#every time i feel rushed for whatever reason to finish this thing i'm like. but it will keep me busy until s3

[blairamok]

i think whatever i did to my neck is finally giving way, and hopefully i can finish editing this chap and get it posted soon, just in time for worlds this week!!

[nikitaxlee]

"𝖒𝖞 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊"

✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀

ᴊᴀᴋᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ₊˙♡﹗˚ ༘

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: ᴀɴɢsᴛ, sᴜɪᴄ!ᴅᴇ, ᴄʜᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ, ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ, ɪɴᴛᴇɴsᴇ sᴄᴇɴᴇs, ɢᴏʀᴇ.

𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴: 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘫𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦. ₊˙♡﹗˚ ༘

ᴍᴜsɪᴄ: ᴀ ʙᴏʏ ɪs ᴀ ɢᴜɴ*- ᴛʏʟᴇʀ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴏʀ

ᴘᴜᴘᴘᴇᴛ - ᴛʏʟᴇʀ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴏʀ

ᴛᴀɢs: @hwanchaesong here you are babes😊

✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀

letter from reader

I didn't know why I so badly wanted him to go away that first time he talked to me. Maybe it was the way he always looked at me like one looks at a meal. Knowing he'll enjoy it in the moment but in the end he'll need a new meal preferably different than the one he had the night before, whatever the reason was, I was right to have wanted him gone. A small roadblock in my life. The night I caught him was the night I died. The day that car was speeding faster and faster until it hit that tree, figuratively and literally. That was the best way to describe me and Jakes relationship. Exhilerating in the moment but doomed from the start. A fucking trainwreck. Maybe that was why I loved him. Still do love him. God did I love every intoxicating moment of bittersweet hapiness. A paradox isn't it? A girl who loved and a boy who didn't. Perfect fucking match.

Jake, my love, why didn't you love me? I gave you everything and more. I wanted the kind of love you have for soccer, for layla, and you're stupid fucking PC that you would fucking waste time on. You know what they all had in common? You all loved them unconditionally. I. Gave. You. Everything. And as you read this I am giving you my life. Because, Jake, love, this is the last thing I do to prove I love you, to prove I can't live without you. God, even if you never loved me. As long as you were there... Please, my love, come visit me when I'm gone, at least once. I want you to love me when I'm gone, but I don't think that will happen. So this is where I say goodbye Jake, my pretty boy. Give Layla extra kisses for me. I love you.

---

1:02 A.M

When Jake made his way to the kitchen, unfamiliar body still tangled in his sheets, he didn't feel anything but numb. The look in your eyes as you opened the door to see him 8 inches deep in someone that wasn't you. In the moment it gave him this sick satisfaction of seeing you hurt. But he couldn't help but wonder if he had perhaps taken this game he played a little to far. Although the two of you weren't necessarily dating, you had a somewhat exclusive relationship. And he loved seeing the tears well in your eyes as he hurt you intentionally just to see run back to him. This wasn't the first time he had called you over here when he had a girl over. he loved seeing you break little by little. In his own sick world, he thought it would cause you to stay by his side.

The floorboards creaked as he made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen to grab some food. He would have to kick the girl out of his bed before you came back in about an hour he guessed. The second he stepped into the kitchen a feeling of dread rushed over him. He didn't notice anything amiss in the kitchen. Except the envelop sitting on the counter with the lighter he gave you for your birthday. The one thing you had from him. You had never reacted this way, usually you would just send him a text letting him know when you'd be back and to text you when he was done. As he pocketed the lighter and opened the letter he noticed the rushed handwriting right away, with bits scribbled out. He started reading and with each word his heart dropped. Each sentence was a stab in the heart. When he moved onto the next paragraph he started connecting the dots on what you were about to do. He didn't even finish the second paragraph before he was in his car.

1:10 A.M

"Fuck, Fuck, FUCK." He screamed. This could not be happening to him. Contrary to popluar belief, he really did love you, he just had a fucked up way of showing it. His tears streamed down his face as he sped to your house. "Y/N I swear to god, please, please, hold on for me baby, I'm so fucking sorry." he was going at least 15 over the limit right now. He entered the bridge before getting on the highway, and that was when he noticed the crowd of first responders on the highway. He was no longer crying just pure terror overcame him as he recognized the car lodged in the tree. The entire 3 lanes were blocked off but he still pulled up to the site. "Baby, baby, no no no NO" He quickly hopped out his car as his phone blew up with texts from the members;

Jay: JAKE, TELL ME THAT ISN'T Y/N'S CAR ON THE NEWS RN

Jungwon: oh god

Ni-Ki: call us now

10 new messages

12:25 A.M

Y/N: Hey Jake, js letting you know I'm going to be running a bit late, I'm picking up some food on the way over, wanna watch a movie? :)

12:36

Y/N: Omw, i picked up sushi!

Y/N: Is the key in the usual spot?

He felt like throwing up as his vision cleared and saw you laying there on the concrete paramedics rushing around you as others are currently performing CPR on you. For some reason he couldn't bring himself to run for you, just slowly shuffling towards the scene. He felt like he had just died and started seeing it all in 3rd person, him slowly walking towards you, the paramedics. Then he was running, almost reaching you but not before the police pulled him back.

"HEY THIS IS A SCE-" "THAT'S MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND!" He said as he dropped to his knees and cried.

The policeman just held him back as he thrashed and watched as the paramedics put the white sheet over you and spoke.

"Time of death 1:46, died due to imapct to the head flying through the windshield, suspected suicide due to last text messages to family."

'No, no, she can't be-" he sputtered and hyperventilated.

"Ch-check again" he said to no one in particular.

The letter you left crushed in his hand.

✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀

A/N: Moral of the story don't take your roomates cinnabon or it's on sight. One ❤️= One Cinnabon for me🥹₊˙♡﹗˚ ༘

[p1nkshield]

Estranged Uncle Au Part 3!

Jazz sat down with Danny while Clark was finishing up dinner.

“Maybe we can just tell him and he can like adult his way out of it? He is a grown man.”

Jazz and Danny looked to Clark as he seasoned the stew he was making, he turned around, kitten sneezed into his elbow and said. “Gosh! Pepper can really get you! Who are you talking about? Is anyone in trouble?”

Jazz and Danny shared a look. This guy couldn’t hurt a fly if he wanted to.

“We have to tell him Danny.”

“Okay, fine! We looked into Bru-” Danny began, but was interrupted by Clark’s phone ringing.

“Hello? … I’m on my way.” There was a noticeable change in Clark’s demeanor. “Can this wait? I uh.. have to cover one of Bruce’s galas!” Clark really does hate lying.

“I haven’t heard word of Bruce throwing another gala today.” Jazz stated in the same tone she would question Danny when he would poorly lie to her.

“It’s uh last minute! Exclusive! All the more reason to to report about it!” Clark said as he rushed out the door. "The stew will be done in about fifteen minutes!"

Before either of them could do anything Clark was already gone.

"He clearly doesn’t know how to uphold his boundaries! Its like Bruce says jump and Clark says how high! What is he making him do? Why does he feel the need to lie to us?" Jazz was suddenly so worried about an uncle she didn’t know she had like a week ago.

"He's not telling us because were just kids. I don’t know if he really has anyone to turn to but he doesn’t want to worry us. We have to help him."

Clark finished thwarting another one of Lex's plans with Bruce.

"Bats can I talk to you for a second?"

"hn?"

"You know the two teens staying at my home for the time being?"

"Jazmine and Daniel Fenton. Your niece and nephew correct?"

"...yeah they didn’t get the best impression of Bruce Wayne."

"How so?"

"I overheard that they think that Bruce Wayne is a creepy billionaire who isn't who he says he is. They also are the children of my sister who is a scientist of questionable ethics from last I heard."

Bruce cannot have a repeat Tim situation.

"Perhaps Bruce could pay them another visit to smooth things over?"

"That is some really good advice! I'll ask him if he can come over tomorrow." Clark asked facetiously

"I think he can make it. Maybe he could bring some of his kids in order to help them feel more at ease with people their age?"

"That sounds like a great idea."

It was not a great idea.

Danny was Bristling like a cat at Bruce and Jazz had a sour look on her face.

Almost every 'i'm harmless' stop was pulled. Bruce tripped on his way in, and called the kids he brought by their cutest of pet names. Bruce decided to bring Dick, Jason and Timothy. Dick pulled dazzling smiles and showed off his acrobatics in an attempt to entertain. This was met with polite but paltry claps. Jason who had been bribed to be on his best behavior talked at length with Jazz about classic authors and their best works. This headway was halted when Bruce called him Jaylad and Jason took it as a queue to do the who "Dad stawwwp!" embarrassed teenager routine. Jazz responded by becoming pale for a moment and being less receptive to whatever Jason was saying.

Tim was a disaster.

At first he was doing great bringing out all of his gala training. He even noticed Danny wasn't feeling the formalities he dropped them. It was working! Then he fell asleep. Into the snacks that were put out.

"Maybe we should go! It’s already pretty late, and we wouldn’t want to overstay our welcome." Bruce said still smiling as he wiped salsa off of the cheek of a blearily blinking Tim.

"Wha? What happened?" Tim said as he was ushered out of the door.

"You fell asleep idiot!"

"I did!?!"

Clark, Danny and Jazz heard them bicker on their way to the car. I would have been endearing if Clark wasn’t worried sick and Jazz and Danny weren’t convinced that they were in the family business of selling weapons to villains.

"So what do you think?"

"The eldest seems sleazy, the Second seemed nice but gave me a bad vibe and the youngest felt like he was doing everything he can to get Danny to like him and then passed out." Jazz listed.

"Not to mention they all seemed like they were doing everything they could to get us on their good side!" Danny added.

This is not good! Why do they hate him so much? What had Bruce done that was so off-putting?

"Uncle Clark, we need you to sit down."

What is this now? Clark let himself be pushed into a chair. Isn’t this what people do when they say something that might make them pass out?

"We have reason to believe that Bruce Wayne is a weapons dealer."

Bruce? A weapons dealer?

"Danny please show him the evidence."

Evidence?

Danny then showed Bruce the bits and pieces of confidential information.

Clark sat there taking it all in.

"We think that you may be in danger." Jazz said gently.

Him, danger?

"We keep trying to hack him but it's not really working."

"YOU HACKED HIM?!"

"We weren’t traced." Jazz soothed.

"We can get you out of this Uncle Clark." Danny said with much more assurance that his appearance can promise.

"I don't think you understand!" Clark began "I'm not in danger I can't be in danger!"

"Uncle Clark, anyone can be in danger."

Clark's head was spinning.

How was he going to convince two headstrong teens that he wasn't under the thumb of an evil billionaire with out telling them he's Superman?

[echo-rambles]

somewhere among the pines

words: 4,807 tags: witch!reader, werewolf!chan, ghost!seungmin and roommate!seungmin. fluff. mentions of an injury. vague allusions to soulmatism, if you squint and believe real hard. mentions of magic. notes: I finished it in time! I feel like there are bits where you can tell I rushed, but overall I'm very happy with it. this is also the longest reader insert I've ever written, so I hope you enjoy! Happy Halloween! [ao3 link]

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡ ･ﾟ✧:･.:-

The veil between worlds is thin this time of year. You know this to be true; a fact of your world that you learned when you were very young. 

Every October, the veil begins to thin. Odd things happen all year around, especially for someone like you, but the month of October brings with it a rise of the unexplainable. Or, perhaps unexplainable isn’t the correct word, since you’re very good at explaining the weird and unknown. 

This is a very long explanation for the fact that your roommate and possibly the best friend you’ve ever had, is incredibly corporeal in the days leading up to All Hallow’s Eve. What’s it say about you that you consider a ghost to be your best friend? That’s honestly a can of worms you don’t really want to open right now. 

Normally, your very dead and very spectral friend spends most of the calendar year as a phantom entity in your home. He can speak to you and possibly move small objects around if he concentrates. But for the most part he’s a ghost.

October is his favorite time of year. Yours too, for completely different reasons, but you can’t deny that you also find great joy in watching Seungmin move everything he can get his hands on simply because he can.

It also means the pranks increase tenfold, because now he’s tangible and can do so many more things. He has to get it all in before November rolls back around, severing the strong connection to the worlds beyond. 

“I think your neighbor is weird.” Seungmin says, from his spot by your kitchen window.

He’s wearing a horrendously large sweater that he must have found at the back of your closet, and it almost swallows him whole. Completely covering the shorts he constantly wears. 

He’s also holding your favorite mug. It’s empty, but he’s still clutching it to his chest as if he’s ready at any moment to sip at his morning coffee. You decide to let him have this, knowing that he only truly gets to experience big sweaters and mugs in his hands once a year. 

“Because you’re so normal.”

“I am.” He defends, immediately, glaring at you. “I was. ”

“You were the most normal boy in the orphanage?”

“It was a university for gifted students.”

Teasing him about his life before has become normal between the two of you. After that first year, after you both learned how to coexist in the same space without upended chairs or banishing spells, he finally told you his story. About his university that burned down decades ago with him inside of it. How the land that your house now occupies was once part of the sprawling campus. 

It’s another reason you let him raid your closet every October. It has to be a certain type of hell to spend the rest of your unlife looking like you’re always ready to attend afternoon lectures in plaid shorts and suspenders and shoes with little buckles on them. 

Ignoring his glaring attention, you turn back to the pot you have on the stove. It’s starting to boil aggressively, so you make sure to jam in some cinnamon sticks before wrestling the cover onto it. 

“Can you stop spying on my neighbor? He has nothing to do with you.”

Seungmin glides over to peer over your shoulder. “Whatever, but he is weird. Did you burn dinner?”

“It’s meant to be a spell and no, it’s not burnt. Sorry, are you the professional in the kitchen?”

“Are you?”  

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡ ･ﾟ✧:･.:-

Maybe Seungmin was right. Maybe your neighbor is weird. 

You watch, from the same kitchen window Seungmin was staring out of a few days ago, as your neighbor comes out of the woods surrounding your properties shirtless and running. It’s a routine of his that you’ve noticed. In a completely normal way, mind you. 

It's not like you're an obsessive stalker or anything. You just happen to notice things. Especially things that follow a pattern. 

He’s the type of guy that goes running at night, and he always takes the path that cuts through the woods that creeps at the edge of your shared backyards. 

Maybe jogging at night isn’t a completely odd thing, but he’s also shirtless, and it’s the tail end of October. The nights are getting colder, with winter nipping at the heels of autumn. That can’t be normal. 

It’s also a routine that you only began clocking at the beginning of the month. He’s lived in the house next door since the spring, and you’ve noticed him jogging through the neighborhood every now and then. He seemed like the athletic type, so you didn’t think much of it. 

But the nightly jogs through the forest only really became a thing during the first week of the month. At first it didn't seem like anything too different. Seungmin, who never actually sleeps, commented on it but you waved him off. He loved to gossip and get into people’s business. He was possibly the nosiest ghost you ever met. 

But as the nights went by, you became more aware of it. 

You’d like nothing more than to chalk it up to Seungmin as the one being weird, but if you squint you swear there really is something peculiar about him. It’s in the way the air moves around him, you think. It feels impossible to put into words, but there’s something about it that’s just a little unexplainable. 

Once you notice, it's almost impossible to stop noticing it. Which is incredibly frustrating.

Your neighbor approaches his back stairs, and slows to a stop. You watch as he lets out a long breath and stretches his back. As he turns, he catches sight of you in the window. It’s too late to try and move away, pretending you weren’t absolutely staring, so when he offers you a wave, you have to return it. 

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡ ･ﾟ✧:･.:-

The next night you curl up on the single patio chair you have on your back porch. It’s barely a porch, really. There’s enough room for a chair and a small table and not much else. 

You wait, quietly, as the stars twinkle above the tree tops and the night becomes as quiet as it can in a neighborhood that’s not urban enough for constant traffic and city noises, but also not rural enough for the silence that only comes with living far enough away from people. It’s the odd sort of in between world. Ambient sounds of a car passing a handful of streets away. Someone’s dog is barking in the distance. You hear a pair of voices from the front of your house, as they walk past on the sidewalk, their voices fade away the farther they get. 

The moon shines brightly from its spot in the sky. It’s not a full moon just yet, you can tell by the subtle shape of it and the calendar on your phone. It’ll reach its zenith in a few days, just shy of Halloween. 

Finally, your neighbor comes out from the sparse woods. Shirtless as always. You try, and fail, not to stare. 

(“He’s kind of hot.” Seungmin had said, that first night he had called him weird, after returning to the window. “Almost upsettingly so.”) 

You were trying to be a polite and respectful neighbor and not oggle him. But Seungmin was so entirely correct. It really is upsetting how good looking he is. 

“Hey.” You greet, grabbing his attention as you call out. You move forward, resting your arms against the railing and leaning just enough over the side so you can see him better. 

“Oh, hi.” He answers, blinking at you before waving. When he smiles he has a dimple. You can see it in the porch light. 

“My roommate thinks you’re weird.” Might as well get to the point, instead of trying to find an excuse to speak to him.

That makes him laugh. Loud and full and it warms you up from the inside out. 

“I’m sorry?” 

“No need to apologize for him projecting.” 

“Uh- ok. Noted. Do you share your roommate’s opinion or…?” His voice dips, like he’s trying to make it sound like a joke but he’s also extremely curious. 

You can taste it on the wind. It’s that same sort of something about him that you noticed before, but now it’s more pronounced. Now that there isn’t a window or a driveway between you. He’s drifted closer to your porch, titling his head a bit, and you, tipping your gaze down. 

It tastes a little like ozone and petrichor. Like the aftershocks of a storm deep in the forest. Woodsy and warm and sharp. It gets stuck at the back of your mouth, up into your nose. The sort of taste that has a smell and vice versa. 

He tastes like magic. 

“I haven’t really decided yet.” You tell him, keeping all of your thoughts locked tightly away. You wait a beat, watching his smile settle, before you introduce yourself. 

“You can call me Chan. It’s nice to meet you.” 

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡ ･ﾟ✧:･.:-

A few days before All Hallow’s Eve, you’re awoken by a hand on your shoulder. The feeling is so foreign you’re immediately awake, sitting up with your heart in your throat, blinking away the dizziness of sleep.

Seungmin is leaning over your bed, his mouth set into a perpetual frown. Wearing a terry cloth robe over his school uniform and a pair of slippers in the shape of puppies that you specially bought for him. 

“There’s a dog at your door.”

“What?” You're not awake enough to parse that sentence. 

He rolls his eyes. “There is a dog, and it’s on the back porch.” 

“...what?”

“I’m not repeating myself again. Do something about it, because it’s kind of creeping me out.”

“Creeping you out?" You question, because it feels like an incredibly ironic thing for Seungmin to be saying. "Aren’t you meant to be the creepy thing?” 

“It’s my night off.” He says, before walking away. Leaving you blinking and confused. 

There’s a dog? At your door?

What the fuck does he mean by that? You check the time as you're crawling out of bed and into a pair of house slippers. What is a dog doing on your porch at three in the morning? 

The house is dark and quiet as you shuffle down the stairs and through both the living room and kitchen. The only sound is the soft, almost haunting noise of Seungmin singing to himself somewhere else in the house. 

As you get closer to the back of your house, you can just barely make out a dark shape outside of the window. The moonlight seems to cast it in silhouette, and the curtains drawn over the window blur the outline.

Creeping closer, you quietly try to peek behind the curtain and out onto the porch. Holding your breath, you chance a look. Any other time of year, you might have taken your roommates word for it that there was just some dog outside. But you can never be too careful about the things lurking in the dark so close to the 31st. 

At first you can't really make out what it is. It's just a large shape. Made out of shadow as it shifts around and almost knocks over your chair. Your heart crawls its way back up into your throat at the sheer size of it. 

It's as you're trying to figure out what the fuck you're meant to do in situations like this, and also wondering why your protection wards don't seem to work against this thing, when it moves and catches the light. 

You're still keyed up, because you still can't find an explanation, but there's a sliver of relief at recognizing what the shape is. 

Sitting there, sniffing at the little potted plants you have balanced on the porch railing, is a massive animal. Seungmin called it a dog but it looks so much bigger. 

It has the proportions of a wolf, maybe. You've seen wolves before, on television and that one time you went to a wolf sanctuary up north. You have a rough estimate of what they're meant to look like. Except this wolf looks as if someone clicked and dragged at the edges and enlarged it. 

When it moves to turn, trying to be oh so careful of the small space it's found itself in, you notice the way it flinches and limps. It’s favoring one of its front paws. 

Oh. It's injured. Ok, so you have a gigantic injured wolf camped out on your back porch. Sure. Why not? Somehow you're convinced you've had weirder things happen to you. Seungmin is somehow your best friend and dead, that has to be the weirdest thing in your life, right?

Speaking of your dead roommate, you’re sure that if he were here right now, hovering over your shoulder and watching you pull out the first aid kit from under the sink, he'd say you have a bleeding heart. Or that you’re being idiotic by wanting to help the monster at your door. What else are you meant to do? Shoo it away? It’s injured! 

Gently opening the back door, you try to seem like as little of a threat as possible. You don't need this thing lunging and attacking the moment it sees you. You’re convinced that it could swallow you in one bite if it really wanted it. 

The moment the back door creaks open, its ears perk up and it’s moving to face you. Curious but cautious.

“Hi, uh- please don’t eat me?” You inch further out, keeping the door open in case you have to make a swift exit. The wolf moves out of your way, making room on the already cramped porch. It tips its head and flattens its ears. It doesn’t seem aggressive. 

If anything it looks like it’s in pain. 

Now that you’re out here, and you have a better view, you catch sight of blood on the boards of your porch. Smeared and shiny in the porch light. “Can I… help? If I help you, that means you can’t eat me. Ok?” 

The wolf whines, settling down in whatever empty space it can find and nosing at its front leg. 

This feels almost too surreal. You know nothing about who or what this wolf is, or why it decided to seek you out, but yet you’re crouching down and snapping open the first aid box. 

“Um, it’s nice to meet you. I’m just going to- sorry, I need to see where you’re hurt.” You start to talk to it, not even knowing if it can understand you. You want to reassure it, in any way you can manage. As you pull its, frankly huge paw into your lap, you remember to introduce yourself. It always pays to be polite. 

You try to hold in your gasp once you get a good look at where it’s injured. The entire foreleg is bleeding, the skin mangled. 

“Did you step in a bear trap? Holy shit. ” You breathe, pressing gauze to the open wounds, trying your best to staunch the blood. 

The next few minutes go by in near silence, as some part of your brain has completely shut off to the entire weirdness of this situation, and instead you focus solely on fixing whatever this is as best as you can. It’s far from a professional job, but the bleeding has stopped so you take that as a win. 

The entire time, you can feel the wolf staring at you. If anything, it just adds to the weird factor. It doesn’t act like a normal wolf. Sure, it flinches when you press too hard on its wounds or when you sterilize them, but it doesn’t growl or snap or pull away. It just closes its eyes tight and huffs through its nose. 

“I’m sorry.” You mumble, wrapping its leg and paw up in a bandage. “It’s almost over, I promise.” The wolf whines again, quiet and soft and you’re struck with the urge to press a kiss to its head.

When you’re done, and you tuck the bandage into itself, the wolf finally moves. It surges forward, and you flinch, bracing yourself for the worst. A wet nose presses itself to your cheek, and then you feel it bump its head into your own. The force of it almost knocks you over. 

“Oh, uh- you’re welcome.” 

As quickly as it had sat and offered you its paw, it’s getting up and stepping over you. Apparently it got what it wanted out of this exchange. 

It’s only later, after the wolf has limped its way into the woods, that you find yourself looking up at the night sky. It’s the first night of the full moon. A giant wolf that didn’t act much like a wolf showed up on the very first night of the full moon. There’s something about that statement that sticks into the folds of your brain, but you’re honestly too tired and covered in blood to make any real sense of it. 

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡ ･ﾟ✧:･.:-

The next afternoon, you see Chan getting out of his car, wearing a big grey hoodie and a beanie. Seeing him all bundled up is almost as good as seeing him run around shirtless. He somehow manages to pull off both looks flawlessly. 

You’re still tired from all of the sleep you didn’t get last night, but you’ve decided that sitting out on your front steps to get some much needed sunlight would do you well. 

You wave when he catches sight of you, offering a small smile as a hello. When he waves back you notice that his hand is bandaged, and the white cloth disappears into the cuff of his hoodie. 

Interesting.

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡ ･ﾟ✧:･.:-

“It's at the back door again.” Seungmin says, practically hanging over you. His hair is damp and a shocking shade of orange, and you are not awake enough to wonder how he managed to do that. 

“You have to stop waking me up like this.” You grumble, pushing him out of your face. 

“Your wolf is whining at the back door." 

“He’s not my wolf.” 

You have this sneaking suspicion, you’ve been fostering it all day, that says he’s not really anyone’s wolf but his own. For a multitude of reasons. 

“Well, this is the second night in a row and it’s getting kind of pathetic. I’m starting to feel bad for it.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll deal with him.” You pull a sweater on and shove your feet into slippers.

“Wait- he? Him? The wolf told you its pronouns?” Seungmin follows you down through the hall and down the stairs. 

“Oh, right. I forgot to tell you.” You stop in the living room, peeking just enough into the kitchen to notice the large shape outside of the window by the back door. “I’m pretty sure our neighbor is a werewolf.”

“I knew he was weird!” 

Moving closer to the back door, you’re a bit more resolved in your conclusion after saying it out loud. It feels like the most obvious answer. The only thing you’re still confused about is why did a werewolf seek you out when it was hurt? A werewolf who you’ve barely spoken to and only introduced yourself to earlier in the week?

You open the door, and there he is. Laying with the top half of his body on the porch and the rest of him sitting on the grass. His ears perk up when he sees you in the doorway. 

“Hi Chan. How’s your arm feeling?” You ask, with a tilt of your head and a genuine smile. Seungmin laughs from just behind your shoulder, giddy and loving every minute.

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡ ･ﾟ✧:･.:-

In the morning, there's a knock at your front door, and when you answer it, Chan is standing there, hands shoved deep in his pockets and the brim of his cap pulled low over his eyes. 

He looks a little awkward and misplaced. You were expecting him to show up sooner or later. Especially after you called him by name last night.

“Hey. Long time no see.” You tease, smiling at him.

“Hi. I uh-” He cuts himself off with an embarrassed sort of laugh. “Right. Actually, that's kind of what I came to talk about.”

“About the werewolf thing?”

“Wow." He breathes, still amused and trying to get a handle on his laughter "Yeah, actually.” With his head tipped away from you, he resembles the wolf quite a bit. You can almost imagine him with his ears flattened and his big liquid eyes refusing to look at you. 

“Sure. Come in.” 

You direct him to the living room, and you know what it must look like to someone who's never seen it before. Different patterns and trinkets scattered around, candles on every surface. Seungmin calls it eclectic. But he says it with a twist to his voice so you can never tell if it's an insult or a compliment. 

After you're both seated on one of the couches, your knees dangerously close to touching, you prop your head on your fist and wait for him to speak first. 

This is his problem more than it is yours, plus he's the one that came to talk. 

“You don’t look like a werewolf.” Seungmin says, appearing from virtually nowhere. His hair is still orange, and it looks a lot better in the daylight. You'll have to tell him you like it, once you're not so annoyed with him of course. 

"Oh, uh-" 

“And you don't look like a dead boy. Leave him alone.” You snap at him. With love. 

Seungmin pouts and rolls his eyes, but he easily slips from the room.

“Sorry about him. He’s nosy.” 

Chan shrugs, hands fidgeting on his thighs. “It’s alright. I don’t really mind. Besides, I did come here to talk to you about the 'werewolf thing,' so it’s fine if he’s curious about it.” He actually adds finger quotes as he says it, which is kind of stupidly endearing.

"I'm the one who's curious. Like I said, he's just nosy." 

“Right, well. I want to apologize, firstly, for bothering you the other night. Or well, for the wolf bothering you.”

You tilt your head in curiosity. "Aren’t you and the wolf the same person?”

“It’s- complicated." Chan presses his lips together, before sighing and settling further into the cushions. "We are but… sometimes, especially during a full moon, the wolf can have a mind of his own. We’re not separate entities but- sometimes, when he’s feeling strong, I don’t get a say over our decisions.”

“Like stepping in a bear trap?”

“Or coming to you for help. Really, I am sorry.”

“You were bleeding, Chan. You don’t have to apologize for that.” 

Somehow, your hand has made its way to his knee. You press your fingertips into his jeans. He shifts closer, and his eyes are so dark and deep. 

"Besides. I kind of like the wolf." 

"What about me?" 

"I thought you weren't separate entities?" 

His dimple appears when he smiles, and you have to stop yourself from leaning close and pressing your thumb into it.

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡ ･ﾟ✧:･.:-

It's the last night of the full moon, with Halloween just around the corner, and you're stepping out onto the porch before Seungmin can wake you. 

You have a feeling, rooted deep underneath all of your organs, that you’re going to see Chan again tonight. He mentioned that the full moon has a strong effect on him, and when he’s a wolf he seems drawn to you. So you might as well meet him in the middle. 

Sitting out in your little chair, you wait. The night has turned chilly and the stars glitter brightly in the sky. Finally, movement at the tree line catches your attention. A dark shape that stalks back and forth, just out of sight. 

You don’t really have an explanation for all of this, for why a werewolf is seeking out your attention, but you can’t say that you’re complaining all that much. It’s nice to feel trusted by something five times your size and with teeth as thick as your fingers. 

Getting up and stepping from the porch, you move closer to the woods. Standing barefoot in the sparse grass of your backyard and tempting the shape to come closer. The moon is full and bright and the breeze bites at your bare ankles. The shape stares out at you, eyes glinting between two tree trunks. 

“C’mere.” You call, barely raising your voice. 

The shape moves, bridging the distance between you and the trees in the blink of an eye, and suddenly you have a mass of muscle and fur bearing down on you.

"Hey, you big puppy." The words are all tangled up with a laugh, as you try to push him away and actually get a good look at him. “Y’know, you’re very affectionate for someone who hasn’t known me all that long.” 

Wolf Chan doesn’t answer, of course he doesn’t, but he does huff and shift closer. He’s tall enough that you can look him in the eye without having to bend at all. You reach forward and press your palms to his cheeks, rubbing your thumbs along the soft fur of his face. He closes his eyes at the touch, huffing through his nose again.

He’s soft and warm, fur almost black in the moonlight. You don’t know why this has happened to the two of you, but it feels right. Like you’ve been waiting for this moment for a very long time and didn’t even realize it until now. 

Suddenly he’s moving forward and pressing his nose into your cheek, getting as close as he can. Leaning his weight into you as his muzzle moves down and into the curve of your neck. You get a face full of his fur, which has you laughing again. 

You wrap your arms around his neck. Or as much of his neck as you can, returning the favor by nuzzling into his body and sighing in contentment. 

"We should really try this cuddling thing when you're human." 

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡ ･ﾟ✧:･.:-

The day before All Hallow’s Eve you have an armful of Chan, as you both lay on the big couch in your living room. You should probably be more wary of how close you two have gotten, and how quickly. But you can’t help but remember that feeling the other night, standing among the treeline and breathing in the wolf’s scent. Petrichor and pine trees. There’s just something right about it that you can’t find the words for. 

The morning after the full moon, Chan had come to your door and asked if the offer for some human cuddles was still available. You told him to take you to dinner first and then you’d decide. 

Which led you both to right now, days later, and almost stupidly inseparable. He hasn’t unwillingly shifted into a wolf since the full moon, so you’ve been able to spend the nights with a very human Chan. Getting to know him and talk to him. Touch your fingers to his skin. Learn his little habits and quirks. 

You smooth a hand over his hair, pushing it out of his eyes as he cuddles closer. He hums and moves around until he’s pressing his face into the slope of your neck. It’s warm and familiar and you squeeze him a little bit tighter. "The wolf really likes you."

"Oh. He does?"

Chan nods and hums again, happily. You can feel it vibrate through your skin and into your bones. "I do, yeah." 

“Well that’s good, because I really like you too.”

You both settle back into the quiet, listening to the ambient noises of the house. The fridge hums lowly from the kitchen. Seungmin is somewhere singing to himself again, you can hear it carry through the walls. Petting at the nape of Chan’s neck, you tip your chin and kiss the crown of his head. You could probably stay like this all day. 

He smells like petrichor and pine. Sharp and woodsy, like the forest and magic.

"Hey, if I dress up as Red Riding Hood, would you dress up as the Big Bad Wolf?" You ask, cutting through the comfortable silence. 

"How long have you been waiting to ask me that?" 

"Since I saw you getting out of your car with your arm all bandaged up." 

Chan laughs, big and loud, and he’s propping himself up so he can look down at you, eyes squinting and dimple appearing. He doesn’t say anything, just sort of shakes his head and then surges forward to kiss you soundly. 

You’re going to take that as a yes.

[darlingmisa]

what if you were having an attitude and doing whatever you could to ignore everyone and be alone? the type of attitude that couldn’t be dealt with by sex?

i need some abby comfort and i love your writing so so much

Don't Hide...

There's not enough Abby comfort on here and I'm definitely here to fix that! And I'm so so glad you enjoy my writing! It makes me very happy to hear you guys say that <3 (846 words)

It was one thing for you to have a bit of an attitude sometimes, who wouldn't? Living in a post-apocalyptic world wasn't the dream scenario, so of course, everyone was a little snarky at times, but something about the way you were acting, felt different to Abby. It wasn't just your normal attitude after a bad patrol or generally rough day, something was different.

All week you had been getting more and more irritated. It started as simply rolling your eyes when Issac mentioned something you could've done better, walking away before he could even finish his lecture. Next, it was ignoring your partners, who were simply trying to keep everyone, including you, safe on patrols. What got Abby's attention, was how you'd shut yourself away from everyone the minute you could. That on its own wasn't abnormal. What was? You were pushing her away too.

Abby tried everything, asking around to see if something happened to put you in such a mood, but she never got a clear answer. Always just a "She just started acting like that," from every person she asked. Her concern only grew when you started spending the night in your room, something you hadn't done since the two of you had gotten together.

It got to the point where Abby had barely seen or spoken to you. She was extremely worried, especially when even on your days off, you were nowhere to be found. This just wasn't like you, but every time she went to your room, knocking on the locked door, something else you never did, she was met with pure silence.

She decided she would just give you the space you seemed to be so desperately begging for. And that lasted for a few days until she realized you hadn't been going out at all. Not for food, not for your patrols, not for any reason at all. No one had seen you, and that's when she decided to snag a room key and make her way back to the door with your name written on it.

She knocked, muttering a small "Babe..? I'm coming in okay?" and that's when the panic settled in. You knew it would come to this eventually, and you could already hear the worry in her voice, only making you feel worse. You could see her slightly from the curled-up position you were in. As she slowly moved closer, you couldn't miss the furrow of her brows or the frown on her face caused by your current state. What stood out the most though, were the bags under her eyes showing how little she'd slept.

You felt the tears immediately fill your eyes and overflow, beginning to sob out apologies as she rushed to your side. Abby was quick to speak, brushing stray hairs out of your face and wiping your tears. "Hey hey, what's wrong sweet girl? Talk to me."

At this point you'd rolled back over, unable to look your girlfriend in the eyes as you tried to speak through broken sobs. "I-I don't know Abs… I can't explain it." And that was the truth. You weren't sure why you'd been feeling this way or what had caused it. You just couldn't do it anymore.

"I need you to look at me baby, and breathe, please." Her voice was soft and calming compared to the whirlpool of emotions, ones that had been swirling inside of you for weeks now. You turned around at the feeling of the bed dipping beside you, a sign that Abby had laid down as well. Once her eyes met yours, she spoke again "Did something happen?"

"No," You began, voice barely audible from where you'd buried your face in her chest. "I just..broke? I don't know." Abby felt the rise of your chest before your voice reached her ears once more. "It's so much baby I just can't-"

Abby cut you off before you could finish. "I know pretty girl, I know." Her hands trailed down your sides, rubbing gently. "You've been working so hard, was it too much for you?" And all you could do was nod, hearing her put what you'd been hinting at in simpler terms. You were exhausted, trying to seem tough for everyone but you just couldn't keep the act up anymore.

The blonde held you as you cried, running her fingers through your slightly tangled hair, mumbling small comforting phrases, and leaving kisses across the crown of your head. "We'll get you a different position on base okay? Something that might be easier for you yeah?" And you nodded, coming to terms with the fact that you weren't ready for jobs like that, for something so stressful.

Eventually, you'd calmed down and raised your head to look at Abby once more. The rough feeling of the pad of her thumb wiping a stray tear grabbed your attention. "Next time, don't hide yourself okay?" A small smile graced her features as she watched you nod again, still not risking speaking and bringing more tears. "I'm here, just come talk to me."

[esamastation]

Part forty-four of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty, forty-one, forty-two, forty-three

-

Observation log, 8th of October, 16:34.

Sephiroth spent most of the day redecorating the house before fixing up the yard to his liking. He's pretty particular about where everything goes. Hewley's fixed up a training field for him, and bedrooms for all of us. No idea who will be cooking. At a guess, it's not going to be either one of the SOLDIERs. 

After poking around the house, they set up to practise outside. No sign of any usual energy activity from Sephiroth so far - just normal sword practice. Sephiroth seems to be teaching Hewley how to actually use his huge ass sword.

Seems like a good teacher.

Observation log, 8th of October, 18:45

Sword practice finished, no new developments to report. Sephiroth is teaching Hewley how to meditate. Apparently it's "good for your energies" to meditate after practice.

Rude finally decided to show up with our supplies. No fucking wonder it took him forever - the dumbass hauled the whole load in with a handcart. Still, got everything here alright, so, gotta hand it to him, man doesn't quit easy.

I guess I'm cooking tonight. Hope everyone likes chili!

Observation log, 8th of October, 21:13

Sephiroth is reading through all the writing left behind by the previous owner of the safehouse. I would like to note that there's no mention of him knowing Wutai language anywhere in his file. Hewley is checking the perimeter. Rude passed out after eating.

Chili was universally enjoyed by all! This ends the 8th of October log.

Observation log, 9th of October, 10:05

Well. It's safe to say that energy alignment work has begun.

After breakfast Sephiroth informed us that he'd be going to the training field and that he shouldn't be disturbed for any reason - that we're free to watch, but that's it, and even if his practice runs past dinner time, that was fine. Just let him do his thing.

The implication that if we got in his way, we'd go the way of the SOLDIER training room, was pretty clear.

He's been working on sword forms ever since, going on for three hours now. It doesn't look that different from the usual sword practice he does - but it feels different. Even before he started glowing. It feels like when someone is firing off a spell, that rushing, on fire, kinda electric feeling? It feels like that, like Sephiroth's firing off spells every which way, just, nonstop. But he isn't.

Hewley looks kinda like someone hit him over the head with a crowbar, so whatever he's sensing with his SOLDIER enhancements must be pretty wild.

Observation log, 9th of October, 13:45

Energy alignment is still going, with no change and no visible signs of exhaustion from Sephiroth.

Asked Hewley over lunch what he thought of the whole thing and what the alignment practice felt like to him.

Hewley: "Have you ever seen a natural Mako spring? I'm originally from the Mideel Islands, and there's a bunch of them - and the really old and active ones tend to have a buildup of Materia around them. They feel like nothing else - people use them for all kinds of health benefits."

Rude: "Sephiroth feels like a… healing spring?"

Hewley: "Kind of. One with a whirlpool in the middle… and maybe a thunderstorm looming overhead."

Observation log, 9th of October, 17:30

Sephiroth is still at it. He hasn't even taken a break to piss!

Observation log, 9th of October, 19:15

Sephiroth stopped the sword practice, finally, but it doesn't feel like it's over. He's still glowing, and now he's sitting in the middle of the field, meditating. He has one hand on his stomach, and Hewley is worried about another blood vomiting possibility. Like maybe what he's doing is making physical changes to his insides. Which is just such a lovely thought just before dinner!

We've decided not to disturb him - but Rude's making a plate for him, just in case he'll be done soon.

Observation log, 9th of October, 21:15

Sephiroth is still meditating. Guess that means seconds for the rest of us!

Observation log, 9th of October, 23:50

When is this asshole going to go to bed?!

Observation log, 10th of October, 02:05

Fucking finally! Sephiroth finally stopped, got up, had a wash and went to bed. This concludes the log for the 9th of October. Goddamn. 

Observation log, 10th of October, 10:40

It's hard to say what, if anything, the previous day actually achieved. Sephiroth doesn't look or feel different, and he still acts the same. Reno can't tell if there's any difference either. He seems just as weird as before.

Hewley grilled him on the whole thing, but Sephiroth wasn't exactly forthcoming. 

Exact transcript of Sephiroth's and Hewley's discussion:

Sephiroth: "Can you feel the MP inside you? I don't mean just when you use it, or when you're running low - everyone becomes more aware of the volume of their blood when they have anaemia, that's not what I mean. I mean right now - can you feel the MP you have? How about the Mako?"

Hewley: "I guess, sort of? I mean, I do feel different than I did before I had any treatments, and I know I have MP, but that's probably not what you mean?"

Sephiroth: "No, not exactly. I guess it doesn't actually matter."

Hewley: "Hey, no, you got me curious now. What does it feel like for you?"

Sephiroth: "It's like I have a concrete lump of… crude energy in my gut."

Hewley: "Crude?"

Sephiroth. "Raw, unprocessed, unrefined."

Hewley: "That's the Mako inside you?"

Sephiroth: "That too."

Hewley: "And with your energy alignment practice, you're… refining that?"

Sephiroth: "Something like it."

Hewley: "That's incredible. What will happen if you succeed?"

Sephiroth: "... Guess we'll see once I do."

Observer's note, I don't know what the hell that means, but the look on his face was fucking scary. Sephiroth knows exactly what it means. And he knows it will have some consequences going forward. And he definitely expects those consequences to be mostly bad. But he's still doing it!

So here's a question; does Sephiroth himself know why he's doing what he's doing? Does he have a plan, is this part of some scheme - or is he blindly following impulses he probably doesn't fully understand?

Sephiroth went back to work immediately after eating breakfast, and it looks like it's going to be another 12 hours of glowy sword swinging. 

I should've brought a magazine or something.

-

Gonna be skipping some time in the next few parts.

[scrollonso]

First Kiss (Race 2)

A strollonso AU where 18 year old rookie Lance Stroll falls helplessly in love with the notoriously mean world champion. (1.4k words, no warnings) [@v3lnys]

last part - masterlist - next part

Quali came to an end once again, the feeling slightly tamer than the first time as Lance pulled back into his side of the garage, Nico not far behind.

He was slightly disappointed he qualified p10 but it'll be fine as long as he can actually finish this race (and hopefully get points for the team this time.)

He heard Nico talking to his engineer on the other side of the garage and decided to go over, not having much to do on his side.

"Seriously, the wheels locked up like twice. You were watching and I know you noticed so the fact that you're ignoring the issues is bullshit-"

Maybe not the best time to stand around.

He decided instead of hanging around with Nico he'd just walk around the paddock, his race suit hanging by his hips as he walked by the other teams garages, seeing how busy everyone else on the paddock was. He could tell some people were quick to go home but he wasn't ever in a rush to get back to his hotel room, it was usually boring anyway.

"Ah, Lancito, I was just looking for you" There it is. The voice Lance looks forward to hearing as soon as the race week starts, and most likely the reason he decides to stay back as late as he does

"Nando, Hi" He flashed a smile at the long haired driver, stoping in his tracks so they could walk together

"Nando?" The shorter man echoed, catching up to Lance as they both continued walking, steps in sync as they made their way around the paddock

"Well, I figured it was only fair for me to give you a name since you gave me one" Lance nodded as he spoke, afraid the older man had a problem with it, it was quite childish, he wasn't sure why he even called him that, Fernando worked just fine, it was a silly nickname

"I like it, Sounds good coming from you." Fernando smiled up at Lance, wrapping an arm around his shoulder to pull him down to his level "Guess we are friends now, eh? Coworkers do not usually have special names for eachother"

Lance nodded again, he supposed Nando was right. He turned to look at him as he continued to speak, rambling about many things but all Lance could think about was how good he looked. He'd never really examined the Spaniard like he was doing now, sunglasses propped up on his head, holding his hair out of his face, it seemed like he had just shaved that morning, the shadow of his facial hair barely visible, his lips curved slightly upwards as he talked, his hair curling in every direction but somehow he made the messy look seem intentional

"What hotel do they have you staying at, Lancito?" Was the first thing Lance really heard after spending god knows how long just staring at Fernando. How embarrassing.

"Uhm- Mövenpick? I think, Otmar has my keycard somewhere." Lance hummed, having lost the keycard to the hotel in Bahrain Otmar had decided it was best to put Nico and Lance in the same room and "look after" Lances keycard until they headed back.

"Ah, I see. I didn't realize they'd put drivers in different hotels."

"If you miss my company so much you're welcome to come along, you know I get special priviliges because of my dad" Lance joked, at this point he was so used to people belittling him to just being his fathers son that he had started to do it as well

"Ah, don't say that Lancito" Fernando almost scolded him, moving his hand to tap the back of his head "You forget I'm world champion, I could buy another hotel ticket if I wanted to."

Lance laughed, nodding in agreement, there wasn't anything stopping Fernando from doing anything really, after he left the paddock he could go wherever, do whatever, it's not like he signed away his soul to F1 so moving hotels wouldn't be a big deal "I know, I know, but if you ever want free stuff, Mr. World Champion, you know who to ask" Lance hummed, taking his turn of having his arm around Fernandos shoulder "These are the perks of being friends with a nepotism baby"

"I'll take your word for it then" Fernando laughed, accepting the change of positions, it wasn't very comfortable reaching up to drape an arm around Lances shoulder anyways.

A comfortable silence fell over them, neither feeling the need to add anything more, it was odd, how well they had clicked. They got along better together than either of them did with their teammates but no one was complaining. Lance liked having someone to go to outside of the Racing Point garage and Fernando liked having someone he felt like this towards, whatever "this" was. They were snapped back to reality when Otmar finally found Lance

"God kid, I was looking for you. Nico's about to head back so I figured now was a good time to give you the key" He pulled out a think black card and handed it to Lance "Don't lose it this time, alright?" He asked, not letting to just yet.

"Alright, I'll attach it to my arm, okay?" Lance joked, turning back to Fernando "Think about it, really, if your hotel gets boring you're more than welcome at mine." He said before making his way out of the paddock, catching up to Nico so they could leave together

Odd was all Otmar thought, he didn't realize his driver had gotten so close to Fernando, he'd thought maybe it was just press, or maybe some plan the Spaniard had, but he had nothing to gain from staying late and just sitting next to him.

Lance tried not to be disappointed when night came and went and Fernando had decided not to come, it was silly, but a part of him was looking forward to seeing him outside of the paddock, outside of the blue and yellow.

They were so busy before the race that Lance hadn't even managed to catch a glimpse of the Spaniard let alone talk to him, before he knew it interviews were over and he was in his car, lined up in the fifth row, Nico barely behind him.

Fernando was right in saying Malaysia was going to treat him better, he had managed to make up three places and actually get points for his team in his second grand prix.

It felt great, even though it wasn't a podium like Fernando had gotten getting points waa a big deal for the rookie (driver and team).

The debrief went smoothly considering how both Nico and Lance finished the race with no major problems, as they gathered their things and the team started to leave the garage one by one Lance couldn't help but notice the blue in the corner of his eye. He turned his head and smiled when he confirmed it was in fact Fernando

"Good-" Lance started, trying to beat Fernando to congratulating eachother was proving to be difficult

"You did great, Lancito" Fernando commented, walking into the garage now that it was practically empty "Your overtakes are pretty decent for a nepotism baby, eh?"

Lance laughed, hitting Fernandos arm "Guess you did pretty good for a world champ then, huh?" It was nice, the banter they had, if anyone else joked with him jow Fernando does he was sure he'd take it the wrong way but with how Fernandos treated him since they met he had no doubt in his mind that every jab he made towards him was lighthearted.

"Any plans before Australia, Lancito?" Right, Lance had forgotten there wasn't another race for two weeks

"I'm not sure, I always end up somewhere though" He laughed, leaning on the counter behind him, using his hands to prop himself up "How about you, where are you going, Nando?"

"Me and Mark, Mark Webber, were planning on spending the break in Australia together"

Right, he forgot Fernando was close to Mark, the driver who's seat he took.

"Could you tell him I'm sorry?" Lance hesitated to speak, wondering if the Australian was mad at him for ending his career early

"He doesn't mind, trust me, if he wasn't okay with ending his career he would've signed with someone else." Fernando consoled the younger, patting his shoulder after he finished "Don't worry your pretty little head, alright?"

Lance laughed, shaking his head at the comment in efforts to ignore the pink tint covering his face "Alright, Nando."

[sanemisstalker]

꒰ა BIRTHRIGHT໒꒱

Douma makes your birthday a little easier.

CW// NSFW // FEM/ AFAB/ BREASTED READER / MAJOR DEPRESSIVE EPISODE/ This was very clearly written by someone going through it/ DISCUSSION OF AN ED/ Toxic Masculinity/ Toxic relationships/ Emotional Negligence / Dub-Con/ Forced Cuckholding/ BDSM dynamics/ Mentions of Self Harm/ Intentional Sexual Self Harm/ Intentional Self-Destruction. (Please let me know if I missed any)

I feel the urge to throw in an extra warning here and say that none of the following is inherently lucrative. I think I'm going through a depressive episode, and this was written before I realized. Please keep that in mind going forward. We can have a discussion about the ethics of this at a later date.

You kept your head tucked down as they sang. A ploy smile wide and rife with forced giggles. Never, did the world feel less real than in that moment. There was always someone out of tune, always someone who would sigh on your behalf. Always someone with a hand placed firmly on your shoulder to show how much they cared.

Always someone who stood next to you, who the group considered your most favourite person. You were pretty sure that's what he was supposed to be.

Nobody sounds genuine when they sing happy birthday, you fought with yourself to reason away the feeling inside of you. The person beside you. It's always awkward, right?

If you'd seen yourself hanging up the decorations, icing the red velvet cake, and worrying about everyone's dietary needs, you probably would've found it cute. Admirable, even, the level of dedication to the bit of it all. To the classics of a 'birthday party'.

Mitsuri had found it cute, after all. As did Shinobu.

Nobody cares if you're cute, act grown.

The taunts from a meaner part of you, a more vapid part, were beginning to call your smile into question. Not to any of your friends, though. Only him.

You didn't want to cry about fucking happy birthday, but he was right next to you, and every step of the way, every chance he got, he'd made all of those cute things feel very immature. Not even your barely there outfit, the one you wore to feel better about yourself, had felt all there.

'It's not weird to be twenty, I don't get why you're so stressed.'

Twenty. The number repeated in your head. Not old enough to drink. Not young enough to fuck. An insecure thought, but he was next to you. And every waning word of happy birthday felt like points off your scale. Points off from whatever else you meant to him.

Fuck. me. You thought, blowing out the candles as the choir finished. They all cheered and clapped. Kyojuro had lifted his hand from your shoulder, and Mitsuri had begun to apologize for how out of sync she was. Akaza looked as annoyed as he did when the song had started.

You turned to your right and looked up at Giyu. He smiled down at you and then averted his eyes. You turned back to your friends with no less convincing a smile.

Fuck. Me. You pleaded.

"I hate it no less every time." You joked, like this wasn't the first time people had done this for you since you were seven. They all laughed like you were normal. Laughed like having everyone near and dear to you in that same room didn't terrify you.

"I want the first slice!" Mitsuri rushed out, pressing her hands to her chest.

"No way, The birthday girl always gets the first slice!" Kyojuro argued.

"Since when? What kind of tradition is that?!" Mitsuri sputtered. Tengen shook his head from beside her.

"My family always served the birthday person last... but I think since you prepared this yourself, different traditions are in order!" Tengen reasoned.

"I agree." Gyokko piped up, dropping his lipstick back into his bag. It was probably his fifth reapplication of the hour. "Besides, enough arguing, I want to get to the gifts! You're going to like mine the best!"

"Tough talk. I'm going to blow you out of the water, fish boy." Sanemi hissed. Gyokko's jaw dropped in mock shock, very clearly unafraid of the taunt. You wished you had such confidence in your skill.

Did I even make a wish? You laughed a little at the realization.

"Y/N, do you want to cut the cake?" Giyuu asked, his voice forcing you back to the moment. You nodded at him, suddenly considering the weight of how embarassing it was going to be to cut the cake evenly between so many people-

How embarassing it was going to be to do it infront of Giyu, and how awful his eyes would feel judging your ability to fraction.

In the end it worked fine, though Akaza and Rengoku argued over who had the larger piece. You'd made a rather large cake to begin with. Enough for the smallest bit to go to waste if need be-

They left you a spot next to Giyu on the couch, again. It was thoughtful, you reminded yourself. They wanted you to sit next to your boyfriend, because who wouldn't on such an occasion?

Mitsuri and Obanai tossed you knowing glances as you sat in silence beside him. You were grateful you had so many friends. Sometimes, they didn't notice when you were quiet. Or when you spoke.

They never did with Giyu, either.

Gyokko's gift had been your favourite. A hand made mug, without a fish on it. How thoughtful. Mitsuri's handmade sweater was better, but you knew Gyokko's ego couldn't handle such a blow.

Giyu's was your real favourite. Not intentionally. You'd really hoped it wouldn't have been, but it had been a long time since you'd stopped trying to reason with how the man made you feel.

He wasn't your boyfriend, anymore. He hadn't been for a while, now, even if nobody knew. So maybe it stung worse when his gift was so lack luster. Maybe it felt like penance- you didn't quite know, but you were really happy it was so... thoughtless.

Even if he thought it wasn't. Maybe he did. You didn't know anything about him anymore. Even if he was going to be staying his third night on your living room couch instead of in your bed-

Even if he'd spent the last year of your life making you a worse version of yourself to fit his whims. Unintentional or not, you didn't recognize the hands that pulled the wrapping paper off the thousand piece puzzle.

You broke up with him, you reminded yourself, stop wallowing. It's unbecoming for a woman your age.

You couldn't think about how he treated you while others were over. You'd snap on the spot. Either burst into tears or burst at the seams, and you weren't interested in finding out the difference.

When Muzan and Douma arrived, a (shared) gift of yet another cardigan in tow, all you joked about was how they were an hour late, and it was probably because they were fucking. Though Muzan assured you all it wasn't, Douma couldn't help but maintain the gag for the remainder of the night.

Giyu found it funny, you noted. Like he should. You laughed, like you should, and Mitsuri and Obanai would toss you another glance, you'd thank everyone else for their cardigans, and for being blind, like they should.

Giyu been so mean the whole time. Not even mean like boys like Muzan were normally mean. Not mean like boys like Tengen-

"Y/N, are you alright?" The question had been deafening. You turned to look, knowing the voice you hoped it was hadn't been the asker.

It was Douma. He'd taken Giyu's place beside you.

You didn't know him, but you knew off him. One of Muzan's many friends with unfortunate traits. One of the ones you never really grew to get a long with no matter how many times you sat next to him in the dining hall.

Striking eyes pondered yours, something just shy of sincerity hanging from his long lashes. His blonde hair was pulled back into a stump at the base of his neck. His hoodie dangled off his shoulder. You wondered how he wasn't sweating- because you suddenly were.

"Oh, Douma- yeah- I'm-"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Even with your convictions, your word to Giyu that things were going to be normal, your assurances to Mitsuri that you wouldn't need her to rescue you if things got rough, you swore it... It all wasn't quite enough.

It was just a tear. Your voice hadn't even broken, your lip hadn't wobbled. You didn't even feel the trademark dryness in your throat.

It just spilled. Right down your cheek and onto your bare thigh.

Your hand rushed to wipe it away, laughing a little too loud to over compensate.

"I'm doing good! What's up?" You rushed. Douma blinked at you, concern on his face, though you and your friends doubted Douma could feel such a thing. Sometimes you all doubted the man could feel anything. He wasn't the type you needed to share your feelings with.

Something in your gut twitched at the beauty of his eyes.

"Hey, Gyutaro?" Douma peeked around you, interrupting the other man's conversation with Tengen. "Give me the keys to your van."

"What for?" Gyutaro grimaced.

"Little smoke break with the birthday girl." Douma whispered, pointing to you.

"A smoke break?" Tengen whispered back, puckering his lips in question.

"Listen, I'd love to have you down there big guy, but if they see all three of us leave with her, Kyojuro and Shinobu are so going to get suspicious." Douma reasoned, eyes darting to the two RA's you kept as friends. Sanemi had begged you to bring even a little bottle. The sober bastard looked miserable between the two, even with his mouth full of cake. "Not to call both of you potheads, but-"

"Jesus Christ, I get it." Gyutaro huffed back, scrambling for his keys. "Talk louder next time, asshole."

"Thank you, thank you." Douma plucked the keys from his hands and stood. He beckoned you toward the door.

You took a look around, some what unwilling. This was your party, after all. How crude to ditch it in favor of smoking with a man you didn't want to know-

The click of the bathroom door drove you to your feet.

Shinobu's eyes caught on you both going to the door, but she said nothing. Verbally, nothing. The look of alarm on her face spoke volumes and wrote letters the likes of which film couldn't process, and words couldn't describe.

Douma wasn't a good guy. Most friend groups had a guy that just... wasn't right. You only invited Douma to things because he came with somebody. You'd never individually reached out him.

You knew Douma wasn't good though. Explicitly. You'd been told from more than one woman who'd seen you sitting near him that he had a habit of making girls cry, and reveling in the sight.

You weren't sure if such an idea appealed to you by nature, or only in the wake of whoever you were without Giyu. You pitied a healthier you that would regret your attraction, and potential action, to Douma. A future you that would beg current you to reconsider her decisions.

You pitied a past you that waited for Giyu, too. Atleast Douma was attracted to you, or to your tear. No man of Douma's breed showed this level of concern without wanting something in return. The douchie-ness of it all was comforting, in a way.

You could deal with Douma. You could deal with objectification and off handed comments. You could deal with him trying to woo you, thinking you're not intentionally falling for some stupid game that he's so big and bright for playing.

You'd played with Doumas before. You'd never gotten around to fucking one- Giyu was something of an act of self preservation from Douma and his ilk.

You hadn't expected Giyu to send you back into their arms full force. The way your body was reeled in response to the man's willingness was disgusting.

"Douma, I'm fine, really. I don't need anyth-"

"Oh shush." Douma interrupted as he opened the door for you.

Chivalry. How classic.

You intentionally lowered the appearance of your motor skills. Suddenly feeling the urge to appear dumb and helpless. The sick look on Douma's face as you situated yourself in the passengers seat meant that you succeeded.

You could feel your eyes glossing over. The kicks of such a stupid game were returning.

Douma at the drivers seat was all too appealing. His had the laissez-faire stance he was supposed to, broad hand flat on the back of your headrest as he pulled out of the parking lot.

Giyu couldn't even drive.

"You know, Y/N, you looked miserable in there." Douma laughed as you all pulled onto the main road.

"I wasn't miserable. I was very... forget it. I wasn't miserable. You don't need to know why." You rushed, forgetting Douma didn't care on an instinctive level. You had to play a careful game to ensure optimal recovery, while achieving optimal self harm. "Do you want me to smoke with you? Where are we going?"

"Ah. You ask a lot of questions." He laughed, hearty and flustered. "No, we're not gonna smoke. I'm going to buy you like... a milkshake or something. So miserable to not eat your own birthday cake." You flinched.

"E-excuse me?"

"I found a rather generous slice in the bathroom trash, buried under a bunch of toilet paper. Figured it belonged to the birthday girl when you were the only one without a plate."

"Why were you going through my trash?" You hissed, thrown off.

"That's not important." Douma waved off, the chain bracelet on his arm shaking to add an unnecessary sound effect. "What is important is that you're a little puker."

"Oh fucking blow me." You wretched at the name. "Aren't you literally another claim away from getting kicked off campus?"

"Aren't you in a car with me right now? All alone?" He returned. It sickened you that he knew his reputation and laughed about such a thing. It should sicken you.

"Yeah. Congrats. You're my get away scheme. I'm not bulimic, fucking prick."

"I'm sure you're not. You are looking... thinner, though. Problems? Feeling the need to control uncontrollable things?"

He spoke like he knew. Most men did, and you weren't going to let such a read positively impact your opinion of Douma's intelligence. Especially not when it was incredibly invasive and said with no tact.

"I dumped Giyu. Did you want to hear that? Does that make you happy? I was miserable. Does knowing I was miserable get you off?"

"No, ha. That's tragic. After hearing about your many... Interests from Gyokko, I was a bit relieved you ended up with someone so... vanilla. Girls like you rarely live to... Thirty?"

"You could've given me a heads up." You snapped.

"Ah. Good boy, not a good fuck?" You went silent. Douma whistled, which turned into a pained hiss. "Oh, that on the head?"

"We didn't fuck." You mumbled.

"Excuse me?"

"We didn't fuck! We didn't fuck! We never fucked!" You screeched, whipping around to the man, Douma remained focused on the road. "Are you happy? Can you hear?!"

"Oh I'm heart broken, Y/N!" Douma raised his voice in turn, not losing his smile.

"God, I can't even- fuck off!"

"Want to tell me about it?" He sang, pulling into a Dairy Queen drive through.

Douma got some chocolate monstrosity. You got a dipped vanilla cone. You felt like sobbing as he handed it to you, but you didn't want to waste such a trump card.

His hand had intentionally grazed yours.

You imagined Giyu back at your dorm. Fretting when Shinobu takes him aside to tell him where you are, to press that he should be concerned because Douma's a freak. You couldn't help but scoff at the conceited fantasy.

Giyu wouldn't be worried. He wouldn't even blink about it.

That's her problem. Like it'd always been.

"I don't even think he ever liked me." You laughed after spilling the entirety of the last year of your life onto the man. The vanilla had melted over your fist. You found more malice toward yourself for being unable to eat something so good. "And I let myself get fucked over. I should've known, ya know. With my track record, there's no way I'd pick somebody who'd treat me well."

"Hmm." Douma hummed, pulling his spoon from between his lips. You prayed he'd have the decency to give you head. Unlikely, you bet. "You're being too hard on yourself. And on that poor cone." The thing had cracked in your grip.

"I'm not going to eat this."

"How wasteful. I spent at least 3 dollars on that." Douma didn't take receipts, or listen when his total was read, you could tell by the the watch on his wrist. "You know, your cake was really good too-"

"Stop being a dick." You rushed. "I don't know where you get off on seeing women suffering, but knock it off about the food." You rolled down the window and splattered the cone across the side walk.

"I don't get off on seeing you suffer. Enmu's into that, not me." Douma assured, tipping back the last of the blizzard. He ran his tongue over his plump lips before discarding the cup back into Gyutaro's already messy and weed ridden van. "I get off on... well. Everything else."

"I'm not fucking you." You assured, not even close to believing yourself. Neither did Douma.

"Like you didn't fuck Giyu?"

"I didn't fuck- well, i- I never fucked Giyu. I just... oh this is so bull shit."

"You just what?" Douma probed.

"Just lost... You're going to think I'm pathe-" You cut yourself off to revel in the feeling of his predatory look.

Nobody had ever made you feel so edible with such little action. It was arguable if you could even consider such a look predatory. Cannibalistic was probably a better word, because there was nothing animal about his intentions.

Human. Douma was scarily human. Widened eyes, and an upper lip twitching to maintain a straight line. Waiting for your words like new hymns-

"I-I just lost my virginity to him. He didn't- he didn't really move-" You smothered a sob with a laugh. You could practically hear Douma's eyes flutter shut. He hummed at the news. Hummed.

"So you've never been fucked." He did have authority to say that, you guessed. It wasn't in question. It was acknowledgement. "How... soft." You grimaced.

"I've had sex-"

"No~" Douma sang, tune evil and ill intentioned. "No you haven't~"

"You talk like you know." You sneered, wiping tears away. "I gave head. He gave me head. He- he fingered me-"

"I could finger you." The tentative clack of his ring against the steering wheel was much more daunting than Giyu had ever seemed. You remembered, subconsciously, why you never fucked a Douma. Maybe Giyu's near chastened levels of love were all you were made for, even if Douma's words made your uterus feel like a welcome ticking clock.

"What?" You croaked.

"It upsets me, almost." Douma sighed, starting the car up again. "I hate to see good things go to waste. Knowing you were... so needy that whole time... and he just ate his fingers?" Douma clicked his tongue.

"Don't pity me-"

"I'm pitying your pussy." Douma faked a tear. "A waiting college girl going unfucked? Thats a travesty."

"We're. Not. Fucking." You clarified to Douma, leaning toward him. "Stop trying to make me out to be- easy, and yourself to be some- sex god-"

"Y/N, One: I'm incredibly easy. I find no shame in that." Douma assured. " and two: I'm not some sex god... I'm the sex god." He laughed.

"God, you're fucking cring-"

"Do you want to fuck?" Douma asked, and the words ran over your face like a wash of static. It was numbing, not in an apathetic way, but in a relieving way. Like an ibuprofen right before it thinned your blood.

"We can't-"

"You're right. This van is disgusting. I wouldn't fuck in here, either." Douma laughed. "Is Giyu staying over tonight?"

It was a loaded question. The tone of his voice left nothing hidden about his intentions.

The idea of Giyu hearing you be eaten was-

You shuddered, shaking your head. The vapid you craved your sudden open door to emotional revenge.

He wouldn't even care.

"Yes. He had to be-"

"What if-" Douma interrupted. "What if we make him jealous? You have a lot of malice toward the guy, yeah?" He verbalized your thoughts.

"That won't work. I don't want to hurt him-"

"Oh it will, and fuck that guy." Douma hissed. "In fact, you should let me handle everything. You've worked that little head of yours into a real fog, right? I can make it a really good fog."

"You won't be able to make me cum."

"You have a vibrator, right? I promise I'm more than capable." He laughed.

Saying goodbye to Shinobu had been the worst of the bunch. Though everyone threw you confused glances as they left, Shinobu's had been particularly knowing. You were breaking girl code. You felt like shit, deservingly so.

Douma, however, sat right next to Giyu on the couch, none the wiser. The two conversing like Douma didn't know Giyu was negligent, and like Giyu wasn't sensing something off about the man being there longer than everyone else.

Douma's move choice of Cruel Intentions was very silent.

Giyu didn't have particularly strong feelings about Douma, but Giyu also didn't look known danger in the eye. He was very against that, in fact. A common point of contention. You knew it hurt him when you ignored his look of questioning.

"Why is he here?" He'd whisper as Douma locked the door to the restroom. "Didn't you say you hated him?"

"I- he's just hanging out for a bit. He did me a solid earlier."

Giyu realized a bit meant the night when Cruel Intentions was over, and he watched the two of you dissapear into your bedroom.

"I can't believe you were telling the truth." Douma laughed quietly as he closed the door. "I figured he might get a little territorial... but nothing. Ouch."

"Thanks." You sneered.

"Don't mention it." He shrugged off his jacket, laying it on top of your computer chair. "I can't believe that. Seriously." He seemed genuinely shocked.

"Yeah." You mumbled, trying to mask the hurt that came from the validation of your pain. It was humiliating, as a woman, to admit to such a lack of control over men. It was particularly hard admitting it to Mitsuri-

Douma was easy. He'd never get the problem in full. He did a quick survey over your room while you climbed onto your bed.

You never doubted that your final straw had been drawn.

"You know," Douma starred at you with wide eyes. You wondered, with his many oddities, how he'd managed to get near any woman that wasn't as deranged as you currently were. "I'm a really good kisser." He bragged.

"I'm sure you are-"

A soft hand grabbed your ankle, yanking you from your mattress and back toward Douma. Your ass made contact with his jean clad groin, your legs split to reveal what little your outfit left to the imagination.

It was only when his height kept your feet dangling just off the ground that you considered how much physical power Douma held over you. How much stronger he was. How he could do anything he wanted to you, and planned to do so.

It made your pussy clench to think he could've done this to you at any point. That he definitely wanted to.

His fingers toyed with the already scrunched up hem of your dress, pushing it up to the end of your spine so he'd have every bit of fat on your ass available to his palm.

Your panties didn't even feel like they were there.

"What are you doing?"

"Foreplay." He hummed.

"The last I checked, we're not having sex." His thumb ran down the wet fabric covering your slit. Humiliation burned through your body as it loosed a twitch.

"You don't want it?" He asked, thumb pressing the fabric of your panties just past your entrance. He toyed with the spot, wiggling the covered pad around to fluster you. "Don't want to get fucked proper?"

You stayed silent as Douma's fingers hooked in the band of your panties and shimmied them off your hips.

He groaned at the sight of your sticky cunt, wetness threading the organ to your panties. Your need was silent, proof on your lips-

"I- fuck I do." Desperation had been a trait you'd been warned against for all of your life. It was one of those unattractive woman things, but that's all Giyu had been good for. Making you desperate. Part of you wondered if he was doing somebody a solid- lowering your expectations and sending you back to the wolves.

Douma was a good kisser, and he was good with his hands. Which sucked, because there was something very upsetting about such an awful man being so predisposed to making you aroused-

But his tongue was dominating yours, leaving no crook of your mouth untouched, yet his movements were impossibly gentle- almost aware of how you needed to be treated so you wouldn't run before he could fuck the use out of you.

His hands were no different, toying with your chest. He'd invaded your top only seconds before, and yet he drove your nipples hard instantly. Giyu had been fond of your chest as well, but this went beyond fondness. It was almost scary how well Douma was playing your body, and he hadn't even fucked you, yet. Hadn't even seen the nipples he was bullying, but knew just how to tease them.

Douma had a sickening habit. Every moan you'd make, He'd trade you one back. Not a genuine one, but a mimic, as though to mock your reaction. To remind you of your stone cold denial of him earlier, and how stupid you looked wailing under his hand now.

When his fingers went entirely inside, it was even better. This was sex, you figured. The little burn but commitment Giyu had never wanted to give. You had begged him for months. Pleaded, only giving in when he wanted to touch. Always left waiting for the once in a blue moon he bothered.

Douma had been so easy, and felt so good- his fingers pounding your needy cunt with verve while his lips grinned against your ear with elation. The warmth of his jeaned knee- the sight of his bangs dangling infront of your own crossing eyes-

"Virgin tight cunt. I can't believe you're real. You must be insatiable, now."

Douma's cock felt like salvation. Like a water bottle after a drought. It slid into your begging pussy with a wet squelch. Douma's body warmth felt like a fire in a snow logged cabin. His right hand kept your hands locked between the two of you, his left yanking your hair back so he can mar your neck- a mark for everyday you'd gone with out. Tallys for your unwillingly abstinence.

He'd keep that number in mind. You needed a cum for every one you'd been deprived of.

"Give me my name, Doll. Whose cock are you creaming on?"

"D-Douma's-!" Another one ripped through you, Douma spreading your legs with his so you got the full package. You didn't even know your cunt was capable of housing such a beast- let alone so many loads-

By the time Douma had finished, you weren't of this world anymore. You'd cried and begged, came and went- and you rested mindlessly with four or so batches of his seed stored lovingly in your womb.

Giyu hadn't been standing outside of the door when Douma walked out, but he'd been close enough for Douma to know he and you hadn't just been heard- you'd been listened to.

Giyu was disheveled clearly having attempted rest at some point through the fuckfest three doors down, but unable to succeed.

"I didn't take you for such a... forgetful lover." Douma taunted, laughing as he wiped off one of your many orgasms from his fingers.

"Keep your remarks to yourself."

"Keep your girlfriend satisfied." Giyu grimaced at the response. Douma merely smiled. "You know, I feel like I should tell you something right now, but I just can't place it."

"I may not be with her, but I know you're bad for her. We all know you're bad for her. Back. Off."

"You're a complete moron." Douma sighed. "For that, I've completely forgotten whatever well meaning man on man advice I had for you." He threw the wadded up toilet paper toward Giyu and turned back toward your room.

Giyu wanted to say something, wanted to be angry, wanted to lash out- but he simply turned his head down. Douma knew what you meant, then.

"I feel like I've seen the top of his head more than his eyes.'

Douma couldn't see just what you saw in the man. Giyu was attractive, sure, so maybe, Douma considered, you were just greviously insecure, and Giyu had been nice in the right moment.

He wouldn't fuck you, or fight for you- hell, Giyu could barely keep the erection your emotional demise had caused hidden.

Douma rolled his eyes. His ringed finger tapped against your door frame. He turned his back to Giyu with no fear. A talent he had to start fucking into you at the next convenience.

"I'll keep your girlfriend warm til you figure out how to do it yourself, yeah? Later, Tomioka."

[dom1re]

Hi 👋🏽 I so admire your arts too!! If it’s ok, I’d love to know more about your approach to shading and rendering. I always find your use of colour so calming and complementary. 💖💖

Whereas I tend to be over saturated and why I often draw in greyscale

When I read that you liked my arts too I died. I was down on the floor. Crying tears of joy. Then I realized I have a response to draft so I got up.

So here ya go!! I hope you find something interesting here. I organized it into 3 parts for easier reading:

Rendering Overview

Picking Colors

Shading (or winging it and hoping for the best)

Also if anyone has any tips I'm all ears!! I’m always trying to optimize my process, make it quicker + cleaner

Rendering Overview

My current rendering process on Procreate (click and swipe):

1. Rough sketches

This is where I try to get the anatomy and pose right. I can get up to 3 reps in here depending on how refined I want it to be. Yep I care a lot about my lines...

2. Clean line

... coz it's my favorite part!! I get such a dopamine rush seeing the sketches come together into a clean line lol. Here I use the Selection Tool and Liquify to resize and adjust the forms (gotta move away from doing this too much tho)

3. Color

First I create a flat base layer and color over it using Clipping Mask (pretty standard I think). Then I divvy my drawing into as many layers as possible - one each for skin, hair, shirt, waistcoat, trousers, etc - as I color them all. More on this below.

4. Shade

ewww shading... my least favorite part. I use Multiply layers and gray colors, again pretty standard. I usually have 1-3 layers here, stacked on one another, depending on the desired depth. More on this below.

5. Finishing touches

This stage involves a lot of small (but important imo) things, which vary depending on the drawing:

Tinting lines (Because shading makes the colors darker, lines need to get darker too)

Highlights on hair, face, clothes, eyes, etc. I can never make up my mind between Overlay/Hard Light/Soft Light layers for this

Little wisps of hair or lighting effects 

and voila I have something to share with the world. wooo

Picking Colors

Ok about my colors… I wish I had some fancy technique to show but tbh I just eyeball them and try them out a bunch. Now if I’m using a reference I could use the color picker, but I don't like to coz the results are way off for whatever reasons (ex. lighting in the img). Anyways it doesn’t have to be the same color as the reference; as long as the colors “make sense” to me I'm happy.

But what if the colors I chose are too saturated or too dark? I use the Adjustment Tools for this. I can just select the layer (or an area using the Selection Tool) and edit its darkness and saturation. I found this way easier than painting over or color-dropping repeatedly.

This is why I leverage as many layers as possible. It allows a modular control on my rendering - I can change the color of my character’s skin, eyes, or waistcoat patterns and keep all other components unaffected and clean. Sometimes I have like 100+ layers and it drives me batshit crazy but the pros still outweigh the cons. Or so I tell myself

( + I would love to understand grayscale and use it as freely as u do. I watched bunch of vids on it but something about it just hasn’t stuck with me yet 😔)

Shading I guess

Similar to coloring, I create several Multiply layers and stack them together for depth. For example:

This is again for that modular control but honestly I wouldn't be doing this if I was good at shading... I feel so lost every time, I just don't know how it works. But one ‘hack’ I’ve come up with is shading skins and clothes differently. I use reddish gray for skin (and brown/red hair), and just gray for everything else.

The character feels more lively and natural with a bit of red undertones in their skin. I don't think this is the best way to render skins though. Just a little shortcut til I get to study the topic more.

Something else I do to get over my fear of shading is using good references. I’m always lurking on Pinterest for them but alas, I can’t always find that perfect image with perfect lighting and poses. It’s kinda sad funny how the quality of my rendering depends so much on the reference:

(it's not a 'bad' reference per se - I chose it really for the pose, not for shading)

At the end of the day tho I’m just a learning artist so I try not to be too harsh on myself. Someday I'll render shiny shoes and shirt creases without refs. I yearn for that day 

Well on that cheerful note thanks for coming to my Ted Talk your interest in my rendering approach! I’ve been wanting to document it for my own records so this was great.

I picked up digital illustration just last year and self-learning it has been a fun but lonely process. If you have any tips or more questions talk to me ANYONE PLEASE I’m dying to talk about it if you can't tell by the sheer length of this post. For which I'm sorry but hopefully it wasn’t too dense a read ok I’m really done now bye!! 

[montammil]

June of Doom Day 18 - "I'm fine."

| Self-defense | Allergies | Headache |

Characters: Lawrence, Marshall

Just a hurt/comfort fic with Lawrence (carewhumper). May have passed out during a blood draw today, but good news is I'm switching onto sub-q injections, so I'm pretty hyped for that.

CW: Carewhumper, stockholm syndrome, parental whumper, infantilzing whumper

...

The last thing Marshall wanted was to let Lawrence know he had bad allergies and headaches, so he kept quiet when he needed medicine or stayed in bed when the headaches kicked in. Lawrence had just started trusting him alone on his own again, and he didn't want to ruin that progress. So he suffered through the pain, waiting until the symptoms subsided again.

Usually it wouldn't be an issue. He could power through the allergy season and his migraines would calm down by themselves. It was nothing he wasn't used to dealing with.

But this year was different.

For some reason, his symptoms were getting worse every day. The air outside was chilly, making his nose run all the time, which made his sinuses hurt worse than usual.

Maybe it was because he used to be living in the big city, and now he was living in an area surrounded by much more nature than he was used to.

Who knows, but whatever it was, it was irritating as fuck.

His nose was stuffed constantly. It made him lightheaded and dizzy, and he would accidentally walk into the walls. His headache worsened the more he sneezed, and he would wince just from the sound of his own voice.

Talking aggravated his throat, and every swallow felt like sandpaper. He was starting to get anxious from all this discomfort.

While Lawrence was at work, Marshall figured he could make use of the house to make himself more comfortable. He raided the bathroom cupboards and drawers for any sort of allergy medicine, but everything was locked, as per usual.

He huffed. He supposed he'd have to make due without it.

Marshall put a humidifier in the living room to make his nose less dry and grabbed an extra blanket to curl up in. He decided to make a blanket fort to read in, so he spent his time carefully laying out the cushions and pillows in a circle on the floor. After he was satisfied with how it looked, he went back to his room to grab his books, blankets, and a flashlight.

He was careful to set everything up in a way that wouldn't collapse, as he planned on spending most of his day inside it.

It looked flimsy and rushed compared to Lawrence's blanket forts, but it would do.

He hid his head beneath the mountain of pillows, sighing in content at the moisture in the air. This made it much easier to breathe. He blew his nose, which only helped slightly, and opened one of his books.

By the time Marshall had finished, he fell asleep with his book splayed open on his chest.

He used to get nothing but nightmares every night, but once he accepted his life with Lawrence, things were starting to turn up. Now it was only occasionally he'd get one. He considered that a success.

When he woke up, he saw a tall figure standing in the entrance to his fort. He flinched back until he realized it was only Lawrence, who was giving him an amused smile.

"Hi, kiddo. I see you've been busy today."

"Hey." Marshall sniffled. "Uh, I was just reading. Sorry, I guess I kind of took over the whole room. I'll clean it up."

Lawrence crawled under the fort to join him. "Oh, don't even worry about it. I like seeing you do your own thing when I'm away." He put a hand to Marshall's forehead, frowning in concern. "Are you feeling sick at all?"

Marshall leaned into the touch. He really did appreciate when Lawrence checked up on him, though sometimes it annoyed him. "I think it's just allergies or something. I kept my window open all day yesterday and forgot that ragweed is, like, everywhere at this time of year." He sighed when Lawrence's frown deepened. "I'm fine."

"My poor baby." The blond combed the hair from his face. "How about I grab my laptop, and we watch a movie in here? And I'll fix us some dinner."

It was rare he allowed Marshall to have food anywhere that wasn't at the table, but he enjoyed being spoiled every now and then. Marshall nodded eagerly.

Lawrence chuckled. "Alright, I'll be back." He pressed a kiss to his forehead and then slipped out of the fort. Marshall sat up and watched his silhouette leave.

He listened to the faint sounds of dishes clanking and the tap turning on, letting his eyes close. His head ached, but at least he was breathing through his nose again. He made himself as small as possible beneath the sheets and buried his face in his pillow.

A few minutes passed before he heard Lawrence return, pulling him back into reality. He shuffled in after him, placing the laptop in between them. He then handed him his dinner plate.

"What is this?"

"Chicken couscous."

"Which is...?"

"Okay, Mr. My-entire-diet-consists-of-chicken-nuggets-and-Kraft-macaroni, it's kind of like pasta. Just try it." Marshall pouted at him but did so anyway, taking a small bite. He hummed at the flavor, nodding in approval. Lawrence grinned and ruffled his hair. "See? It's not that hard to eat something other than chicken nuggets, is it?"

"I can't believe you're mocking me while I'm dying of allergies," Marshall joked.

Lawrence perked up. "Speaking of." He grabbed a bottle of meds from his pocket and shook two pills into his palm. "Take those, and your allergies should clear up in a bit."

Marshall took them with the glass of water he was handed, and then dove back into eating. He watched Lawrence scroll through a bunch of movies. It took Marshall a moment to figure out he was waiting for him to pick one.

"Finding Nemo?"

Lawrence smiled. "Good choice, kiddo." He clicked on the movie and picked up his food, leaning back against the propped up pillows. The younger man mirrored him, tucking himself beneath the blankets again.

Halfway through the movie, he could feel his eyes getting heavy. He stifled a yawn, hoping Lawrence wouldn't notice. But of course, he did.

The blond pulled him closer, allowing him to rest his head on his shoulder. He played with his hair, making Marshall's eyelids droop. Marshall pushed his forehead against his shoulder in attempt to ease the headache trying to make an appearance again.

"Get some rest. I don't mind."

Marshall shifted uncomfortably. "'Kay, Dad."

Once the word slipped past his lips, he tensed and slowly glanced at Lawrence to gauge his reaction. Lawrence beamed and planted a kiss on his head.

Marshall pretended to be disgusted and squirmed in his hold. Lawrence laughed. "Oh, Marshie, don't be like that. I thought you'd never say that." He peppered his face in kisses, his slight facial hair scratching him, proof he hadn't shaved in record time.

"Stoooppp!" Marshall giggled. He hid under the covers again, his cheeks reddening from embarrassment. As humiliating as Lawrence could be, his real parents hadn't given him this kind of comfort in years. "You're evil."

"Say it again, please?"

"No."

"Pretty please? With a cherry on top?"

"That you're evil?"

"Marshaaalll..."

Marshall secretly enjoyed how Lawrence seemed more wrapped around his finger than the other way around. He could ask for anything and the blond would give it to him without a second thought, as long as it wasn't freedom. And honestly? He truly didn't want that anymore.

This felt more freeing than being trapped in his old house, with all his worries and fears from the outside world slipping away.

"You're so annoying... Dad."

Lawrence buried his nose in Marshall's hair. He could feel his smile against his scalp. "I love you so much, kiddo."

Marshall stopped himself from reciprocating the words. He felt like Lawrence would have a heart attack right then and there if he did. Instead, he just basked in the comfort, listening to Lawrence's steady heartbeat and the movie playing in the background.

[watchingblsnowandforever]

My updated GMMTV 2024 lineup in order of my preference: (these are only the QLs. Most of the het shows fall under my Indifferent category. If I feel like it, I'll watch them.)

The Heart Killers. Pretty sure this is #1 on most of y'alls lists and for good reason too. My reasons? Pretty simple. I love action, mafia and romcom and this is all in one. And also FirstKhao and JoongDunk so-

Peaceful Property. After TayNew outdid themselves in the beautiful soft little thing that was Cherry Magic Thailand (anyone wanna join my Cherry Magic Th propaganda?), I can't wait for this series. Also: if they give me besties, it'll be a hard pill to swallow but I'll be fine, but if they give me bromance, I'll commit homicide.

Pluto the series. A GL? With NamtanFilm? I'm in.

Revamp. Previously: The Vampire Project. Love me some vampires <3. Also, BounPrem.

Sweeth Tooth, Good Dentist. The plot sounds super fluffy and cheesy, so of course I'm in. And no way I'm missing Mark Pakin first lead. (Also, as a dessert-loving person who had many teeth-related problems as a kid, the premise just sounds too relatable. Except the falling in love part with your dentist obviously.) But... JittiRain. I have complicated feelings for her works.

ThamePo/My Heart Skips A Beat. It seems soft and sweet, though it does have the secret/forbidden relationship overtones.

Ossan's Love. I found the trailer hilarious, but trailers, especially pilot trailers lie. Also, I'm not hearing the greatest things about the original, but I haven't watched it so I will reserve judgement. If I like it I'll like it I guess.

Us the series. You might ask how a GL ended up so low in my list. Personally, it's a bit jarring to see BLs have this safe space/bubble for their gay bois, but GLs are proclaiming love between women as "taboo" off the bat. I also saw this in 23.5, and yeah okay I get it, wlw is seen in a much harsher eye sometimes, but in 23.5 all Ongsa did was go on repeating "But we're both girls..." without explaining the why and resolving it properly. For now, I will not think too much into it, and worry about it when the time comes.

Perfect 10 liners. What put me off in the trailer itself is the clear discrimination based on looks/physical appearances. It also seems like at this point they're just trying to give each pairing some screen time this year but have run out of plots, and are thus shoving pairings into series like it's the metro/tube/subway/whatever you call it in your country during rush hour. Will I like it? We'll see. After New Siwaj gave me the masterpiece that is We Are, and crushed my doubts like mosquitoes, I'm willing to give Perfect 10 Liners a good strong chance. The premise still bothers me a bit, but I'm keeping an open mind.

Finished Airing:

We Are. It's absolutely great for my tastes and I get to detox once every week. Love it. Has absolutely no plot but has loads of fluff, and it's something I didn't know I needed in my life until I had it. It's one of my favourite BLs ever, and it's definitely going on my comfort shows and re-watch list. It will forever live on in my memory. I definitely keep coming back to this. Very high on my list and my #1 comfort show.

Only Boo. I kinda like it, but I have zero idea where they plan to go with the current storyline. Fluffy and cute, I'll keep watching, but it probably won't end up high on my favourites list. I'm behind on a couple of episodes (I'll catch up before ep. 12, no worries) and I was right. I do like it. It's something new, and I'd like GMM to explore this more, but it's not ending up very high on my favourites list.

Wandee Goodday. My favourite fake boyfriends with benefits! I'm behind a couple episodes with this too (sorry, my brain has been a little too obsessed with We Are T~T) but overall, I really like it. It's P'Golf, so I never had any doubts, but I do worry a little about the angst. It's bearable till now, so fingers crossed. I really like it! College has reopened, so I'm behind on the last two episodes, but I'm hoping I'll be able to complete it by this week. Final update: I've finished Wandee Goodday! All around, it's a very good BL. It dared to explore, and I'm impressed. Top 20 BLs.

Currently Airing:

My Love Mix Up! Thailand. I'm still skeptical, not gonna lie. But it's GemFourth. And I didn't feel much about the first few eps of MSP either, and look what happened with that. I still don't know how hard the original will clash with Thai BL's specific style, but I'm willing to take the chance. Please don't disappoint me. I like where this is going. They are so cute and lovely, and that high school vibe is evident. All I need now is for ep 11 curse to not happen. (From what happened in MSP, I think there will be some sort of conflict in the last ep, but as long as I don't have to wait one whole week for it to get resolved, I'm okay with it.)

The Trainee. Well, it's OffGun's usual tsundere seme/innocent uke. Office romance though- that's new. I guess they finally graduated from university 😭😂 I don't feel anything about it right now, but let's see what happens when it starts airing. Rating changed. It's only been four episodes (and I missed today, that is ep 4, because I have college early tomorrow) but I like where this is going. I think it's going to be the typical 5-7 romance ep pattern, but as long as they don't bring back the ep 11 curse, it's all good.

[velvet-vox]

(This post is wrong as all hell. Please, only read the notes and reblogs of this mess.)

The Confession Discourse.

(Imagine lacking so much time and will that you take almost two months to answer one single rebuttal)

This post is simultaneously a follow up to my previous confession on @md-confessions and a response to @oldmanjenkins985 's confession on that same ask blog.

Originally, I wanted this whole argument to be a @md-confessions blog's exclusive thing, but I was too slow, and the confession box was closed, so now, after delaying it for weeks, I've finally decided to make my response to the whole thing, while also keeping some unsaid stuff for myself for when I'll eventually finish writing my giant critique of Doll, who at this point I'm not sure if I want to publish before episode 8 or not. You can find the links to all of the confessions that I'm talking about right above, in the coloured words.

I think that the best way to start this response is by going through @oldmanjenkins985 's confession and rebutting each and every point with my opinion, then I'll start speaking more generally on the whole subject matter while providing the reasons that drove me to make that original confession.

Read and Rebuttal.

"So, basically the way you talk about rewriting the story is that you just want an almost completely different story than the one we got. Getting rid of the school elements? Say goodbye to episode 3 and 4. 2 can still happen but there's some stuff that needs to be cut and stuff to fill those gaps."

Alright, so, to be perfectly clear, I wasn't saying that I wanted an entirely different story than the one we got. Originally, while making that confession, I was under the assumption that it was always Liam's intention to eventually escalate the story to "end of the universe" proportions, and that the reason why he decided to rush so much of the plot was to get to that aforementioned conflict with the Absolute Solver. Therefore, my suggestion was that, since Vickers seemed more interested in the apocalyptic aspects of his story and didn't have the time or resources to flesh out anything else, he should have sacrificed the whole school setting earlier on (since, despite how much I like it, it was kind of useless after the pilot, where it set up Uzi's character and flaws. It was semi useful in ep 2 and 3 to also set up Doll's character, but I'm currently advocating her erasure, so those instances don't matter to our argument) and just went straight to the things that he actually wanted to tell.

However, as I've learned more about the production history of this show, I no longer believe that to be the case; the Absolute Solver was always a planned thing, but not in the way it is currently iterated; I'm sure Liam rewrote the entire plot so many times, that, whatever he had in mind at the beginning, it's so wildly different from the final product that it might as well be a completely different show.

The school elements were probably very relevant to the first few drafts, but in the final take, they are completely disregardable, and I know that because the show itself quickly disregards a lot of those elements in episode 4, so this isn't even an idea I came up with in my spare time, Murder Drones itself instilled this notion in my head to begin with.

"but 3 and 4 not happening AT ALL like they do, that would have serious ripple effects."

Duh, that's what happens when you change a part of your story, it usually changes your whole story, even if in minor ways.

My main goal here was to make the story of Murder Drones simpler so that it better sticks to the eight 20 minutes long episodes.

In his current form, the story of Murder Drones is too big to be fleshed out in an eight-episode season, we aren't even sure if there'll be a season 2, and even if there was, season 1 is so crammed already that episodes 6, 7, and most likely 8 feel like the ending of a second season to me; that's just how crazy the pacing is.

"And episode 5/6 would probably go down differently as well since Doll wouldn't be there to steal the keybug."

Have you ever wondered why Doll didn't steal the keybug back in episode 4 when Uzi found it in that abandoned warehouse? Neither N nor V were there to help Uzi in case Doll decided to do the same thing that she did to Cyn in episode 6; Doll didn't even need to go straight into the Cabin Fever's labs (even if that's exactly what she ended up doing in ep 6), she could have just simply disappeared into the woods; the main gang doesn't know where her hideout is, therefore, she could have just stalled with the keybug until she figured out a trap or a setup (the one thing she has been consistently excelling at) to get rid of the trio (at least temporarily) and enter Cabin Fever labs to find what she was looking for.

So, why doesn't she do it? Well, it's simple: it's because she doesn't know what the keybug does at this point of the story.

Doll only learns about the secrets hiding down in the elevator shaft off camera through Tessa, who then engages her to steal the keybug from Uzi in episode 5.

Therefore, excluding the fact that yes, episode 2 through 6 would play out differently, Doll, in regards to her choice to steal the bug, it's only a tool for Cyn; and while this wouldn't feel like it if the show was better paced, due to the fact that our protagonists immediately teleport to the labs, and the way her arc plays out in the next two episodes, she also feels like a tool for the plot as well.

Again, all of this would have been perfectly fine with better pacing or more spotlight on Doll as a character, but that wasn't the case, so moving on:

"And Doll just being a plot device and not a character? Don't even get me started on that."

She is a character and a plot device, a lot of fictional characters are simultaneously plot devices, especially protagonists and antagonists, the trick stems in the writer's ability of masking the second component and, ideally, even the first.

Storytelling is all about manipulation; how capable you are to make the audience buy the events being told even if they are completely fake.

Some characters achieve this narrative illusion almost perfectly, while others like Doll are harder to pass by if their writing doesn't hold up.

You can fault me for my excessive scrutiny, but I'm going to explain how I got to this point at the end of the rebuttal.

"She's one of the most tragic and well written characters of the show and I LOVE her.

If it was just for that, I love her as well, but I don't find her to be one of the most well written characters in the show, far from it; I actually consider her to be a hot writing mess, though that doesn't stop me from thinking about her basically every single day.

Do I find her to be one of the most tragic characters in the show? Objectively speaking, no. A lot of other characters had it worse than her, Alice and Beau are technically more tragic characters than Doll, as they never had any other choice at every single turn. V had it worse, N had it worse, Cyn had it worse, Tessa had it worse, heck, you can easily make the argument that J of all people had it worse than Doll. By comparison, if you lack the emotional intelligence to understand that, just because one person's trauma is worse than someone else's it doesn't mean that the other person's trauma doesn't matter, as all life scarring experiences affect us in an indiscernible way, that invalidates certain statements such as "well that person clearly had it worse than you, yet you became a sh####er person than them, so your trauma doesn't matter because you could have just simply overcame it like that one person did, but you didn't because you were always a jerk", Doll just looks like a giant a#####e.

Is her tragedy the one that affected me the most? (Looks back at the several months of emotional damage preceding and succeeding her death) Yes.

I feel like that's partially due to how much I personally relate to Doll, but even if I am fully willing to admit that V's entire life story is technically far more sad than Doll's, I just have way more traits in common with Doll, plus it also helps the fact that Doll (to me) is the most down to earth character in the entire cast. Her serious demeanor may alienate her from the show's tone, but it helps her to be more likable to me, as she, more than any other character, feels like a real world person that reacts accordingly to all of the nonsense and murder happening around her. We don't get enough of the human characters for me to feel like: "Yeah, this guy is definitely me if I was in Murder Drones, I would do the same things and react in the same way to all the horrors happening around me". I like Uzi's and Tessa's quirkiness, and I could be considered a weird-boy even if I never was ostracized in school or emotionally neglected by my parents, but I don't personally relate to their antics and their comedic reactions to the horror moments pale in comparison to Doll's genuine reactions to pretty much anything. Also, while all Murder Drones fans can claim to share some traits with N and V, none of them can really say that they personally relate to being a disposable slave; therefore points to Doll being the most grounded Murder Drones character.

So yeah, Doll is a very tragic antagonist, but I am a Wakfu fan, thus I know the secret ingredients behind a truly magnificent sympathetic villain, and I can say that Doll lacks a lot of the pieces that make someone like Nox such a heart breaking rollercoaster of emotions. Of course, I wouldn't expect you to know what I'm talking about since Wakfu is a pretty obscure franchise, I'm only mentioning it for propaganda reasons, but nonetheless, I'm pretty confident in saying that I know what differentiates a good sympathetic villain from a truly great one; Doll has a lot of pieces of the latter but she ends up falling into the former due to various reasons, most noticeable reason of all being that she never feels like the protagonist of her own story, just a side character that refused to remain as such.

Loving her doesn't stop me from thinking about her critically. Soon we are going to discuss what her place in the narrative is and why it doesn't work in the way it was intended to.

"Her flaws especially."

I would really like to open up a tangent here, but I feel like that's a discussion for another day; so sure, you love her flaws, go on.

"She's very much a mirror to Uzi. Both had their parents (or parent in Uzi's case) get killed by disassembly drones, both are infected with the Solver, and both want to figure out what the hell it is and how to fix themselves. The difference between the two, is that Doll SAW V rip her parents apart while laughing."

There are way more differences than that, but I'm sure you already knew that, sorry for being incapable to pick up on sarcasm.

"Uzi was likely only a baby when Nori died, and even if she wasn't she didn't personally see her die."

I have nothing to say here, but I thought that it would be better to separate this sentence from the next one, just to narrow down the focus.

"That was what let her get over her grudge, because she had a grudge against a concept, while Doll had a grudge against a person."

This sentence doesn't make any sense to me. People can absolutely have a grudge against a concept, and Doll's hatred for the Disassembly Drones being targeted rather than vague like Uzi's hatred is (even if Uzi doesn't hate the Disassembly Drones, though I'm not sure what that scene with Uzi in episode 2 "The humans sent you without a communication relay and reformatted your memories to soup. Covering their tracks means that they are past negotiating. Not like they tried negotiating with my mum" was supposed to mean. Uzi in general is such a strange character to me, weird-girl my a##, Uzi stans, your daughter is straight up an enigma) it's not what allowed one to get over their grudge compared to the other.

One example of this is Bradford Buzzard from the DuckTales remake: he was traumatised as a kid by her strict grandma, who forced him to go on dangerous adventures with her, so when he grew up started hating the entire concept of adventures, and sought for a way to eliminate all unpredictable elements from the world and his life. This is only one example but you get the idea.

To be fair, you did mention the fact that you were tired when you started writing this, so I'm pretty sure that you weren't reflecting carefully when you wrote this part, plus once a confession is sent you can't correct it anymore, as such, I believe you would have probably changed this sentence if you taught about it a little longer. Therefore, I'll just let this one slide.

"Doll continuously decides to work by herself as a result, unable to overcome her hatred for V (very understandably mind you)."

Absolutely, screw all those people who said that Doll was being unreasonable by not joining sides with Uzi, 90% of all normal human beings wouldn't want to stay anywhere close to their parents murderer, especially Doll, who for some reason is the most realistic member of the cast, even if she isn't human. Plus, if you believe the theory that Doll's parents were killed during the pilot (there are some plot holes in the timeline of events for both this theory and the "child Doll saw her parents die" theory, but that's something for another day), then it's technically Uzi the one who created her rival, which would contradict the "Doll is completely consumed by revenge" allegations, as Doll weirdly enough sympathizes with Uzi and *insert here a giant analysis of Lizzie's line in Episode 3 "Dude, no one is gonna notice she is missing. Just do your thing, and I'll let in V" and how many questions it raises* despite her knowing that she was the one to let in her parents killer.

But ok, this is completely unrelated, let's move on.

"This ultimately ends up getting her killed because she alone could not take on the Solver, a threat we time and time again have seen to only be stoppable when people work together against it. When Uzi and N work together in ep 2, Doll protecting Lizzy in the same episode, in ep 4 when N helps Uzi regain control, in ep 7 when Nori and N fight back against possessed Uzi. Then think about all the times it succeeded. In ep 5 at the Gala it had Tessa alone, in ep 7 it had N and Uzi on the ropes when they were alone, in ep 4 when Uzi was on a rampage and V was trying to kill her rather than help her."

Uh uhm.

"Doll's death doesn't ruin her character, it IS her character (might be overexaggerating there but I really liked that sentence). Tragedy and bad choices stemming from reasonable thinking. A result of her going alone, trusting nobody."

I don't know what to say here.

At first I was like "Ehhhhhhhhh, you are kinda right but not in a positive way" but then I realised that there are a lot of right and wrong things in this paragraph, and in order to pick them apart I would have to go through a massive side tangent that would take focus away from the rest of the confession, as such, I'm just going to leave this as it is and maybe I will address it in a future post.

"Also, we don't even know that she's dead! Yes, it's likely she is, but Cyn only swallowed her core. It's possible it gets thrown up in ep 8 and she gets to continue living."

We'll see, but if I was the one who killed Doll in such a dramatic and gruesome way I wouldn't have her revived right away in the following episode, where there are already a lot of ongoing plot lines that need to be tied up; nor would I do this if I want for the stakes to remain high.

Sorry for bumming down your optimism, but I really struggle to see how Doll could possibly bounce back up when she was just brutally executed in the most anticlimactic way possible.

"Don't judge her before the season is done."

I will judge Doll based on what's already present in the episodes because I have very valid reasons to believe that her arc was being made up as the story went on; planner and pantsie are two different terms used to identify the writing style of a writer, the former is for writers who spend time planning out the various aspects of their stories before releasing them, the latter is for writers who make up their story as they go along; both writing styles have their advantages and disadvantages, and writers can actually adoperate both simultaneously if they need to, and that's what Liam Vickers did: he planned out a lot of aspects of his series (at least in the final rewrite), like the Tessa reveal and the Solver mystery, and made up other aspects as the episodes went along, like Doll's entire storyline.

Getting the obvious differences in characterisation between Pilot and series Doll out of the way, have you ever wondered why we get the reveal that Doll's parents have died both in episode 2 and 3? It would have been a lot better if it was just revealed to us in The Promening, after all Liam's writing is hardly ever on the nose when it comes to this type of stuff, why repeat to the audience information that they already know?

That scene with Lizzy and Doll in episode 2 is in general one of the most forced scenes in the show; it serves his purpose of setting up Doll and Lizzie's characters alright, but it doesn't make a lot of sense if you start peeling away at its layers for a while.

I can and will judge Doll as she is right now if her story was being made up as the show went along, I've seen good pantsie writing in my life, and I can usually tell at which point the writer lost sight of his original idea and it's starting to fall apart.

"If you like the series how it is, Doll and the school elements are VITAL. Irreplacable. And if you really don't like how the series went, as it seems you do considering you think it'd be better if the entire thing was rewritted, make a fanfiction"

I like how the series is, but I really like how Murder Drones could have been.

Ideally, in a perfect universe, we would get two 20 episodes long seasons that set up all of the things that have happened in these 8 episodes and also give us plenty of time to flesh out all of the cast, the world, and look at side stories that reinforce the main themes of the series or give us some breathing room between the big events.

Of course, we don't live in that perfect universe; we only have 8 episodes to tell a story, thus, we need to be very thoughtful of what we put inside the plot because we don't have a lot of time to flesh everything out.

Probably, for the story that Liam wanted to tell, 16 or 12 episodes would have been enough, even if it still seems a little bit scuffed, but again, we don't have those, and he should have paid more attention to that fact.

We'll circle back at this in just a moment.

"Whew, that was...a lot. I think you can tell I really like this show. Again, I apologize if I come off as rude or pompous or whatever."

No problems. You sounded genuine.

"I'm just very passionate about the show. I don't think it doesn't have flaws, it is rushed and Liam isn't one for super fine worldbuilding details, but ultimately those barely affect it for me. They dock like, half a point combined for me."

And if that's the case, good for you. I'm happy that you can still enjoy the show the way it is because I've become pretty miserable as a result of picking apart all of its flaws and wishing for them to not exist.

The real Reasons.

Now that I have taken apart all of the individual pieces of the confession, it's finally time for me to provide you with some answers.

The main reason why I wrote that original confession was because of this Other confession, that basically pointed out the fact that confessions as a whole started s#####g ass, and it got me into questioning if I could write something better.

I had a couple of ideas I wanted to discuss, and threw a couple of them into that original text, hoping that it would live up to my standards. @oldmanjenkins985 read it, disagreed with what it had to say, and that's how we've got to this point.

As I have stated in the first part of my rebuttal, I used to believe that Liam Vickers was so interested in his end of the universe storyline that he wanted to go for it at any cost, even if that meant skipping important character work and rushing through most of the plot points he had in mind.

With that assumption, I thought that all the other ideas, like Doll, Alice, Beau and the sentinels, were just things that Liam came up with as production progressed and thought they were too cool to disregard, so he kept them. He kept them even if he didn't have the time to flesh them out or the courage to simplify his story so that we, the audience, wouldn't feel robbed.

I really love Doll.

I can't stress this enough, I love Doll way more than I love Murder Drones.

But exactly because I love her so much, I need to keep her at harm's length; she's not a real person, she's a fictional character, and as such, she can and should be eliminated from the story if the final product would benefit from it.

I'm someone who's willing to make the necessary sacrifices for the sake of art, even if it means eliminating good ideas that can't be done justice in their execution, and I believe Doll to be the biggest example of this due to her own niche role in the narrative and how said niche exists only because of her.

Let me explain: Doll is the main side antagonist of the first season of the show.

Let me repeat that: Doll is the main, SIDE antagonist, of the first season of Murder Drones.

You don't just "make" a side antagonist and drop it into the story because he's important, no, you have to consciously make room for their existence because they are not as necessary to the story as the protagonists, the supporting characters, or the main antagonist. The niche that Doll fills in the story is one that innately benefits her and her only, so she needs extra character work to make sure that she feels connected and important to everything else going on.

Alice and Beau are roadblocks, you could say that they had a lot of untapped potential, but the show never teased us with said potential in the way that it teased us with Doll's, so they don't feel like wasted characters because that's all they were ever meant to be.

I would cut Lizzie and Alice out of the story to give Doll more development, but I wouldn't cut Doll out of the story to give Lizzie and Alice more development.

Two out of three fulfill their roles decently and extra screen time isn't mandatory, the third one has a role that exists only to benefit them and as such they should be given the necessary screen time to make their presence not feel like a burden.

Another thing that I've noticed while writing "The insane, untapped potential of Rebecca from Murder Drones" (which I encourage everyone reading this to check out, as I consider it to be my masterpiece), is that Doll doesn't really tie all that well into any of the themes of abuse present in the show; sure, there's her relationship with Lizzy, but you can interpret that in a miriad of ways, some of which being more healthy than the others, and a lot of them even positioning Doll as the abuser and Lizzy as the still guilty yet repented victim.

Side antagonists or just general side characters whose stories are focused on exist to expand the themes or the world of the setting, and they need to be included into the narrative only if you have the time to focus on them, otherwise they need to remain on the concept board.

My obsession with Doll isn't a temporary fluke, it's going to carry on for the rest of my life.

But guess what? I've been hyper obsessed with a lot of things in my life, Murder Drones being one of them; when the dust will be settled, the only thing that will matter is the quality of the actual show, and in his current state that future isn't looking so bright.

I've seen a lot of Murder Drones creators losing a lot of interest for the show after episode 7, and I myself have lost my suspension of disbelief after having lots of time to internalise it.

I'm not sure if anyone reading this has noticed it yet, but ever since episode 7, the world of Murder Drones has become ten times smaller. We've erased Tessa, the school setting, JCJenson and Doll from the equation; many people now believe that the planet is going to be destroyed and only the most relevant characters will survive its collapse, thus eliminating the entire worker drones society from the plot; all human life is most likely dead and the planet Earth was revealed to have been destroyed back in episode 6; it really feels like with every passing installment the Murder Drones universe just keeps getting smaller as the stakes get higher, and I don't think that's a good thing, it actively harms the potential and creativity of Murder Drones as a series, and it makes it harder for the fear of the unknown to have any sort of impact when the universe is so claustrophobic that it's far easier to assume that all of the undiscovered mysteries are just the angles of the room.

If I had to compare Murder Drones to any other series, I would say that the Epic Mickey franchise is the best way to describe how I feel about it.

Both series are a collection of pretty cool concepts and have a lot of angsty and edgy material as a part of their world building, and both of them execute some of their individual ideas perfectly while the overall product misses the mark of a masterpiece.

And while Epic Mickey is held back by the poor gameplay of both installments and the poor writing of the second one, Murder Drones is held back by a lack of focus and restraint from his creator.

People often point to the founders of Glitch when they try to justify the rushed pacing of the story, but in my opinion, if the higher ups of Glitch were truly responsible for their show's shortcomings, at this point at least one of the members of the crew should have made us aware, and this reasoning still doesn't take away the blame from Liam, as he still has mostly unchecked creative freedom.

Remember that video on Liam's official YouTube channel titled "So I've been given too much creative power and made a show"?

Well, you know what the saying says.

"With great power comes great responsibility"

And this is true even for art.

[brother-emperors]

how long do you typically spend drawing a comic page? I'm a perfectionist and I have a hard time keeping a reasonable working pace for comics

so I’m actually going to not answer this one (the answer is both less and more time than people think, and it depends) but instead I’m going to give you some advice on how to deal with perfectionism when it comes to making comics

the first thing is to see if you can kill your inner perfectionist, which basically means, can you get comfortable with imperfections? this is something that can be difficult to do, but it can also really take some weight off your shoulders if you can look at a line that’s a little squiggly instead of perfectly smooth and move on from it. there’s a whole page, a single wonky line, is like. fine, especially if you’re doing more than one page.

if not, that’s okay! we’re moving on to the 75%-80% rule, which is: figure out what giving 100% in art looks like for you, then find out what giving 70%-80% looks like. As a person, you can probably consistently give 80% to any given illustration, but doing 100% all the time is going to fuck you up in the long run. If you can get comfortable consistently giving a 80%, you can then decide when you want to crank it up for dramatic effect, or you can save going all in on something fun or a big project. if perfectionism is a hard habit to break, instead try it reframe it as giving a ‘perfect’ 80% instead of 100. it’s all about that overall visual consistency, baby!

comics can feel like doing seven or eight individual illustrations on a page (panels) and some people definitely tackle them this way, and that makes learning what you can consistently give without wanting to shove your hands into cement very important. If every panel is a solid 80%, the entire page looks Good (which means the entire page is working at 100% because you have visual consistency/coherency and that’s what matters)

ideally, you reach a point where you can gauge what a good 80% of what you can give looks like across an entire sequence. for me, Trikaranos is operating at 80% while Ex Voto is 70% (part of it is that Trikaranos is more demanding, while Ex Voto is more casual and vibes based, but for both I put a lot more work into formatting and lettering)

part of what can help with all of this is figuring out a good work pipeline that encourages finishing up a sequence to keep you from getting stuck agonizing on small details

a decent one is this

thumbnails > rough pencils > do tight pencils where you think you’ll need it (I do tight pencils on facial expressions, furniture if there are bodies on it, and perspective shots) > inks > colors > lettering

adjust it based on whatever your own needs are, etc.

what’s imperative to this is that you don’t do the pencils > inks > coloring stages in sequential order, but instead jump around so that you don’t burn your energy through it (in that there’s a drop in quality as you either get tired or start to rush). Jumping around lets you spread out your high energy points and it picks up the slack for when you want to just get it done, but also it forcibly keeps you from spending too much time on one specific thing. (which is why breaking it up into stages is important, instead something like finishing one whole page from pencils to colors and then doing the next one)

when I do single page comics, I usually alternate every other panel, when I do multi page comics, I’ll either alternate entire pages or I’ll do the first and last pages at the start, and then jump around the middle in whatever order I feel like.

whenever I find myself spending too much time on something, I will set a playlist that has either a 15 minute or half hour run time, and when I reach the last song, if I’m still fucking around focusing on one thing, I’ll make myself move in and return to it later. I do this the most with the inking stage so that I don’t over ink something (I find crosshatching relaxing, but it doesn’t often look good because I do too much in one place and it looks bad because it doesn’t work with the rest of the panels and then I have to start over), and then I can go back to a panel with fresh eyes later and decide whether or not more detail is necessary for the whole page to look good, or if it’s fine as is.

and ofc, the most important guideline of all: the Fuck It, We’re Done rule, which is at some point, you may look at a page and go ‘I don’t want to work on this any more, I’m tired, it’s not fun, I’ll be stuck here forever, etc’ and that’s when you put your pencil down, physically move back from the page, and figure out what the bare minimum amount of work you need to do in order for the whole page to be coherent is, do JUST THAT, and post it.

at the end of the day, it’s the whole page that’s important, not all the individual details, so try not to focus on too many small details early on, but instead go back and add them in closer to the end. You can clean up any line art mistakes that are bothering you here at this stage too.

finally, don’t zoom in too close on a digital canvas, especially if you’re doing pencils. there’s no reason for a reader to zoom in close like that unless you specifically want them too, spare your hands the agony of tiny details that won’t be seen when you upload it at viewer resolutions. I know artists who won’t go past 150% because those details won’t show up at print resolutions.

HEUGHGHHH this is so so long, but hopefully there is some helpful advice in there for you, anon

[archiveikemen]

💌 From: Erie

Hello!

Previously, I announced a hiatus because I had some personal matters to attend to and with my awful self-control I couldn't really focus on them while balancing TL stuff at the same time. I was also feeling pretty burnt out and needed a break.

Now that I've settled what's important, I think I'm ready to continue running this blog. However, as mentioned in another post, I decided on certain changes I want to make to how I run my blog.

Some of these changes are going to upset some people, but I've been thinking about this for a long time and only made this decision after choosing to prioritise my wellbeing + this is my blog.

Continue under the cut.

First of all... this one isn't a change and you guys already know this because it's in my FAQ post + you can tell by how often I post new stories — unlike some other blogs, I'm not able to translate new stories every single day aka I'm not going to be posting daily story chapter updates. It takes a lot of time to TL and a lot of proofreading before a story is deemed ready for uploading.

Moving on!

I've probably said this at least 5 times by now and keep going back on forth on the decision but this time I'm dead serious.

There will be a change to the order in which I prioritise which game's content I TL. The new order will be: Ikemen Genjiden, Morganatic Idol, Ikemen Villains/Koihana Bakumeiroku/Ikemen Live.

You read that right. I'm going to start TL more MoruDoru content. The reason for this specific order of prioritisation is simply because Genjiden is getting discontinued in August and we don't know whether the app will even still be on the AppStore like IkeRev or it'll end up like IkeLive (IFC) or it just vanishes off the surface of the earth. Moreover, MoruDoru and KoiBaku don't have EN versions; IkeLive is because I want to finish Henri's main story.

Ever since Ikemen Villains EN server launched, I noticed that majority of the fandom is now focused on that and no longer reading translations of JP events even though they're not on EN yet. Which I think is understandable and great because now it's much more convenient for the english speaking fandom to enjoy the game without having to wait for someone to translate stuff. All the events and stories on JP will be on EN eventually. Therefore, I'm going to stop translating main stories and events for IkeVil — this excludes any paywalled stories I may be interested in i.e. ECB, 95K LP bonus, story sale, birthday stories. I'll still TL paywalled stories because I understand that not everyone can obtain them, even when they're out on EN. However, IkeVil remains at the bottom of my priorities.

I'm well aware that I built this blog up and gained majority of my audience from the Ikemen Villains fandom, so I'm truly sorry things turned out this way. But I want translating to be fun again and most of my enjoyment back when I first started my blog came from being able to just TL whatever I'm reading at the time, instead of rushing to TL stories before the next event starts and beating myself up over being slower than others.

That's all I have to say. I don't mind if you want to unfollow me after this, because being "popular" was never my goal to begin with. I thank you for all the support you've given me so far, from the bottom of my heart.

[axailslink]

I'm sorry

Shuri Udaku x poc FEM reader

This is a comfort fic if you've ever felt replaced by a friend or lover well here you are.

Summary: the reader feels very lonely due to the constant spending time with Riri it's breaking the reader's love for Shuri and Shuri notices maybe a bit too late when the reader decides to lock herself away from the world.

You don't want to get up today not just to see them you can't stand it you hate how selfish you feel about it but you just can't stand it the way they have fun and she makes her laugh. You've been together for two years you used to make her laugh like that every little thing you did made her laugh now someone else was doing the job. It's annoying you're sick and tired of it.

Staying in bed was the only option no one could see you glare them up and down and you could hide from all of your emotions. You could honestly forget about it as you're surrounded by the warmth of Shuri's smell and blankets. The warmth of her bedroom causes you to sleep... All day. You forget there are other people in the world just for today you don't eat, you don't use the bathroom, you don't drink water you just lay in bed and forget all your worries.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While you're pretending all of your worries have gone away Shuri's panicking her bedroom door is never locked and she can't get in. She's constantly knocking and kicking at the door "baby! Baby please tell me you're okay" she can't lose anyone else she just can't do it she can't go through that pain again. Shuri calls your kimoyo beads but you don't answer you don't want to experience those feelings again you want to do everything you can to just to forget about them to act as if they don't exist. Because if they don't exist you can't feel the pain. Okoye pushes Shuri aside and hits the door repeatedly with her spear it only bounces off and vibrates causing her to lose her balance "someone open the damn door please" Shuri's a mess but you can't hear anything you're relaxing you're unbothered. However you haven't been to the bathroom all day and your body was screaming at you for multiple reasons this just happens to be the first one you listen to. You slowly get up and open the door surprised to see Shuri, Okoye and Riri. Okoye sighs a breath of relief while Shuri flies to you immediately making you lose your balance causing you to grab onto the door. You can see Riri is in tears she's torn up too and you caused this. You gently pull away "I'm sorry I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry I'm so sorry I'm just selfish sometimes and locking myself away seemed better than dealing with my problems." Shuri watches as you gently push past them and run to the nearest bathroom all the feelings come rushing back as the little voice in your head notes they came to help you together.

Why does it still hurt? Why is your mind conjuring up these things? Shuri came to your aid without question and so did Riri they both care about you a lot. Shuri is the love of your life she'd never do anything to hurt you and Riri's your best friend she loves you just as much. You hear the bathroom stall crack open causing you to look up and it's Riri not Shuri which only makes you roll your eyes "we're sorry whatever we did we're sorry please don't punish yourself or shut us out." You only blink as a reply before pushing her out the stall and locking it you seriously had to use the bathroom. When you're finished you hear multiple feet one walking pattern you recognize way too quick it's Shuri. Shuri crawls under the stall which is something she would usually never do she'd say "that's so unsanitary" but she doesn't as she grabs you in a hug. "This is not your fault I hurt myself I conjured up these ideas about you and Rir-" Riri peaks underneath the stall "what the hell did I do?" You sigh as you let it all spill out "you both just look so happy together without me. Riri you make her laugh uncontrollably and Shuri you just- I'm sorry" you choke on your words as they come out but Shuri only hugs you. "You're being so emotional right now but let me remind you of something you make me laugh every day. Every day and I love you for that you're a god send you've not only done the duties of a girlfriend but you perform them as if you're my wife. So what she makes me laugh? She can never make me laugh as much as you do? She can never love me like you do." "Yeah what she said! We love you girl! And we would never hurt you we're so sorry." You laugh at Riri's finger peaking through the hole to further explain her point.

Shuri kisses your forehead and opens the bathroom stall where you see Okoye's worried face first "ulusapho (family)” is all she says causing an immediate smile to warm your face. You wash your hands and the women walk you out of the bathroom Shuri notices your staggered walking, shortness of breath, dizziness and unbalanced figure. "What have you eaten today my love?" You don't answer because you know she's going to be pissed you can sense the anger boiling in her body but she replies calmly with a smile "then let's get you showered, something to eat, and maybe a bit of water you look colorless." Riri notices that too and replies "I didn't know people of color could look colorless" you smack the back of her head causing her to yelp and for you to smile.

A/n: I'm sorry if this is a bit too personal and sad but I needed this I needed to let this be written. So please enjoy it. Also I didn't go over this at all and I don't want to so any errors just ignore them I guess.

[frostbitebakery]

Fic Writer 20 Questions

I got tagged by the lovely @thejediandthemandalorian thank you 💜💜💜

1.) How many works do you have on ao3

15

2.) What's your ao3 word count?

147,444 words

3.) What fandoms do you write for?

"Writing" is such a strong word. Codywan is the one that inspires me the most at the moment to the point I want to add little backstories.

4.) What are your top five fics by kudos?

I Got My Head Checked

Outtakes of IGMHC

Art for IGMHC

black

Codywan Art and Hubris

5.) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to!! When someone is kind enough to leave a reaction, I should thank them at the very least! Excuse Number 1: I get overwhelmed easily. Excuse Number 2: Especially with long or thoughtful comments, when I answer those I feel like that's the end of that interaction and I don't want that to end

6.) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

It's gotta be one of the Mood Color Panties that ended with an emotional cliffhanger...

7.) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Uhhhhh in terms of happy ending to fic setting ratio? Probably the MCU/Snowpiercer crossover that ends somewhat like the movie wherein they discover that not everything on the outside world is dead and gone.

8.) Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet? *crosses fingers*

9.) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I have written smut. With BDSM and lingerie. But I don't feel the smut groove anymore. Once in a while I do like to dabble in erotica when drawing though

10.) Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I've officially written one (1) crossover of MCU/Snowpiercer. Unofficially, I've chucked words at friends about The Covenant/Fantastic Four where Johnny Storm and Chase Collins are roommates for whatever reason and Chase is trying to close a portal to Hell and fighting off demons while Johnny is oblivious to it all until his Lucky Charms are gone.

11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of. Plenty of art got stolen though.

12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yus! A smutty stucky one-shot got translated into Russian

13.) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Does The Unlucky Ones count??? I just wanted spoopy Cody but I can't not do backstory for AUs, so my mind is churning out the lore. Then @adiduck was like, “hey, I have some ideas for TUO, how about--“ and then I buried her in the sandbox. The only bits I wrote (with Adi's blessing) are the snippets on the artworks. She is writing the fic while we both excitedly yell at each other.

14.) What's your all time favorite ship?

Just one???? All of them have a special place

15.) What's a WIP you'd like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I don't have any fic WIPs atm

16.) What are your writing strengths?

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh quite a lot of people pointed out that my pacing is good, and some people like my humor! Thank you <3

17.) What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm too rushed. And like, a whole lot of technical stuff I don't know.

18.) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I like it. It can add a lot of things to the characters, plot, or setting. What I personally don't like if the words in another language are in italics.

19.) First fandom you wrote for?

Weiß Kreuz. It's in German and the forum it was posted on is long gone. There's an FMA fic on ff.net still. You won't find that one either.

20.) Favorite fic you've ever written?

I Got My Head Checked :D It started as a naive "lolol what would I want Sithywan to look like? just the once", grew to "But listen, Glimmer, it would be so funny if Sithywan is like "I need a week" as his estimation for how long he needs for Cody to spill every secret ever to him, and it ends with Sithywan just getting up in the cell like he's never been injured/tortured at all and going like "Thank you, that's all I need" like some method acting Black Widow type, but internally starting his journey of “omfg I want him carnally and emotionally””, and then it spiraled into 75k words with more catharsis for me as a person than should be possible. And a greenhouse. More IGMHC trivia!!

Oban Ouaine, Qui-Gon's Cody's Venator, is Gaelic for little green bay. I wanted a connection of Qui-Gon and his fandom plants. And I thought Oban Ouaine sounds a little bit like Obi-Wan

the original plan was that the whole Venator is like a jungle with plants everywhere. @elwenyere brought up "they have a greenhouse?" and I ran with that instead, not knowing it would turn into a central stage for hope and healing for the characters

TAG YOU'RE IT: @adiduck @elwenyere @ifonlyweknewwhatiwasdoing @meebles @merlyn-bane @wrennette @lttrsfrmlnrrgby and anyone who wants to bc this was fun!