it’s what you were looking for <3

cw: slightly suggestive towards the end

── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ♡ ── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ♡ ── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“For the love of—babe?” Tim’s voice rang through your college dorm room.

You looked up from the bed where you were working on some assignments, meeting his eyes as he crouched near the mini-fridge under your desk.

“Yeah, hun?” you said, eyebrows furrowing.

“What in the actual hell is this?” he exclaimed, holding up a few boxes of Chinese takeout and random half-open sauce packets—most definitely “borrowed” from fast food joints and restaurants alike. His face was a mix of shock and genuine concern for you.

“Ah, yeah. That was my dinner yesterday, my lunch the day before yesterday, and my breakfast… yep,” you said casually, shrugging as you went back to your work.

After all, it’s not like you’re the only one in this situation. Sure, you would have preferred to eat a proper meal, but broke students have to survive somehow, right?

“Babe… you are seriously surviving off of scraps? This can barely keep you fed, not to mention the—” he stopped as he looked over at your desk. “Now what in the hell is this?” His voice was slightly high-pitched as he stared at the shower shoes on your desk that you had forgotten to put away before he came by.

“Those? You’ve really never seen shower shoes?” you said with a hint of an amused smile. “Those are shower shoes, Tim. I use them in the communal showers since we don’t have individual ones. To avoid getting shower fungus or athlete’s foot, ya know? Stuff like that.” Your words were so calm, so… like you were used to it.

Tim stared at you with his eyes almost bulging out of his skull, genuinely trying to make his last remaining brain cells understand how this way of living was even possible on college grounds. But more importantly, how the hell were you supposed to live like this for the next four years?

“Where are you going?” you asked, confused, seeing him rush to put his jacket on.

“Put your jacket on. We are going to look at apartments right now. I think I caught something just by thinking of you living here for the next four years, malnourished and worst of all, using communal showers. What if something happened to you? Yeah, fuck that, c’mon” he said frantically, almost dragging you out of your dorm by the hand as you tried not to laugh.

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting—”

“No,” he cut you off. His expression was almost comical in how genuinely frantic he was. But, despite that, it was also cute seeing how much he cared for you.

“Tim, I know you’re concerned but, I mean—an apartment is a big thing. I—”

He stopped, turning you to face him in the empty hallway. His hands rested on your waist. “I have the money. You can’t live like this. Let me help my lover, okay? I will still do it, you know that. If not now I’ll gift you an apartment for Christmas since it’s around the corner.” His voice got lower. “Besides, we certainly can’t do anything in here, one moan from me—”

“TIM!” you said, flustered, a small embarrassed chuckle escaping your lips.

“What? It’s the truth. Everyone will be all up in our business…” he whined quietly as he got closer, his soft lips leaving a warm kiss on your neck.

“Besides—” he whispered in your ear, causing shivers to run down your spine, “I can’t sneak in with my Red Robin costume here. And you bet your ass I’m coming over after patrol so we can be together. Soooo, an apartment it is,” he hummed proudly, leaving another kiss, this time a soft peck on your lips. He pulled back with a soft smile that just made you want to squeeze his cheeks for how cute he looked.

“Still, I mean…” you sighed softly. “I feel like your sugar baby, hun,” you said half-jokingly.

“Yeah?” he said with a cheeky twinkle in his eye. “Then that just means I need to spoil my baby more. That’s the bare minimum I can do after all hmm?” He wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you close as you two walked off giggling to yourselves like fools, yes, but fools in love.

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[haljathefangirlcat]

Also a shoutout to whoever wrote this very salty episode summary on the RH wiki.

OP, I will literally never be able to thank you enough for exposing me to this.

Robin Hood Rewatch - 3x09: A Dangerous Deal

Sigh.

I mean, where do I even start? I remember this episode being bad, but I’m astounded at how truly terrible it is. Really the most misogynistic trashfire of an episode this show ever had the misfortune to produce.

Ranting ahead. Quite a bit of it.

Continua a leggere

[thenationofzaun]

The Vander/Silco Shitshow - generic, juvenile, and gimmicky slop

So, I think that Vander/Silco flashback was terrible. Tropey, careless, juvenile, clichéd bullshit that stripped away everything that made their season 1 story nuanced and poignant, while simultaneously ripping open a fat plot hole because the team got careless and did not catch the discrepancy between the story they'd written in their heads and the visuals that ended up on screen in season 1. This is just going to be a long rant post detailing the reasons I absolutely despised this flashback. Obligatory disclaimer that this is just my (strongly held) opinion.

1) The timeline plot hole

No, I'm not misusing the term. So a plot hole is an inconsistency in a fictional narrative that cannot be explained away by any plausible in-universe justifications. There are many moments of weak writing in Arcane that may be contrived, rushed, weird, convenient, etc. but aren't plot holes.

This Vander/Silco situation however. Oh boy. If you all remember, Season 1 opened with the bridge massacre, also known as the Day of Ash. Vander is shown cracking enforcers' skulls. He looks like this.

The sisters, seemingly recognizing him, ask him where their parents are. He gestures to their corpses, the sisters cry, Vander has his "violence is not the answer" epiphany, drops the gauntlets very dramatically to underscore this massive turning point of character development for him, then picks the girls up and leaves the bridge.

In episode 3, we are shown a flashback. Vander is trying to kill Silco in the river. He looks like this.

Let's compare this to how he looked like on the Day of Ash.

Yeah. According to the visuals shown in Season 1, the falling out of Vander and Silco seems to have occured in the past before the Day of Ash, evidenced by how much younger Vander looks. Unless Silco is a time traveller who jumped forward to the future to throw a molotov at the riot because he just loves violent extremism that much, or Vander took the time to shave his beard and apply heavy duty anti-aging lotion on his face before hunting Silco down, there are no plausible in-universe explanations for this inconsistency. Not to mention, if Silco and Vander were really as close as brothers and the sisters knew Vander, then it's impossible they wouldn't have known who Silco was.

Yet, in Season 1, that's exactly what we see - not a single sliver of recognition between Silco and the girls, nothing to imply they knew of his existence before episode 3. Not a single conversation between Jinx and Silco implied that he knew, let alone was close to, her mother. Nothing from Vi throughout the entire first season indicated that she knew of his past friendships with her mother and Vander. They acted like total strangers to each other.

Many fans already caught this inconsistency during the three-year gap after writers' comments online implied Silco was involved in the Day of Ash. We had hoped the writers would catch on to this discrepancy too and either iron out the timeline if they want to do serious flashbacks, or just avoid calling attention to it completely by not doing flashbacks of their falling out. Alas.

2) Leonardo Dicaprio pointing meme

Death to the everybody-knows-everyone trope and lines that only exist to invoke the "Leonardo Dicaprio pointing" meme. Throw them into a fucking fire. Boring, mind-numbing, clichéd, overdone garbage. Not every character needs to have some kind of half-baked relation with each other. Not every major incident needs to be tied back to the main characters. Not every single detail needs to be overexplained and justified and again, somehow tied to a main character. They are unnecessary, and make the world feel so much more claustrophobic and smaller than it should be.

"The enforcers actually commited the Day of Ash massacre because SILCO threw a molotov. Vander actually tried to kill Silco because of VI AND JINX'S mother. She knew both Silco and Vander personally and TOLD THEM to help her raise her kids. VANDER named Vi."

Bullshit like this really fucks with immersion, because it becomes clear very quickly that the world is only occupied by a small handful of real characters while the thousands of other people in it are nothing more than inconsequential set dressing and wallpaper. The story and world no longer feel real, vast, and immersive. And these forced "connections" between main characters are so obviously manufactured to generate "OUGHHH" and Dicaprio pointing reactions. Idk about anyone else, but it takes me completely out of the story when I can obviously tell the writing is trying too hard to blow my mind.

The girls' mom waltzing up to Vander and Silco and just. Fucking telling them to help her with her kids lmfaoooooooo. (OUGHH and they both really ended up raising her kids WOAGH😱🤯). Jinx's mom saying choosing a name is stressful because her child will feel stuck with it (GASP and Powder ended up changing her name WOOOOWW😱). Vander coming up with Vi's fucking name. (OUGHHHH HE REALLY WAS MEANT TO BE FATHER ALL ALONG WOADGHHGHDHDH🤯🤯🤯).

Fucking kill me. Arcane Season 1 was surprisingly good precisely because they DIDN'T, for the most part, resort to tropey bullshit like this. It had, for the most part, originality. Uniqueness. In fact all the strongest aspects of Season 1, aspects I loved, were deliberate subversions of overdone clichés. For Season 2 to resort to this kind of writing reminiscent of Disney slop is insanely disappointing.

I'm waiting for a character to unironically say, "What are we, some kind of League of Legends?" in Act 3 now.

3) "Ohhhhh so THAT'S why he did that!!!!!!!!!"

Also death to overexplanations and giving justifications for things that never needed justifications. You know what I was never confused by while watching Season 1 of Arcane? Why Vander adopted the girls. Why Silco adopted Jinx. Why both came to care for their girls so much, they were willing to sacrifice so much for them. I thought the reasons for those things were very clear and poignant in the first season. I never needed an extra on-the-nose justification for the adoptions in the form of, "they wuved yo mama". It's not only redundant, it's also one of the most tired ass tropes in fiction. To me, Vander taking in the girls and Silco taking in Jinx are so much more powerful if they really were just random guys with no real connection to the girls' parents.

But I've already seen some positive reactions to this flashback with "Ohhhhh so THAT's why Silco/Vander cared for the girls so much, now I understand😯🤯😓" mf what exactly did you not understand before??

4) Character motivations

The motivations of both Vander and Silco are made downright bizarre by this flashback. So Silco was hellbent on murdering Vi last season, despite being close friends with her mom whose death he may feel guilty for? Literally despised her and wanted to kill her the entire time with no hesitation lol. So Vander had that aforementioned dramatic moment of character development, dropped the gauntlets, realized violence wasn't the answer, and carried the kids to safety... then doubled back to violently hunt down and murder Silco? But not before shaving his beard and applying youthful lotion of course. Can't kill your bro while looking crusty. Then he failed to kill Silco so he just... went back to the kids and pretended like nothing happened? Lol.

Silco being close to, let alone loving, the girls' parents makes no fucking sense for his character. Vander knowing them at least makes sense, but casual friends would have sufficed. "I was lowkey crushing (?????) on your mom and also named you" just cheapened the entire Vander/Vi and Silco/Jinx surrogate father dynamic. Vander's motivation for killing Silco being yet another fridged woman is also weak as fuck. First Viktor with Sky, and now Vander/Silco. They really should have left this one up to our imaginations if this was the boring tripe they came up with.

[bunny-jpeg]

all bark, no bite

max verstappen - team principal au

tags: smut/pwp, halloween fic, costumes (reader dresses as a puppy), collars, team principal!max, driver!reader, age gap (20s/40s), power dynamic, semi-public sex, quiet-ish sex, clothed sex, dirty talk

a/n: have a happy halloween, i'm writing more team principal au, if you have any suggestions for future installments, please send them to me. i love hearing what ya'll come up with!!

"you are not going to the party like that." you felt like you were being scolded by your father rather than your boss. you made a face and looked over to see your team principal near by.

you stuck your tongue out, "too bad." then started to walk further away from your driver's room and towards the exit. but, you didn't get far, not while your boss had a longer stride than you.

he captured your wrist and pulled you back, closer to him. in your heels, you staggered backwards. you looked up at him and frowned. he said, "i said, you're not going out like that."

"i don't have another costume." you bit back.

max made a face, "go as a verstappen racing fan. i don't know. but i'm not having you cause a scene because you decided to dress like a whore."

you had a complicated relationship with your team principal. you had seen the jokes over the years of tps having interesting dynamics with drivers, even drivers not on their team. you had even seen memes about your own dynamic with max verstappen.

if only they knew.

he had you pinned to his chest, with his hand on your wrist as he examined your neck from the odd angle. he clicked his tongue and said, "what is this costume even supposed to be?"

you replied, "a puppy."

"a puppy, huh? usually puppies have some manners. they at least look a little apologetic when their owners are mad at them." he sad as he used his other hand to touch at the collar around your neck, "you're not very apologetic towards me."

"you're not my owner."

he replied, "you may not have my name around your neck. but you have my logo across your pretty tits every time you race. i'd say that's about the same thing." you are max verstappen were intimate in a way that would send the press into a heated frenzy. you gave him racing results and he gave you the world.

but he had such a possessive streak through him. a jealous old man. you whined when he held onto your throat a little tighter. you shifted a little under his touch.

he leaned in to kiss you on the lips and squeezed the collar a little, thus squeezing your throat. he groaned, "if you wanted me to fuck you on halloween, you only had to ask." he held on a little tighter.

there was no one else around. there wouldn't be. halloween was on a thursday, practice didn't start till tomorrow. you eventually ended up on the transport boxes with the skirt of your dress hiked up.

you were dressed like a dalmatian, except anyone could make out the shape of your body. max had expectations for you as a driver for his team. he knew what it was like to be young with the world at your fingertips. he was meant to guide you. especially with how everyone recorded anything.

"hoping to get lucky tonight, puppy?" he asked as he pushed the dress up, exposing the thin, white cotton panties underneath. he licked his lips, "we could've gone back to my hotel room and played all night. fetch, tug-o-war, maybe you'd even get a bone by the end of the night." he licked his lips.

your face flushed and you shifted against the metal and plastic of the boxes. the surface was uneven and left your back feeling sore. this felt so public, it wasn't in the most excluded area. you swallowed, "oh my god, shut up." and whined when he kissed at your neck. your panties were around your ankles.

and when he kissed you, you heard the clink of his belt buckle and the zip of his jeans. he loomed over you. he was boarder than you, he could easily overshadow and overpower you. you whined when you felt his cock rub up against your slick entrance.

he said, "aw, look at that. they're kissing." he was talking about his sticky cock up against your slick pussy. the blunt head up against your clit. it made you feel a rush of pleasure through you.

you could feel the excitement, the risk of it all. if some stray reporter came through here or a security guard. you knew what the headlines for the weekend would be.

young, promising driver takes a ride on her team principal.

he sank into your sweet cunt and your ached your back. you let out a small noise and max put a hand over your mouth. your nose was left uncovered so you could breath. his other hand was on your thigh as he rocked against you. he said in a low voice, "you know i love when you're loud, but you have to to stay quiet. you can be a good puppy, right? be a good girl for me."

his praise made something bloom in your stomach as he moved against you. you had a total kink for his praise, that was why you always pushed yourself so hard on the track. it was why you were over a hundred points ahead of the second place racer. you thrived off of it, to have someone like max give you praise.

you moaned against his hand, your voice muffled as he rocked against you. his cock slotted in you so well. you exhaled deeply through your nose. you couldn't feel your headband anymore and hair got in your face as he fucked you in such a public space.

"fuck." he groaned, "you have no idea what you do to me.' he moved against you further, "i never know i liked costumes. maybe next year, you should go as me." he chuckled as he curved over you and got at a deeper angle, "but i sort of like you in a collar better."

you groaned and reached for his shoulders. you clutched onto his shoulder tightly. his cock hit up against the softest parts of you and it made you see stars. you panted heavily and tried to keep quiet even though max's hand was good at muffling most of the noise.

you pretty painted black nails dug into his shoulders through the verstappen racing t-shirt he wore. you looked good with his logo across your chest, but he looked just as nice in a black t-shirt.

hunger ran through you as he fucked your feverishly. there was no time for tenderness. while he loved taking you apart with his tongue and fingers. there really was no time to waste.

you felt the heat on your body, your costume stuck to you in a weird way. the blank tag on your collar bounced with the movements of your boss' thrusts. something about this felt wrong, it was wrong. you were certain there had been casual affairs throughout the decades of formula one.

but nothing quite like this. the protege of one of the greatest being fucked by her boss. your pretty tits bounced with a whorish movements as she got railed in the paddock of her team. quite the scandal if it got out.

most thought you fucked your way to the top. but, in all fairness, max saw how you drove before he saw the sway of your hips. he valued your skill more than your ability to suck his cock or take his thick fingers in your slick pussy.

you were his champion, sex was just a component of it. he took your virginity, and you gave him the points he needed to win. you tightened your legs around him as he continued to drill his cock into you. the pace increased as you felt the swarm of pleasure in your head.

you weren't going to the party tonight. you could already tell.

"next time." he said, "i'll get you a proper collar. something a little more padded. with a tag with my name on it. if you're going to be my puppy then, you'll have to look the party. don't worry about a tail or ears. you'll do just fine in lacy lingerie that i can tear off with my teeth."

you swallowed, your cunt clenched around him as he continued to fuck you with a heavy pace. your felt any sense go out your ear, fully engulfed by the heat between you two. max knew how to make you feel good, he knew exactly how to get your yearning for more. if you were a puppy then he was the big, bad wolf.

you whined around his hand and he pressed his palm further against you. he shushed you and held onto your hip tighter as he thrusted against you. he watched your eyes roll a little from the pleasure of the entire situation.

he could feel the leap in his chest and the sweat on his back. he didn't often fuck you in such a public place. but he couldn't help himself. you got to prance off to some luxury party hosted by drivers of another team. you were going to be with liquor, boys and whatever else money could buy.

of course he was going to be concerned about his darling driver. his superstar. after all, he had high expectations for you. you were going to be the best if you weren't already. and he wasn't going let you ruin it over some cheap shots and boys with small packages. he knew you needed someone older, someone like him.

the pace became faster, erratic with little formalities. there was little rhythm to it as his cock kissed the hottest parts of you. the parts that made you pant under his hand. your gaze became unfocused and your blood pumped in your ears.

you clutched onto him and whined something that max couldn't hear. he replaced his hand with his lips. the kiss was hot as you held onto him tightly. it was all too much, the pleasure crossed through you like a heated sword and you came around his cock.

he groaned when you clenched around him. your nails dug into his skin. it only fueled his need to fuck you harder. while not the most ideal position. he'd make due. when you broke the kiss, you panted heavily with your gaze unfocused. you looked whorish, but max loved it.

the pace continued, and max made sure that your body was wracked with more lust as he continued to fuck you. he cursed in dutch under his breath as he gave it a few more thrusts before he finished inside of you.

you both moaned a little louder than you hoped for. you leaned forward against him. your pressed your cheek against his clothed chest as you tried to catch your breath.

max composed himself quickly and combed his fingers through your hair tenderly. he groaned, "good, puppy."

you looked up at him and asked, "can i go to the party tonight?"

he chuckled and patted your cheek with a little force. he chuckled, "cute. no, no. you're going to get your messy panties back on and we're going back to the hotel. i'm not letting a good puppy like you get into trouble." he pinched your cheek which made you whine.

"plus, i think you need some more training."

-

the following morning, your teammate was walking through the paddock beside you. the two of you were chatting, but your stomach dropped when he looked over and noticed something over one of the boxes.

you two stopped and before your teammate could say a word. your teammate pointed at the headband. you felt a cold sweat as he asked, "are those... dog ears?" then looked at you, "those look like the ones you were supposed to wear to the party last night... you never came to that."

you chuckled nervously, "well, i got tired... but mine are in my hotel room." you heard whistling and looked over to see your team principal walking by. you called for max, "max, isn't my costume in my hotel room."

he perked up and looked over. he pointed to the headband on the box and replied, "oh no.. those are yours." your boss broke into a grin. and your eyes went wide as he walked away.

you could feel your ears burn as your teammate asked.

"where were you last night anyway?" <3

this is part of the max verstappen team principal au

[scoutofmymind]

Reader and Luigi basically being the old married couple of the group. A newcomer finds out that they aren’t actually together and it feels like breaking news because it’s basically assumed by most that they’re together. Maybe it isn’t until one of them starts getting actively pursued by someone else when it starts clicking why it makes them uncomfortable at the idea. Trying to leave this open ended for you.

The Jester’s Fucking the King — {Luigi x Reader }

Content: I’m gonna call this one NSFW— MDNI, friends to lovers, confusing feelings, Luigi has a physical touch fixation, you’re his fidget toy, fr tho, emotional manipulation lowkey, just a pinch (if you squint) of dirty talk, kinda love triangle

Wc: 3,458

Notes: yourself and Luigi have been Inseparable for six years, and the introduction of a new friend into the group throws a wrench into everything.

Before we start, I wanna make a quick note about the title, and where the hell it came from (lol). I was inspired by a tumblr post I came across awhile ago, and it stuck with me, I guess, because I randomly thought of it while I was writing this. That’s all. Enjoy xo

I took this and ran with it.

As usual.

"Who's this guy that she's bringing again?" you ask to the car at large, slumped in the backseat between your roommate Scarlett and the window. Your thumb swipes across your phone screen, watching Chloe’s location dot inch its way across the map while Luigi maneuvers through traffic and Ben fidgets with the radio from the passenger seat.

"I dunno, some guy she met in her new sculpture class this semester," Luigi mumbles through a barely-concealed grimace. The thought of adding another person to their carefully balanced social ecosystem clearly weighs on him. You know he's already mentally rehearsing his nice to meet you smile, the kind that takes more energy than he's willing to spend on a random Tuesday night.

"It'd better not be that kid Cole," you mutter, already dreading the possibility.

And because the universe has a cruel sense of humor, it was absolutely, undeniably, that kid Cole.

It hardly mattered what preconceived notions you’d had about him; they dissolved over time as Chloe started bringing him around more often.

The traits you once found annoying gradually morphed into something oddly endearing.

Still, he never quite seemed to understand the dynamic between you and Luigi.

On movie nights, when the six of you crammed into the living room, a messy sprawl of friends and blankets overtaking the couch and floor, you naturally claimed your usual spot; sprawled out across Luigi’s lap. Tonight was no different. You laid there with your back propped against the arm of the couch, scrolling through Instagram while your bottom half stretched longways over him, as if his lap had always been yours to occupy.

Every so often, you’d interrupt the movie to show him a meme or a video a mutual friend had sent. You’d lean in close, shoulders brushing, stifling your laughter together so as not to disturb the others watching John Wick. “That’s fucked up,” he muttered through a barely-contained chuckle, his eyes still on your phone screen.

Madison lives at home, her daily subway commute to campus a small price to pay for access to her parents' sprawling estate. Their backyard is a mediterranean dream, with a pool large enough to host the entire group of misfits, with room to spare.

You're draped over Luigi as he meanders around the pool's edge, both arms curved naturally around your waist beneath the waster. It's the kind of casual intimacy that comes from years of friendship, comfortable and worn-in. "Cole's actually pretty cool," he muses, tilting his head back expectantly.

You comply with the wordless request, holding the La Croix to his lips so he doesn't have to lift his hands from the water.

"Yeah," you agree, your eyes drifting across the pool to where Cole is pretending not to watch this whole exchange. His gaze darts away the moment yours meets his, like a kid caught stealing. "I really did think he was annoying at first, though."

Scarlett’s birthday party, your arms wrapped around Luigi’s waist, your head tucked beneath his arm as you swayed together and sang happy birthday. The whine as you shared a piece of cake, something about how “Luigi won’t even kiss me in public.” When someone said the two of you would have won prom king and queen if you went to the same high school.

Ben’s party followed just weeks later, the night still young and champagne bubbling through your veins. Luigi's hand clamped desperately over your mouth, but your eyes danced with mischief as you nodded enthusiastically at the circle gathered around you. "Yeah, Lu's got a PhD," you managed to say, and before he could stop you, the words tumbled out against his palm: "A pretty huge dick."

Cole watched.

"Did you know Cassie is seeing Dylan?" Cole asked, matching your frantic pace across campus. The morning fog swallowed your mumbled recitations as you mentally rehearsed your presentation for the hundredth time.

"Yeah, Cole, and I'm fucking Luigi.” you scoffed, the sarcasm dripping over every word like sticky molasses as you rolled your eyes. You yanked open the auditorium doors, disappearing behind them without a backward glance, mind already racing ahead to bullet points and transitions.

The very idea that Cole would believe such obvious campus gossip had you shaking your head as you slid into your seat.

But he did believe it.

He stood frozen in the hallway you'd left him in, staring at the closed doors like they might offer some explanation. "Yeah? I know.” he mumbled to your ghost, the words settling confused and heavy in the empty corridor.

The absolute certainty in his voice would have made you laugh, if you'd been there to hear it.

The seasons had shifted, and with them, Cole's hope had quietly ebbed away. After months of watching you, he'd finally accepted what everyone else seemed to know instinctively — even if Luigi wasn't in the picture, you were simply out of reach.

Saturday night found your usual crew at your claimed table in Madison’s backyard, the surface cluttered with emptied drinks and scattered Uno cards. Luigi absently twisted the rings on your fingers — a mindless habit he'd developed somewhere between freshman year and now — while chaos erupted around you.

The familiar symphony of shouted accusations about who was hiding the Draw Four cards mixed with the glow of phones being passed around, TikToks and screenshots sparking new waves of laughter.

Cole watched the way Luigi's fingers danced over yours, and for the first time, the sight didn't sting quite so much.

“I still can't believe Dylan and Cassie are dating," Cole mused through a cloud of smoke, beer bottle dangling precariously from his left hand while a joint was stuffed between the fingers on his right.

The table fell silent, five pairs of eyes fixing on him with varying degrees of confusion and amusement.

"Who told you that?" Scarlett's voice cut through the stunned silence and the resurrection of a dead and gone campus rumor, her phone screen illuminating her face as Dylan's name flashed across it. "Where did you even hear that?"

Cole's eyes pinballed around the table, finally landing on you and Luigi.

Your hand was caught in one of Luigi's absent-minded gestures, knuckles pressed against his lips while he listened — a habit so commonplace to everyone else that they'd stopped noticing years ago. "Uh— wait—" Cole fumbled, taking a desperate pull from the joint as if the answer might be hiding in the smoke. He passed it to his left and asked through a cough, "Are they not?"

“No, you idiot.” Scarlett threw a lighter at him, which he narrowly dodged.

"Well- why did- “Cole's words stumbled over each other as he locked eyes with you across the table. Your brows knitted together, genuinely bewildered by his desperation. "I- you said they were," he insisted, hand gesturing vaguely in your direction like a drowning man reaching for a life raft.

Scarlett's head whipped toward you so fast her earrings clinked, a new lighter in her hand that was suddenly transformed into a weapon of interrogation, the flame pointed in your direction. "You what?"

"I didn't say that!" Your hands flew up defensively, face flushing as you ransacked your memory for any conversation that could've led to this moment.

But your mind offered nothing but static.

"I asked you if you could believe they were- and-“Cole gestured helplessly at Luigi, who was studying your profile with the intense focus of someone who'd stopped processing verbal language three hits ago. His fingers hadn't stopped their absent dance with your rings once you lowered your hands again from your surrender to Scarlett’s mercy, muscle memory outlasting coherent thought.

Cole felt like he'd stumbled into an alternate dimension where everyone spoke a language he'd never learned while those same pairs of eyes dissected him with the kind of judgment only drunk twenty-somethings could muster, making him feel about two inches tall. "And you said 'yeah, and I'm fucking Luigi,'" he defended weakly, the words sounding more ridiculous with each passing second.

"Yeah!" You practically launched across the table, laughter threatening to bubble over as understanding finally dawned. "Because I'm not!" The force of your declaration nearly knocked over someone's beer, but you were too busy watching Cole's face transform as the shoe finally, finally dropped.

Luigi, for his part, just kept twisting your rings, lost somewhere between the fourth dimension and your knuckles.

Cole's jaw went slack, his eyes darting around the table again where this time everyone had suddenly developed an acute interest in hiding their smirks behind their hands — a masterclass in delayed politeness. "What?" He practically shoved the joint away when it circled back, as if too-late sobriety might make this make more sense. "But- but the dick size jokes and- and you tell everyone he won't kiss you in public."

"Oh, you poor thing." Chloe dabbed at her eyes, tears of mirth threatening to ruin her mascara. "She's always done that shit." The words came out half-strangled by suppressed laughter.

Months passed, and Cole transformed into your personal guardian angel. One desperate NEED SUGAR NOW OR DEATH text to the group chat, and he'd materialize with your favorite convenience store candy before anyone else had even read the message.

He collected details about you: the way your nose scrunched at certain perfumes, how you could quote every line from that one movie, the specific shade of purple that made your eyes light up. When he finally told you he liked you — really liked you, more than he'd ever liked anyone — you said you liked him too.

The gravitational shift was subtle at first — like planets realigning. Your usual perch in Luigi's lap gradually migrated to the chair beside Cole, a transition so natural that few noticed, not even you.

It came to a head one Saturday when Luigi texted his absence from movie night, claiming a sudden illness.

The excuse was paper-thin, and you both knew it.

You stood outside his building, jabbing the buzzer with the familiarity of someone who'd done this a thousand times before. "I know you're not sick, Luigi." Your voice crackled through the intercom, bouncing off the walls of his apartment where he lay curled into himself on the sofa, rigid as rigor mortis. "I can see your Oura ring stats." The betrayal of technology made him groan, and the offending ring went sailing across the room, a tiny meteor of exposed lies.

His father knows the developer.

That's the only reason he'd agreed to wear the damn thing — a circular shackle of obligations that now betrayed him from somewhere under his coffee table.

Your finger finds the buzzer again, gentler this time.

"C'mon, bub. I miss you." The sweetness in your voice hits him like a sucker punch, memories of simpler times wrapped in those words. "It can be me and you tonight. We can have a bestie night." The offer dangles like a Time Machine to the past — back when your world was just two planets in perfect orbit, before it expanded into a solar system of friends.

Before Cole ever came around.

Luigi appears in the doorway like a ghost, just as you're about to admit defeat. Your face splits into a grin, but it falters when you really look at him. "God." Your eyes track the sharp edges of his collarbones beneath his shirt. "Have you been eating?" The question trails behind you as you follow him up the familiar path to the second floor.

The apartment feels wrong — like walking into a black and white version of a color photograph you know by heart. Every blind drawn tight against the afternoon sun, as if he's been developing emotional negatives in the dark. "Hey, what's going on?" Your fingers find his forearm, anchoring him before he can drift away again. "This is kinda giving me flashbacks to when you failed your final."

He flinches like you've pressed on a bruise, eyes scanning his self-made darkness as if seeing it for the first time - the familiar choreography of his pain laid bare by your observation. "This definitely feels different from that." His voice comes out hollow, each word carefully chosen to dance around the real issue.

"Better, or worse?"

"I don't know."

He sinks back into his spot on the couch, the oversized blanket making him look smaller than you've ever seen him. His eyes fix on the half-finished Lego set on his coffee table — the Millennium Falcon he'd started weeks ago, now collecting dust mid-construction.

Three hundred pieces still sealed in their bags, waiting.

"Is it your mom?" you try, but Luigi shakes his head. "Is it school?" Another head shake. "Work?" No. "Was it your aunt Lisa again? That bitch—" He cuts you off with another shake. "Is it me?"

The question hangs there, and Luigi pulls the blanket tighter around his shoulders, refusing to meet your eyes.

He lets out a long breath, knowing he's trapped himself here — in this moment, in this conversation, in this truth he's been avoiding.

No way out.

"What?" You cross the room in three quick strides, dropping beside him and tugging at the blanket he's using as camouflage. "What do you mean, Lu? C'mon." Your hands search for any part of him that isn't wrapped in fleece, but he's determined to stay hidden. "What did I do?"

Luigi's eyes catch yours for a fraction of a second before darting away. "I really just want to sleep." The words come out muffled as he tries to fold himself smaller, but you're faster, yanking the blanket down before he can disappear completely. "Please."

"Luigi.” Your voice cracks, and you don't try to hide it. You've never had to beg him for anything before, not in all your years of friendship. "I can't leave knowing you're upset with me." It's the rawest truth you have, stripped down to its bare bones on the couch cushions between you. "Come on. Talk to me."

The silence grows so thick you could suffocate in it, until Luigi finally breaks it with a mumble. "How come you only make jokes about fucking me?" His throat works visibly before he adds, "And not anyone else?"

The question hits you like a slap. Your eyes drift across his coffee table, taking inventory — the joint still smoldering in the ashtray, his anti-anxiety meds beside it, a forgotten Gatorade from the night before.

Everything a testament to hours spent alone with his thoughts.

You drag in a deep breath, searching for words you've never had to examine before. "I mean — that's what we do, you know-"

"No," he cuts you off, voice sharpened. "It's what you do."

"Lu." Your spine straightens as confusion settles in. "Why is this suddenly an issue? I've always- I've always made those kind of jokes about us. How everyone thinks we're dating all the time." You stretch yourself forward, trying to catch his eye, but he keeps his gaze fixed somewhere on the floor. "I just lean into it, I guess. I didn't know it bothered you."

He sighs, the sound muffled as he drags his hands down his face. "It doesn't bother me."

"Then," frustration bleeds into your voice as you throw your hands up, lost in whatever conversation he's having three steps ahead of you. "What do you fucking mean?"

"I- I mean-" His tongue clicks against his teeth, each word coming slow like he's translating from another language. "It doesn't bother me in that way."

"In what way?"

"In the way that means you saying you'd fuck me bothers me."

"But you just said it bothers you."

"No,” he says, “I didn't."

Heat rises up your neck as your patience frays.

Your mind twists itself into knots trying to decode whatever puzzle he's laying out between you. "Look at me." The command comes out sharper than intended as you try to yank the blanket away from him. "Fucking look at me!"

The blanket rips from your hands with unexpected force, sending you sprawling onto his hardwood floor. Your oversized sweater is the only thing saving your tailbone from a bruising. "You fucking asshole." The words come out hot as you fumble for your boots to put over the socks that betrayed you in their slipperiness, and just as you manage to wrangle one on, Luigi emerges from his cocoon, fixing you with a look that stops you cold.

"I mean I guess-“ He clears his throat, looking down at you with that familiar steady gaze, but there's something different layered over it now, something raw. "I mean- Why wouldn't you fuck me?"

The question hits like a fist to the cheekbones.

You freeze, one boot half-laced, mouth hanging open as heat floods you to your temples.

Of all the directions this could have gone, you never expected this brand of brutal honesty, delivered while you're sprawled ungracefully on his living room floor and wrestling with your shoelaces.

Your eyes dart between the coffee table and his face, pieces clicking together with nauseating clarity. "What kind of question is that?" The words come out sharp as your fingers hook uselessly around your boot laces.

"Well, what kind of joke is it to go around telling everyone we fuck?" He throws your logic back at you with devastating precision. "What's so funny about that?"

You bury your face in your hands, a groan muffled against your palms. Every memory floods back at once — all those times he tried to stop you from making dick jokes, all those moments people assumed you were dating and you played it up while he went quiet.

Six years of friendship viewed through this new lens makes your stomach lurch, and another heavy sigh tears from your chest.

"Can you at least tell me?" Luigi's voice comes out barely above a whisper, watching you curled up on his floor like a wounded animal.

You finally lift your head, meeting his stare head-on. "Do you want me to say I'd fuck you?"

The silence wraps around you both like a physical thing, but his eyes stay locked on yours even as color floods his cheeks. "Huh?" You arch an eyebrow, challenging. "Want me to say how hard I'd do it?" Your discarded boot connects with his shin. "How I know you whimper."

As if on cue, a small sound escapes him — half whine, half breath. He's still staring at you like you've knocked all the air from his lungs, struck speechless while you press your newfound advantage.

You move closer, settling between his knees as the blanket slips from his shoulders. With gentle pressure, you ease him back against the couch. "Want me to tell you how none of it was ever really a joke?" Your hand rests against his chest, feeling his heartbeat race beneath your palm. "How every time that you felt me push my ass against your dick wasn’t just your imagination?”

Luigi reaches for you then, fingers trembling as they find your skin — reverent and careful. He's always been tactile with you, always finding excuses to be close. He knows the map of your hands better than you do, how your breathing changes when you drift to sleep, all the little things that make you who you are. "I knew it," he whispers as you settle against him, both of you finally exactly where you're meant to be.

You'd spent so long pushing these thoughts away, rationalizing every touch as just his nature — absent patterns traced on your skin during movies, fingers intertwined during conversations, gentle pressure points mapped across your arms during lengthy lectures.

Each gesture filed away as mindless habit.

But this was different. Every point of contact now carried weight, intention.

"I'd fuck you too," Luigi murmurs, drawing you closer, face pressed against your sweater. His hands spread warm and steady across your back, holding you like something precious, something he's afraid might slip away. “And I’d whine as much as you wanted.”

The next week comes floating by once again, Cole hurrying beside you as you rush to your next lecture, desperately trying to untangle your earbuds, hearing Luigi’s voice echo in your mind, laughing at you for your resistance toward Bluetooth devices. “I - I wanted to see if maybe you wanted to-“

“I’m fucking Luigi.” You turn to Cole, your expression deadpan but fixed, serious but not all that concerned before the doors of the auditorium are flung open, and once again, you vanish behind them.

Cole bursts into a fit of giggles at the thought, realizing now that believing such a thing would be mean he was naive — he’s since learned from his mistakes. “Yeah.” He murmurs to himself, “And Cassie and Dylan are still dating.”