#i don't know if i will ever actually write anything on this. since i'm not much of an oc x canon type guy. but. the thoughts. they exist.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Not to be a downer, but I actually finished my novel and now I’m confused because I don’t want to publish it. I don’t even particularly want anyone other than maybe my two close friends to even read it. What on Earth did I write 40k words (which I know is not really long enough for a novel, but it’s still far and away the longest thing I’ve ever written) for? I know people say “write for yourself” but like… am I just wasting my time? Help?

(p.s. you can leave this off anon)

(p.p.s your blog is really great 👍)

There's No Such Thing as Wasted Writing

I'm going to tackle this two ways...

#1 - "Write For Yourself" - there's a reason this common phrase has echoed through the Hall of Writers since time immemorial. It's because it's true! Writing doesn't have to be anything more than a pastime. It doesn't have to be anything more than something you do for your own benefit and enjoyment.

I have an in-joke with family members about how any time one of us does something the least bit crafty, DIY, skilled, whatever, a particular family member will always say, "You did a great job! You should do it for a living!" Like, someone can't even crochet a Kawaii mushroom without being pressured to turn it into an Etsy dynasty, or paint a cabinet without being pressured to become the next Property Brothers. And that's such a BANANAS capitalistic mindset, isn't it? This idea that nothing can be done purely for our own enjoyment. That you can't just write a novel because you want to... you can only write it if you plan to share it or publish it? It's just so silly.

And, the thing is, we don't even apply that mentality to a lot of other things people do purely for enjoyment. No one is streaming all of Bridgerton in two nights and saying, "I enjoyed every second of that, but why did I do that? Such a waste of time!" No one spends an hour strumming their guitar under the stars on a beach, and then says, "That was so relaxing and fun, but I didn't charge for that performance and I didn't record it to sell it, so that was obviously a waste of time."

You know what I mean?

#2 - And Anyway, Practice Makes Perfect - And if you keep writing--even if you continue not to share or publish--you'll get better and better with each story you write. Which, maybe all that means is you get to appreciate your own improvement, but also, should you ever change your mind and decide to write something to share or publish, you've now spent time honing your skills. Even if those other stories never see the light of day, they're still an important foundation of the writer you become. Do you know how many unpublished novellas, novels, and short stories I have? Too many to count. Hundreds of fan-fiction and original fiction short stories I've only shared with one or two other people, if anyone. A dozen or so novels and novellas that have only been read by a few people, and some haven't been read by anyone else or have only been read by my CPs. I would never consider those stories and novels and novellas to be a waste of time, because I know every single one made me a better writer. My published work is better because I wrote those other things.

So, I hope that makes you feel better. At the very least you hopefully enjoyed writing your novel--or at least got something out of it--and you definitely honed your writing skills, which matters! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[prone-to-fleeting-obsessions]

(An Aventurine/reader one shot, short and sweet, established relationship, mildly suggestive at the end if you squint, trying to get back into writing real stuff after a year so idk about the quality)

It was methodical. The tapping, the way his fingers thrumbed rhythmically on the table, one after the other, how his rings would sometimes catch the light as he did. What an odd thing to notice...

Aventurine was mindlessly tapping the bar top as he watched you with eyes like blades, slicing deep into you. Not harshly of course, as if he could ever look at you harshly... But intense all the same.

That ever-present smile was more strained than usual. Another odd thing to notice, really, especially when you were supposed to be avoiding looking at him, eyes trying to find anything else to focus on.

"Hello, friend."

It made you tense, that infliction... It sent the nerves under your skin into a frenzy, unsure whether to flee or fight, really wanting nothing more than to just disappear. He didn't seem keen on letting you off the hook, though.

"Don't give me that look. I'll almost believe you don't wanna see me."

He teased, sliding into the barstool next to you, his arm brushing yours, making you suppress the urge to jerk away.

He'd been singling you out ever since he noticed your active avoidance, you could tell. The last few days, the amount of time you've 'accidentally' run into each other in public... You cringed slightly at the thought, it wasn't coincidence.

He huffed at your silence, rolling his pretty eyes as he gestured for the server to make you another of whatever drink had been long forgotten in front of you, condensation pooling on the table.

"Actually, I was just leaving—"

The words died in your throat as he put his hand under your chin, tilting your head up with a teasing little smile. It was almost like his face softened when he held yours, his smile a bit more genuine than that strained mess you've seen the last few days.

"Oh don't be like that, darling. This one's on me after all. I miss that pretty face of yours." He tilted his head, blonde hair falling over his eyes as he looked at yours, as if analyzing every little feature. Once satisfied, he let go, humming happily, leaving you utterly confused and a little flushed, as much as you were trying to stay cold and unreadable. An air of silence settled for a moment, and only a moment.

"You've been avoiding me."

He spoke thoughtfully, just as playful as it was accusatory.

"I... I haven't—"

Still not keen on letting you finish a sentence, he cut you off.

"Now now, don't go lying to me. A good relationship is built on trust." He chided, almost scolding. His hand settled on the back of your head, his fingers absentmindedly playing with your hair as he went back to analyzing your every little micro expression.

"I've been busy." You finally spoke, the tone not having the bite you would have liked.

"...You're still upset."

He sighed, arms falling away completely as he opted to rest his head on his hand, almost pouting.

"Come on, darling, work with me..."

That was said more to himself as his eyes strayed, his pout becoming more prominent.

It was true you were upset. Livid even. Another one of his little gambles, life threatening as usual, ended with a nasty little gash right at the base of his neck. It was healing nicely at least, probably wouldn't even leave a trace, but the implication remained. Something sharp enough to cut was pressed right up against his jugular, tearing into that pristine skin of his.

His composure was faltering slightly at your silence, lips twitching into a notable frown as he shifted slightly, trying to get ever closer. You finally couldn't ignore him anymore when his arms snaked around your waist, head moving to rest on your shoulder as he looked up at you through his eyelashes.

"I'm sorry..." He practically whispered against your skin, his breath ghosting on your neck, making you shiver involuntarily.

"I know you don't like when I do things like that... You know I can't help it."

It was truly in his nature, you knew that... He had nothing to lose but his own life for so long, a meager sum in his own eyes, and it was... difficult, for him to rewire his brain to accept his life was something actually cherished by another. The purely devotional look he gave wasn't lost on you. A look that asked, kindly, for understanding, through a plea that would have died in his throat if he even thought about manifesting it.

Punishing him hardly seemed fair, but for him to still be so stubborn...

You gently brushed a few of the stray hairs out of his face, and he absentmindedly leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering.

"I know. I still don't like it." You spoke quietly, bluntly, but there were only so many ways to phrase the fact you'd rather him not greet death so openly, so familiarly.

"I've missed you..." He spoke back after a moment.

Your avoidance had left a pain much more pronounced than the little cut on his neck. An unpleasant reminder of where his weaknesses really lay. You didn't say it back, but it was obviously true.

"...I know."

He smiled slightly at that, leaning up till eye level to steal a quick kiss, his lips just grazing yours for a moment, hands on the back of your chair as his body leaned over yours. He was all of about two inches from being on top of you and showing a fair bit of restraint for someone denied of their lover touch for so long.

"Want to go back to my hotel room, darling? I'd like to make it up to you." He mumbled with a grin, close enough for you to smell his cologne, a certain palatable need in his voice. Whether it was just for your touch, away from prying eyes, or for something more than that, was left hanging in the two inches of air between you.

You hesitated, but nodded, and as soon as you did, he laced his fingers with yours, palm to palm, a certain intimacy in that action alone.

He tossed a few bills on the counter without glancing at the amount as he pulled you straight out the door, happily really to indulge in what he'd been so longing for, with the silent promise that he wouldn't let this event repeated itself.

[dira333]

Behind the scenes of a Tumblr Writer - Tag Game

Hey there, I love behind the scenes and since this is something that's rarely talked about, let me start the chain... if you feel uncomfortable with a question, just skip it. You can add some if you want as well.

Started writing: I wrote my first Harry Potter fanfic at age 10. Started posting around 15,16 years old. I'm now 31, so...

Started blogging: I started on a German fanfiction site around 2010/11 I think. Might have been earlier too, but back then I was mostly reading, no posting. I really started when I got into One Direction (very late, tbh)

Followers: Currently at 961, which is wild to me. I don't even know that many people IRL. I convince myself that half of them are bots tbh, so I don't freak out all the time.

Communication: The people I talk to regularly are: a few writers who answered after I constantly reblogged and commented on their works and a few people who commented and reblogged my work. Writing and blogging on here can be pretty lonely, depending on your personality and the time you're active (I'm from Europe and a lot of my followers seem to be living in Northern America, so there's the Timezone thing) ... And I found that the best way to strike a conversation is to reblog, comment, and to not be shy. I do wish I got more asks, though....

Likes: I actually filter them out. I have 793 original posts up at the moment. It doesn't give me anything to know how many likes a fic has other than to tell me which characters are liked more than others or maybe that one fic does especially well. My activity only shows me comments, asks, reblogs with tags, and answers to my own asks. I live for the tags and the comments.

Requests: I love talking to people about ideas. That's how I started the plotbunny game because I have so many ideas and so little time. And sometimes an idea just doesn't want to be written out fully. Requests are fun because YAY, I get some mail... but then I freak out because I don't really know how to write this NOW and then I freak out because it's been a week already, two weeks, wait, two months? I'd rather have suggestions where people tell me vague things like "I'd love to read something about this side character" or "Have you ever considered this character with a soulmate trope"? because then I don't have the feeling of failing the request when I write it a little bit differently.

Writing: I am a fast writer. I know that's one of my talents. I can churn out a oneshot of 1k words in less than an hour. People read slower than I write. That can suck sometimes because you've just posted this and you want to know what people are thinking but they're not as fast as you are. I do have a lot of ideas. I want to write constantly but my brain doesn't always want to. I am trying to respect that.

There are also certain things that I just feel wrong writing. I cannot write anything suggestive (I also don't like reading it) and everything past that gives me panic attacks. I can hardly write mean characters and jealousy feels so wrong to me that I cannot write it. I've also overdone it with the soulmark trope and now I feel like everything I write about it feels lifeless.

I write best in the mornings before going to work, but I don't have much time there. I don't need special music (but it helps), but I need to have at least some energy left and at best, no distractions. But I have been writing for over 20 years, so I will say experience helps a lot.

Tagging: @revasserium @shoulmate @lemurzsquad @screamin-abt-haikyuu @toomanygoldfish @satorisoup @emmyrosee @reverie-starlight @alienaiver and @writingsofanomnivore and everyone else who wants to join

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

Double Jeopardy

Story Plot: You are Serenity, an identical twin. Your sister, Trinity, has a man at home named Erik Stevens, but he's in the way of her date with Cabo. She enlists you to keep him on ice until she gets back.

*Trinity is back (angst). And Erik KNOWS. Part 6.

Written for @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

ERIK.

Erik was finding it. The will to move maturely like a man in his 30s, despite the devil on his shoulder. It took him a while to really think things through the last time. He could black on the twins if he chose to, but Serenity was never his problem, and Trinity was already broken when he found her. What would it actually solve? Having sat stirring downstairs alone in front of the television for over two hours, he came to a final decision.

"Aye... come down real quick. We need to talk," he said, hanging up abruptly. Serenity was down within a few minutes, stretching from having just woken up. She'd been in for the night.

"Hm?" She hung near the stairs, tired but ready to run again. He patted the couch cushion next to him.

"I'm not gone touch you, just sit down."

Hesitantly, she drew nearer, sliding in beside him. He gave her a second to relax her nerves while he got his thoughts together.

"Are... we good," she asked, her head slowly ticking his way.

He let the silence breathe before breaching the subject. "I need you... to tell me the truth now. About everything. No more lying. Just come clean."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't...," she sighed. "Don't do that."

Serenity stared at him like he hadn't the slightest idea of what he was referring to.

SERENITY.

Did he know? How could he? When could he? He couldn't. Could he?

You stare at him hard, trying to figure that out. He knows something.

"If I have to say it first... then I'm a be pissed again. If you say it first, I'll give you the chance to explain your side." He waits, growing increasingly impatient with each passing second, but remaining silent. The second he smirks in frustration and opens his mouth to speak, you stop him.

"You ever have that one person you'd do anything for? You'd live and die for them because you know they'd do the same."

He looks at you but doesn't answer. You don't think he's experienced it, but he can still feel what you're saying.

"The way we grew up," you swallow. "We were always tight. It's the thing with being a twin. No one really understands unless they're a twin."

"I get it," he says softly. You sigh, having the realization that he's known.

"How long have you known," you gesture between the two of you, truly curious. "I didn't think it would go this far. No one ever figures it out."

"Well, you two are very different. For one, Trinity doesn't run from me. You've been in flight since you got here."

"Well, you're very forward. I had to keep my distance," you defend.

"Trinity is a slob, you were too neat, and you did what I told you to do."

You didn't do that much. "Fair," you still nod.

"Trinity is an emotional wreck who can't be serious to save her own life. She runs from difficult conversations, and she'd never EVER spend her own money to buy me sushi and smoothies."

"Easy on my sister," you warn. "That's still my sister."

"Then there's the physical differences. Your nails are different. You smell different. Trinity had a little cut on her finger that you didn't have."

"You notice a whole lot about Trinity. You must really like her."

"I did," he admits. "She’s fukced up, broken, and fukcin everywhere, but she has a way of getting under your skin. Before you know it, you're along for the ride, waking up to hear what ridiculous thing she'll say next."

Trinity is always the comedian, making light of dark situations. She can definitely get under your skin and make you like her even if you hate her. She's that type of person, sour, then sweet. You find yourself smiling at the thought. You can see now how she pulled Erik so easily. He seems the type to need more laughter in his life.

"I never expected the relationship to be permanent," he further admits, "but I think I was still hoping I could change her."

"You can't change her," you blurt, thinking of your own relationship with Trin. You've often hoped the same, but you've come to realize that "All you can do is love her and hope that she'll learn to love herself as much as you do."

Turning fully to Erik, you can see through him. He's full of anger because he's been lied to and betrayed, but there's still some love there. After all, he's been extremely patient with your sister through some difficult things. More patient than anyone other than you has ever been.

"I think it's time for you to know some important things about Trinity... and since she can't find it in herself to tell you, I will."

Louisiana State

You and Trinity come stumbling into the shared dorm from another drunken night out with friends. She's crawling into your bed with you because hers is covered with piles of clothes. In the morning, she refuses to get up, so you have to attend her early class in her place as well as your own in the afternoon. It's the least you can do after she went to class for you the week you were getting over a bad breakup.

You get a call from her in the evening to hang out with some men she met who want sex with twins. "They got money, Ren. We could scam em and graduate with no loan debt," she pleads, but you can't keep up with the fastness of her extra-curricular activities.

"That was a one-time deal. I ain't finna be whoring all over town for some duckets. You on your own."

"Suit yourself."

Taking on the challenge alone, Trinity came back to the room an entire worrying week later with glowing skin, new clothes, and a check to cover her next semester.

"Where have you been," you shake her so hard you rattle her bottom lip.

"In Cali," she shrugs like it's nothing. "Getting money." She flashes her check proudly, a saucy look on her face. "Could've been you too, now I'm not sharing."

Days pass and against your better knowledge, from time to time you find yourself second thinking your decision, weighing your exhaustion against her exuberance to the point that you skip class to go with her the very next time and learn "the game." A code of conduct and a way of sheisty moving.

"Today, you are Trinity Jr," she dubs you, keeping tabs on you even from across the expansive room of the high-level business event. Typically, you'd be bumping elbows for employment, but today, Trinity wants you to flirt with the trust funded nepo babies. Some college girl, coming onto 40-something year old men.

Never present with baggage, you tell yourself looking for the invisible brands--Brunello, Loro, Akris. Always be the prize. Keep a wig and an outfit that shows off one asset, not all of them at once. Always play men against each other. Always smile. Don't respond until they buy you something. Trinity was all about finessing, and she taught you how to play on a man's insecurities to make him desire you.

"And don't have sex for less than a car or a roof," she said, and she was right. You had the time of your life that day for free. But it was time to return to school. You had papers to write, and so did she, but she simply didn't, and her drinking became a problem... She continued to disappear, coming back drunk, refusing to answer questions. Being rude to your mutual friends... and due to her failure to complete assignments, she was dropped from the academic program. The family was extremely disappointed and made it known, but Trinity sidestepped their wrath by moving in with a guy she said she'd met in Houston. They'd been dating, and she didn't tell you. He wasn't much older than the two of you, and he was already fairly successful with a good salary and his own house. His name was Tyrell, but Trin called him Ty.

The most you'd ever seen was pictures. He was a fine, tall, cocoa man, something like a Kofi Siriboe meets Idris Elba. Unfortunately, along with blocking out your parents, Trin had also blocked you out. You hadn't seen her since she was dropped from the program and not for lack of trying. You'd called and left messages. She didn't wanna talk.

Time passes. You're still friends with the people you met at Louisiana State. You're excited to graduate with one semester left. You're checking out job opportunities and paid internships. You still haven't met Ty. He doesn't know you exist. He hasn't met the family, and it's been a while since you've seen your one and only sister. You're not used to being away from her for this long. You miss being mischievous and switching places. No matter how your life goes up, concern for your sister pulls you back down.

"Hey Ren, I'm kinda busy right now, unfortunately. Can I call you back," Trinity groans when you call her up out of the blue. She doesn't even hang up all the way before lighting into Ty. You recognize his voice in the background, and they both sound angry. You decide to be nosey, and immediately, you're worried about how they speak to each other.

They're calling each other everything but a child of God. He's complaining about her spending, and she's calling him a broke bastard. She ends the call suddenly, realizing she hadn't before, you guess. When you call her back an hour later, she's somber. You can tell she's started her drinking.

"It's cool, don't even trip. That's what my side nigga for anyway," she fusses, seemingly alone. "I'm a stay with him a few days."

"You sure? Crash with me," you tell her. It's just the same dorm room, and you'd have to sneak her, but it's something.

"Mm, nah, I'm a stay with Jermaine. He got a room for me with all of what I like."

"Okay... Well, you know the deal. I'm here."

"I know, Ren. I'm okay, really."

You let it go, but check in routinely, seeing Trinity update her social media with consistent wardrobe expansions, always looking like a celebrity or video vixen. Every time you check in, she tells you things are good... Until you hear Ty in the background again, calling her out of her name. This time, she does hang up, and you're concerned.

As the older twin (by a minute), you think a lot about Trinity. Her well-being... her relationships. One thing that remains consistent is her ability to choose the prettiest man with the ugliest streak. You've seen it having gone out with her countless times, and though you never met Ty, you've seen Ty. Physically he's your type, but you can tell he ain't right, and from the bits and pieces of eavesdropping on the phone, you're piecing together that there's a real probability he's been kicking her ass left and right. You've been tracking his pages, too, and developing a timeline of events from things you hear and see. You've been googling him and looking at his LinkedIn, anything you could find. Ever since he lost his salaried position and had to take a lower pay, it seems like he's been talking it out on your sister.

"You need to come back home and leave them men alone," you say bluntly the next time Trinity returns your call. "Aht. You can't deny what I know I heard, so stop lying. Come on. You know I'll go to bat! Tag me in! I'll swing by quick, no questions, and pack your things."

"I'm not coming back there. Just help me move my things to my side's place."

"Text me the address."

"Can you come when he's out?"

"Of course."

You get on the road, but you're getting tired of your twin weathering violent men just to secure a bag. They're sweet for a while, but they change and start testing the waters. You blame the alcohol for Trin's increasingly bad judgement. Trinity lives a fast life and refuses to work a normal job. She'd rather die.

From New Orleans to St. Francisville, you travel nearly two hours one way to meet Trinity at Ty's house, the goal being to help her organize and move her belongings out quickly. It's no surprise to see collections of empty liquor bottles scattered amongst food containers and clothes. Through talking to Trin, you learn that both she and Ty are heavy drinkers to the point of becoming verbally and physically violent. Ty just happens to do coke in addition. You keep your judgment to yourself for the time being in order to snatch up all Trinity's belongings as quickly as you can.

"Where you at, woman?" A voice from the front door barks out. You almost freeze, but keep working as Trinity yells back.

"I thought you were hanging with your boy. What do you want?"

"Who's car is that outside? You moving with niggas behind my back?"

Trinity looks at you and rolls her eyes. "Who got energy to cheat. You drain me enough! What you bring me to eat?"

"Ain't nobody bring yo fat ass shit. Who you got in my house?" You can hear him searching downstairs. You quietly speed up your messy packing of all the designer clothes, shoes, and wigs, uncaring of what gets wrinkled or tangled.

"You got two hands and a car! You ain't doing nothing!"

"What you say to me?!"

"If you'd stop scratching your dirty ass sack long enough for your brain to work, you'd hear better."

Trin, you sigh. She's egging him on. More yelling about how she won't stop spending and she won't leave the clubs. He's sounding more and more insecure, and Trinity's mouth isn't helping.

"You don't make enough for me to deal with short-tempered and forgetful. That's exactly why I'm leaving yo ass!" There's a rumble and some banging. You hear running on the steps and falling as though they're really fighting, then Trinity screams.

Leaving the fully packed suitcase and bags you run, catching the abuse with your own eyes for the first time.

"Get my stuff, Ren," Trinity yells, as if that's what's most important right now. She's bleeding from her lip. Ty has a bloody nose himself. His confusion in seeing you at the stop of the stairs gives Trin an opening, and she tases him. "Yeah, you shocked? Ren, get my stuff!"

You drag the bags to the top of the stairs, but it comes at a cost. There's another scuffle, and Ty's got Trin down, her long curly hair wrapped around his swollen fist.

"GET OFF OF HER," you shout, running down. You pull at Ty, getting flung back against the steps with his King Kong strength as he resumes punching Trinity like she's a man. Running back up past the bags, you find a full can of Lysol and launch an attack, smashing it over Ty's head hard enough to knock him back. He comes at you in his rage. That's when you draw your daddy's handgun on him.

"Ty, don't make me do it." The gun shakes in your hand. You've never shot it before. You keep your eye on him as you take the phone from your pocket and hit the emergency button. "Don't call the police," Trinity pleads weakly, still wanting to handle things on her own, but she can barely lift her head. "Enough is enough. I'm stopping this now and taking you back home to mom and dad."

"911, what is your emergency?"

"She was pissed at first, but she understood," you tell Erik, who's been listening the entire time. "She kicked the alcohol. She's been sober for the most part ever since. However, she's always had this same habit of finding men. She told me she just wants someone to really love her for her. Not for her body, not for being a twin. She wants an honest to God connection and mutual respect, but she's never found it. We even talked about you... She loves you, but she's scared to. She's scared of the peace. All she knows is chaos."

"Tell me about it," Erik mutters. "Sometimes I think she's finally opening up, then she shuts right back down."

"Give her time. Out of all the men she could've dealt with, I'm glad she picked you. That's growth in itself."

"Maybe... What about this Gio? You think she tied to him?"

"How you know about Gio?!" There's no logical way for him to have figured that much out unless he's a psychic. He takes out his phone and hands it to you on an open gallery to flip through. There's pictures of you as Trinity, pictures of random things like a receipt, and then there's handwritten notes. Your handwriting. Your draw drops as you recognize pages from your journal. He knows way more than you initially thought. He knows too much, even about you.

"How long have-"

"Since the beginning almost? Second day? At first, I wanted to let you suffer. I fully intended to use you to hurt her, but that didn't end up working out."

"You tried to use me to hurt Trinity?" You're disappointed, but not exactly surprised.

"I would've succeeded if you didn't keep turning me down. Every time you said no, it made me wanna try harder, but there's only so far a nigga can go before it's past petty and into fukc nigga territory. I'm too old for that shit."

"We all are..."

"You judging me now," he smirks, catching your subtle side-eye, "I'm being honest. Since this is honesty hour, you should know I would've fukced you, but it would've only been to get back at Trinity. Even now, I see you in front of me, and the two of you are so different that my attraction to you is different. I'm not drawn to you in the same way."

"Okay?" You side-eye him, openly offended. "I really didn't ask."

"But you're attracted to me. I wanted to make that clear to be fair to you."

"Mm," you hum, feeling suddenly awkward. "Okay. Well."

"Okay," he stares forward, no malice or intention in his eyes. You get up and wonder if you should go home... "Goodnight," he whispers, answering that for you.

"Goodnight."

Slowly, you make your way back upstairs and return to sleep, knowing you no longer have to fight him. The week is over. Trinity returns tomorrow. You'll go home, and in a couple of days, you'll go back to work.

When you wake up, you check Erik's room in curiosity. He's still in bed, sleeping in. You leave him alone, and you take the few things you brought over along with the Benz back to your place to sleep off and on until it's time to get Trinity from the airport at 5.

TRINITY.

On the long and cramped flight from Cabo, Trinity was left alone to spiral into madness as she breathed the recycled air of those pressed around her. A baby was crying and the in-flight entertainment system was malfunctioning. She wanted to do terrible things, but she managed to control herself and sit in silence.

Once at the site of her connection, she was able to see Serenity's messages. She was still popular with their old college friends. Mom and Dad had called her. And she'd texted and called herself to reach Trinity. Trinity didn't have all of that. The attention she received was from men she didn't care about in the form of dick pics and sexual advances. It wasn't fair, but at the same time, Trinity knew it was her own fault. She was volatile, insecure, and terrible at relationship maintenance. At least she was aware.

Listening to the voice message from Ren, her heart sunk immediately upon hearing that they needed to talk. The worst had occurred in Trinity's mind. She didn't want to think about Ren and Erik bumping uglies. It was driving her insane. She dissociated on the flight back home where she saw Ren for the first time in a week.

Trinity was still excited to see her sister. She hugged her before taking the wheel, but the intrusive thoughts were still there.

"What did you wanna tell me about on the voicemail," she asked, switching the phones back.

"Huh? Oh! Bitch. You wouldn't believe what I did."

"What you do?"

"I had sex with-" Please don't say it, Trinity pleaded. "-the guy from the gym."

"Jarrell?!"

"His name is Kelce. I just walked up to him and took control, ended up at his place. We went from room to room."

"Forreal?" Trinity perked up, relieved.

"Yeah... Too bad he's married with a kid."

"Yikes," Trinity grimaced, flicking off someone in her rearview. "Was the dick nice?"

"Only you," Serenity laughed.

"What? Inquiring minds." Trinity wanted details.

"Hell yea, it was good, but I can't keep doing that."

"I would," Trinity stated boldly. If she wanted it, she took it. They both already knew that. They talked about Kelce and Cabo all the way to Serenity's apartment, where they sat in the car a little longer to chat. "So... You were able to meet Erik. What do you think of him?"

"I'm glad you bring that up. He's an amazing guy, Trin. You did your big one finding him. He's smart, cute, funny, sexy, all of the boxes. He also knows... about us," Ren said cautiously.

Kill Bill sirens sounded in Trinity's head. "He what?" Maybe she didn't hear correctly.

"He knows about us... He knows everything."

"Everything..." Trinity stared at her sister, trying to remember she was her sister. "Everything?"

"Everything," Ren solidified. Trinity was gutted. She couldn't even tell him the surface shit and in one week, one menial week, Ren had told him EVERYTHING.

"What did you tell him?"

"Um," Ren hesitated, going silent.

"Ren? How much did you TELL him?" Trinity gritted her teeth in fury. Now Ren was careful to speak? "Did you tell him about Gio?"

"Not on purpose."

"Get the fukc... You told him?!"

"It's not that simple. He read my journal, it was in there."

"You just happened to leave it out..." Serenity had to be playing in her face, Trinity thought. "You really went and told this man my business the first chance you got. Did you feel bad for him? Poor Erik getting run over by my evil sister," Trinity mocked.

"He figured it out, Trinity. Even before he read my journal, he knew I wasn't you. He could tell. Remember you said you wanted a man to love you for you? This is it. Here is a man who distinguishes you by his love for you."

"I already know that," Trinity admitted to herself and aloud for the first time. "But why would you tell him those things about ME? Did you tell him about Ty?"

Her silence was an affirmation. Trinity wanted to cry.

"Get out my car."

"Trinity, you're not letting me explain the situation. We had to tell him."

"GET OUT OF MY CAR!" She couldn't hold it in or stay calm any longer. She was pissed, irritated, betrayed, embarrassed, all of it. She'd have never told him that. She didn't want him to know that side of her. She didn't wanna be broken. She felt it already, all the fukcing time. She slammed her palm on the wheel. "GET THE FUKC OUTTA MY CAR!!!"

"But that's not even the point. I'm trying to tell you he figured us out himself."

"NO ONE EVER FIGURES IT OUT!" Trinity was in tears. She didn't feel them coming, but they were there. Serenity's big mouth.

"He did..."

Why would Serenity do this? She knew how she'd feel and did it anyway. It dawned on Trinity just then that she never had a chance. Serenity and Erik were a better match, and Serenity must've known that and made her move with the journal. She was a bitch!

"The one good man I pull! Of course you would jump on it," she smiled bitterly through the tears. "Perfect Serenity! Ready to profit off my work and my mistakes to make a come up! I knew it. I knew this would happen. Typical."

"Excuse you?" She blinked.

"Every time I shit, here you come, ready to suck up all the shit I dropped! Well, congratulations," she clapped, "You win! You're the favorite and eeevery one loves you."

"What the maple toasted fukc are you talking about?"

"Spare me. Ever since we were little, you were the favorite, and I was the fukc up! You thrive on it! It's our entire dynamic!"

"Oh, baby, you swallowed too much ocean water with your semen."

"Right. Well, I knew you were a hard up and desperate bitch trailing behind me to pick up anything I dropped. That's what you do. You wait for me to drop the ball, then you come by and -woosh- layup. You saw your chance with Erik, and you took it. So, like I said, typical!"

SERENITY.

"Oh, be so for real with yourself!" Never before has Trin spit this utter bullshit that's been building on her conscience, and you're stunned to hear it. You've been trying to understand, refusing to believe she's serious, but she is dead serious. "You ruin every relationship you have. Don't turn around and blame it on me," you glare. "Yuka and Liv? You stopped talking to them, not vice versa. Mom and Dad, you ruined that. You! With your dumbass choices. If you're a fukcup, that's no one's fault but yours."

"Go to hell."

"And as for Erik? You fukced that up by leaving. That was you who called me to keep your nigga on ice and that's what the fukc I did. That's ALL I did." You stop yourself, hearing how you sound. You don't think badly of her. You don't think she's a fukc-up, but you're not gonna let her lie and beat on you either. You're not one of her whipped clients. You're really the one if she pushes you. "Where is this coming from all of a sudden!? We've switched places on your men many times, and you've never acted this way. You don't trust my judgment all of a sudden with how far to take shit? Well, why the fukc you come to me then?! Huh?" You smack the dashboard.

"Not to betray me and wreck my relationship. That's for sure, bitch."

"Oh my GOD," you shout reaching your own limit. Your intention was to vet him, not to take him. You were extremely careful! "You're bugging! Talk about over dick? You're flipping on me for a man. A man!... Really? After all I've done for you?"

"What have you done for me?! Everything you do is always so you can prove how amazing you are and how shit I am, and now I finally had something worth taking... Just get out," she waves.

"For a man, Trin? Over a man?"

"You know damn well it's more than a man. I'm not going through this with you again, acting like you're dense and don't get shit."

"Trin," you sigh, genuinely hurt, offended, and now mad as all hell. "You're such a brat. If you weren't a total bitch running off on him in the first place, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"I'm the mean scary bitch and you the hero, right? Did you cum from it? Did you win a million dollars? What about that cookie you ordered. Did you get it?"

"Bitch!... I could've had your man seven ways to Sunday! Literally! I purposely didn't do that shit for you." You get out and slam the door.

"Tuh. Well, how about this. Y'all can be together and leave me the hell out of it. I really don't care anymore."

You know that's a lie.

"Oh fukc all the way off, Trinity. I hate when you lie. You care, or else you wouldn't be tripping and going off like this."

"No, I actually don't care. I can always find a man who's richer, better looking, and overall better, but you can't... As a matter of fact, I already have one on the sidelines." She flashes a brand new diamond bracelet. It must be from Gio, you assume. "And no, not Gio. I met another man in Cabo. So enjoy my sloppy seconds."

You stare at her at a loss for words. It's wild that you were loyal for a week of temptation knowing Trinity would've NEVER had the same resolve herself, and the second she's back, she turns on YOU AND ERIK and dips.

"Fine," you stand in the distance, watching her zoom off.

What the hell just happened?

You go up to your apartment, still shaken by the exchange and furious. How dare she even accuse you something like that, let alone believe it? Does she know how much temptation you ducked all week in the name of loyalty? Does she care?

You give it the weekend and return to work on Monday feeling irritated and mentally exhausted as ever. As Wednesday hits, you're also pissed because Trinity hasn't come through with your money. Being mad at you was one thing. Messing with your money was another, and you weren't one to be as patient or nice about that. You've been calling her about it since Monday. Friday, you're done.

"She want a villain, I'll give her a villain," you mutter on the way to Erik's after work. You knock knowing you've come at a time when Erik's home too. He looks surprised to see you, then realization relaxes him.

"Serenity."

Who else would it be? "I need to speak to Trinity. I don't care if she don't wanna talk. She owes me money."

"Trinity ain't been here. Not since she went to Cabo."

"What?" You look around, but there's no Benz. "Did she call you?"

"Nope."

Growling with anger, you explode into stomps and kicks. This didn't make sense and was truly irking you to the deepest of your core.

"Tell me about it," he remarks, the look on his face saying he feels a similar way.

"She's so damn frustrating!"

"Come in," he steps back, waving you into the house.

[scififettuccine]

A Wild Fix: Part 1.5?

Pairing: Platonic!Butcher x Supe!Reader

Summary: 3 weeks into your alliance with The Boys, you and Butcher go through the Vought Database. Butcher being curious about a Supe he's never heard of leads him to put together a plan that's less than safe. But does he listen to your warnings? Of course not.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Exposition, mentions of casinos, mention of suicide

Notes: Hey ya'll! Long time no see! You're probably wondering what the fuck this is. As you may have noticed I haven't posted anything in a few days. This is because when I got into writing Part 2, it became A LOT more complex and involved than I intended, including new characters and a sharp left turn in the story line that I didn't plan. Considering the results from the pole, I figured no one would really be mad if I did this. Part 1.5 is A LOT of exposition, setting up the actual second installment of the series. I could have made Part 2 longer, but it was way past how many words I wanted to have in each installment. I didn't want to call this an actual part two, because this alone isn't long enough to qualify as its own part, so...✨1.5✨ As you can most likely tell, I'm not following the canon plot exactly, I find that to be EXTREMELY boring. I know it's something that some people don't love, but at the end of the day it's creative writing and I enjoy doing it. Here is a link to Part 1 if you missed it! The official part 2 of A Wild Fix will be out very soon, but for now, enjoy this expositional interlude from our good lad, William Butcher.

It was safe to say that, since your first meeting? You and Frenchie didn’t get along very well. You had been running with The Boys for almost a month now, yet the two of you couldn’t agree on a single thing. But honestly? That didn't really matter to you. He didn't seem like the kind of person you wanted to be close with, anyway.

You had adjusted pretty well to this double standard of life, working for Vought, and working with The Boys. You were very careful, and there hadn’t been any close calls…yet. As for adjusting to the basement hideout? That didn't necessarily get any easier. You had carved out a little spot for yourself in one of the less occupied corners, just big enough to set your computer down, and maybe put a cup of coffee off to the side. And at the moment, that's where you sat. Working out time to help out wasn’t very hard. You were a member of The Seven, yes, but due to your powers, you were more of an alternate. You still went to meetings, and you still lived in the tower, you just weren't sent out as much. Butcher had requested that you dig into a few things for him in the Vought database. The Vought database had become available to you since you signed the contract with the company. It didn’t contain anything majorly world shattering, just some more detailed info on every Supe that had ever been involved with the company, including deceased, and currently active Supes. The info pages almost reminded you of trading cards, you laughed to yourself at the thought. It almost made you wonder why Vought hadn’t cashed in on some sort of trading card game.

“Something funny, love?” Butcher asked. You could see him approaching from behind in the reflection of your laptop screen.

“Yeah, actually…” You said, beckoning him over. Butcher crouched down next to your chair, looking at the computer screen. “Don’t those stats kinda look like trading cards? I mean, even the way it’s set up. Surprised Vought hasn’t cashed in on that yet.” Butcher raised a brow and leaned a bit closer to the screen, letting out a small ‘hmph’ sound. 

“You’re not wrong.” He examined the screen for a moment. “So you can see every Supe that's ever been involved with the company?” You nodded.

“For the most part, yes. But usually if there's anything they need to hide, the Supe goes to whoever runs the database and asks for that piece of information to be taken off of it. It’s actually in the contract somewhere, in the fine print, if I remember.” Butcher gave a small hum of acknowledgement.

“So if I had to guess, Homelander doesn't even have a file?” He asked. You narrowed your eyes towards the screen as you clicked out of the file you were on, and searched Homelander’s name in the top bar. When the file came up, you clicked it. Low and behold…? Not much. Just his in-company stats, The Seven logo, showing his affiliation with the group, and the year he had been signed onto the company. 

“Yeah…nothing much. Most of The Seven are like this, actually. If I remember correctly…” You clicked out of Homelander’s file, and clicked on the search bar again. You went to type in ‘Maeve,’ but Butcher stopped you, placing his finger over one of the file cards on the screen.

“Who’s that bloke?” He asked. You raised a brow and moved his finger out of the way. He had been pointing to a file card for the Supe named Mixer, who belonged to a new Vought owned Supe team that had been gaining steam recently…Residency. Vought had always sort of branded it as the new age Payback, but it was more of a marketing thing. The Supes on the team were legit, powerful, and some of them popular…But it definitely wasn't anything close to Payback. Mixer, admittedly, was one of the more known Supe’s on the team. He had been a musician first, gaining popularity from his young start in the industry. And as soon as Vought could get its bloodstained hands on the poor guy? He was signed on. Now? He had a residency at Planet Vought Casino & Resort in Las Vegas, and a spot in Residency.

“That's Mixer. He’s around my age, I think…Super popular in the music industry.” You explained, clicking on his file card.

“You know’im?” He asked. You shook your head as you scrolled through his file. 

“I met him at a convention a few years back, around this time of year actually…He seemed kinda full of himself. He has a residency now, though, kinda ironic, at Vought’s casino in Las Vegas.” You explained. Butcher nodded, clearly thinking.

“How is it ironic?” He asked.

“Mixer is part of a Supe team too, but the team is called Residency. So I thought it was kinda funny that he had an actual residency-” Butcher cut you off.

“Another Supe team? Owned by Vought?” You nodded.

“Yeah. It's him, Klepto, Bloodshot, Laugh Track, Void-” Butcher cut you off again, before you could even finish naming the members.

“The convention you met him at…Was it a Supe convention?” 

“Yeah. But not like the crazy fan ones. It's by invite only. All of Voughts Supes go, it’s a huge event. They invite new, upcoming Supes, and Vought investors. It’s a 3 day affair. They usually hold it at the Casino location that's here in the city, though, not the one in Vegas.” You turned your head to look at him, narrowing your eyes. What was he thinking?

“You said it was around this time of year?” He asked, turning the laptop towards himself so he could scroll.

“Yeah, usually towards the middle of fall…Why do you ask?” You raised a brow.

“I’m assuming you're invited?” He asked, the smirk on his face growing.

“Yeah, like I said, most contracted Supes are there. Annie is going too, we kinda have to…You’re not thinking what I think you are…right?” You asked, narrowing your eyes once again.

“That's exactly what I’m thinking, love.” He chuckled and stood up. “A whole casino full of Supes and Vought officials? That's practically an information gold mine. And with your connections? We’re bound to uncover something. Do you get a plus one or anythin like’at?”

“I’m pretty sure contracted Supes get two guest passes, but this is out of the question, Butcher. Digging at a Vought run Supe convention? It’s suicide for anyone involved.” You said, closing your computer. This wasn't a good idea, not even in the slightest.

“So if both you and Hughie’s girl go, that's four guest passes between the two of you?” He asked.

“Yes but-” Butcher cut you off before you could protest.

“Just enough passes for Hughie, MM, Frenchie, and meself. It’s settled, then, love.” Butcher gave a smug smile and patted your shoulder. You cringed internally. Butcher wouldn’t take no for an answer…and you didn’t favor the idea of being on his bad side.

 If you were caught, no, if any of you were caught snooping around at this convention? You’d be dead before you could leave the building…or worse.

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

And that's the end of my exposition bomb. Again, Part 2 is coming very soon, and I'm sorry that I had to break it up like this. This series became more involved than intended, as you can probably see. More information regarding Residency and its significance is to come👀 Stay tuned to get back to your regularly scheduled Frenchie x Reader content <3 Adieu!

teeny tiny taglist: @llynx7 @stinkysam

[albino-notes]

Do you have any socials cause I would really like to be friends 😭😭

anon!!!! i would love to be friends with you, and i was going to send you my twitter username, but unfortunately joostwt has discovered my tantu fic and is NOT happy about it 🙃 hey, i should be grateful for the free shout-out, right? even though they could've left a like, considering they already went out of their way to screenshot it and post it on their twitter account...

so, i've made the decision to stay anonymous on here! but, if you have a tumblr account, please feel free to message me whenever! <3

and because this has honestly officially ruined my already terrible day, i feel the need to go on a little rant (read under the cut):

i will never understand why people shit so much on fanfic writers. it is a legitimate form of creative writing, and most writers on here are already employing all measures to make sure people who are uncomfortable with this kind of content don't have to come in contact with it. also, do you guys seriously think joost or any of the people in his inner circle have secret tumblr blogs and use them to lurk these tags??? don't you think these people have better things to do with their time? tumblr, for as long as i can remember (and i've literally been on here with my main blog since 2013) has been a niche social media. it's not comparable with instagram, tiktok and twitter. artists don't use tumblr to advertise their stuff. artists may come on here to search for artwork, but honestly... artwork is shared (at least imo) on these other social medias way more, and i doubt artists would go out of their way to create a tumblr blog just to look at art work when it's also available elsewhere. EDIT: joost was apparently on here. still, i sincerely doubt he would willingly read fanfics about himself. like bffr...

coming back to the point of fanfics as a form of creative writing: these fanfics are all just figments of my silly little imagination!!! i am not fantasizing about anything that i'm writing. i could've written any of these fics with other musicians or all OC's altogether! my fanfics (and most of the fics i've read on here) use such little personal descriptors apart from names, songs and places. all stuff that is publicly available, too. i am not rubbing these fics in their faces. if anything, the people screenshotting these fics and taking them outside of tumblr are INCREASING the chance that joost and his crew will see these fics.

to the people saying that fanfiction writers should touch grass: am i the one with an entire public twitter account dedicated to joost entirely, bombarding his socials with weird and borderline creepy comments and flooding his dms hoping that he will notice you? no, i am a grown ass adult en-route to a college degree, and they will probably even graduate on top of their class. i have money, i have friends, i have lots of passions and hobbies! i am actually living a very fulfilling life! writing fanfics is not an indicator for an unfulfilling life! i've actually been writing for a plethora of fandoms since i was a pre-teen, and i've always done it to deal with whatever hyperfixation i had at that moment. as a person with BPD, this can be really therapeutic in dealing with intense emotions. but i'm not only writing fanfics. i want to write my own novel one day.

to be completely honest with you, i wouldn't even actually consider myself a joost fan. i obviously like his music and can connect with his stage persona, but i don't own any merch, i have no intentions of going to a joost concert and i probably wouldn't even try to interact with any of these ppl on the off chance that i'll ever run into him or his crew in real life. this tumblr blog is just the manifestation of a hyperfixation that will most likely die down in a few months. i'm not even following or interacting with them on social media. they will never know who i am and neither will i ever know more about them than what's publicly available. someone under that tweet said that it was disrespectful to write something like that when tantu has a girlfriend - a fact i didn't know, by the way. because despite me consuming and producing fanfictions about him, i am not spending all my time stalking him.

rest assured that if tantu, joost or any of the people mentioned in my fics ever said that they feel comfortable with the way i'm using their public image (because it's just that!!!! you don't know any of these people really!!!! i urge you to look up what a parasocial relationship is!!!!), i will delete this entire blog in a matter of seconds and i will leave no trace. you, however, the people screenshotting fics to talk shit about them, just made sure that the same fics you absolutely despise will never truly leave the internet.

if you've made it this far, i wanna take the time to thank everyone for giving me this beautiful outlet to let out my emotions and creativity! i truly appreciate everyone who takes the time to read, comment and like my fanfics! to the people who have a problem with fanfics, i urge you to reflect on your on behavior and online presence. i promise you, fanfic writers are not the problem. either way, going forward, i will refrain on using the joost klein tag altogether, using only fanfic-specific tags to decrease the chance of getting noticed by people who don't want anything to do with this corner of the internet.

y'all, i'm fucking tired. this has put quite a damper on my motivation to write, but i think i will be fine! please understand that it may take longer for me to finish the planned fics now. if it's any consolation, i've already started with one of the fics and will finish that one as soon as i'm done with finals!

thank you for everything. until then, take care <3

[koolades-world]

Hi hi! Just wanted to start off by saying I love your work ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

Anyways I was wondering if you could do some comfort hcs for an mc that has IBD? You’re fine if you don’t want to write for this since it’s pretty uncommon from my understanding.

Note: I felt it important to say since there’s lots of misconceptions floating around (cough cough TikTok-)that IBD has lots to do with diet. Either it playing a role in the cause or for treating it. Which all the specialists I’ve seen have said diet is neither the leading cause nor is it the solution. All it is that some foods irritate for no particular reason and should generally be avoided.

Sorry if I overshared lol I’ve just had people tell on multiple occasions that it’s a diet thing when it’s not- it’s an autoimmune disease.

Thanks so much for reading my little impromptu rant. Again you don’t have to write for it if don’t wish to due to it being a very niche topic. Anyways hope you’re well stay safe.

-🪴🧺

hi!!! of course I can! no worries about oversharing or anything, i actually didn't know that was a misconception and help me out :)

i'm almost certain i have ibs (long story short i couldn't get diagnosed but it runs a very clear path in my family and all of my symptoms match up exactly the same it's like it was copy and pasted) and of course so i could properly write this i did a little research, and based on what you said and what i read, it sounds like people are getting the two mixed up which is something that could be fixed by a simple google search :( i'm so sorry you have to deal with people like that

i hope i did you justice and this could be a little respite in your day. enjoy <3

Mc with IBD

Lucifer

he tries his best to make your days better in little ways!

gift baskets will randomly appear in your room filled with things you'd only mentioned in passing that you wanted or needed to him

if you're feeling up for it, he'll take you out for a meal at least once a week to make you feel special. it might not be fancy every time, but you can still feel the love

if you're not though, no worries! he'll do something equally as nice at home for you with food he made himself

Mammon

if you need surgery, he's becoming your personal nurse while you heal!

every moment he can be, he's by your side

lots of cute little forehead kisses and magically producing your favorite candies from behind his back for you

you won't even have to lift a finger to change what you're watching on tv, let mammon take care of it <3

Levi

he's the king of staying in, so if you don't feel like going out, his room is always open to you!

you don't even need a password to get in, because it's you

if you're ever feeling down or unwell because of your ibd, he always lets you have full control over what you do

if you play a game like minecraft together, he'll always have surprises ready for you so next time you play, you'll find it <3

Satan

he's curious about your medication and does extensive research into it

he always makes sure any painkillers or other meds you might take won't interfere with your ibd meds!

he will recommend the over the counter painkillers if you want them that have the least amount of bad side effects, such as tylenol because he hates to see you in pain

he's got lots of connections and will use them in any way possible if it could possible help you

Asmo

he's the best at making sure you take good care of yourself!

if you're bad about taking your meds, he'll get you a cute little pill divider

will also get a matching equally cute water bottle that you can use to help take the pills

he ensure everything can be done while being fashionable, because he finds that it makes things more bearable for him, so why not his favorite person too?

Beel

he knows quite a lot about supplements and vitamins, so if you take them, he's asking you questions about them because he just wants to get to know you better

he is always there for you if you need someone to talk to, or just want to rant/vent

provides the best comfort and warm hugs :)

Belphie

like his twin, he also gives great hugs

he's your number one fan of course! he's always with you even if you're not in your bed

it may take all of his energy, but if you want to go out, he's going with you no matter what

he'll even share his signature cow pillow with you 🥺

[kyouka-supremacy]

I think we should just bring back Wungo Wednesday and start a fandom collective anime rewatch

[icewindandboringhorror]

I know multiple of these are likely important to people, but I'm asking in terms of like - which of these do you tend to focus on the MOST, enjoy the most, that is most essential for you to actually care about the media, etc.?

(For example: someone finding "Relatability" most important would likely not enjoy a show much if they have trouble empathizing with the characters/relating to it, even if it were good otherwise. Or, someone might be able to overlook bad acting and ugly costumes, as long as the Character Dynamics are fun to them, because they value that more than Aesthetics- while for others, bad costumes would be a dealbreaker.)

Also feel free to reblog and explain your answer or more information in the tags- I've always been curious about people's relationships to media, how they conceptualize it/what they get out of it, how some people value some parts more than others, how that informs their overall taste and genres they may be more inclined towards, etc. :0c

[knbposting]

i need to see a wakamatsu vs kagami showdown but also if wakamatsu is there, aomine is DEFINITELY there, and aomine would have to be seriously ill before he lets WAKAMATSU??? take the attention off of HIM???

[maulfucker]

vaguely kinda want to write Latros fucking Maul.... it would not be good. they would not be good for each other. but the thought of it is entertaining itself in my head........

[aberooski]

I love my gx winx au and I love that it's just bits and pieces of me being like oh that's fun and not having any semblance of lore or plot. It's purely contained to the character designs I've drawn for the girls.

[ereborne]

WIP ask game: "backflip, faceplant", please! (also what's your ao3 handle? if you got one/don't mind/other)

Backflip, faceplant!  Of all of these working titles, this is the one I think might work best as an actual title.  It’s fun to say—imagine me tilting my head one way and then the other as I say it—and more importantly it doesn’t require a full six-degrees-of-kevin-bacon word association game to make sense to a viewer outside my head:  it’s what happens in the first scene of the fic.   

Essentially, this is my Dick Grayson character exploration, turned sort of emotional fix-it.  Dick gets kicked around so consistently in canon that he often doesn’t actually have the opportunity to live up to the Eldest Daughter characterization fandom loves to give him, and I am in the fashion of comics fans everywhere creating my own timeline mishmash to allow for a different outcome. 

What if before Jason died, Dick had managed to carve out a little space separate from his anger with Bruce, for the foundations of the brotherly relationship we all want them to have?  What if the first time he laid eyes on Tim, Dick turned a piece of his grief for Jason into determination to grow an even better brotherly relationship with him?  And what if Dick’s choice to grow those relationships had knock-on effects all the way down the line? 

Featuring such highlights as:  Tim and Babs conspiring to make sure Dick is never without backup in Bludhaven, professionally emotionally and otherwise; brain-scrambled Jason still pretty much autopilot adopting Damian in Nanda Parbat because when a kid falls over in front of you, you pick them the fuck up; ongoing ‘who can spill punch on the worst gala guest’ competitions between the Foxes and Waynes (surprise winner Kate Kane); the Titans and the Teen Titans and Timmy’s Weirdass Friends Too all working together better and more often; me rejecting p much everything New 52 except Strix, Strix can stay; a gargoyle with Dick Grayson’s perfect butt being commissioned for the Gotham Belltower as a loving and heartfelt tribute to everybody’s best big brother. 

I’m just writing whatever nonsense makes me happy with no regard to pacing, so it's gotten pretty sprawling—past sprawling, really, probably if I were going to post it up, I'd have the main story as one work and then a second work with multiple chapters of excerpted scenes—but it’s emotionally rewarding and an excellent thought exercise for me trying to decide what parts of DC’s bonkers-ass timeline(s) I think are important. 

Crime Alley natives only respond well to respect, and they never feel comfortable unless they’ve got the advantage.  Dick settles at the edge of the mat, dropping into an easy flat-footed squat, eye-level with the kid.  The kid immediately stands up from his crouch, and Dick doesn’t smirk, just tilts his head up to keep meeting his eyes.  “That was a good tumble.”  The kid’s looking for a lie, but he won’t find one.  He’d landed on his face in the end, sure, but he’d fallen well.  “You’ve got good balance, got reach—great instincts, which is more important.  Once you get the footwork down, you’ll be set.”  Dick, looking up into those suspicious eyes, realizes as he says it exactly how true it is.  It’ll be tricky, walking the line between Crime Alley and Bruce’s particular brand of do-goodery, but once the kid gets his feet underneath him, he’ll be amazing.  Well.  Nothing else for it, really.  There’s nobody better at finding a tricky balance point than Dick.  “Here, let me show you.”

[ehlnofay]

wip wsunday (night)

tagged by @wispstalk (thank you kindly!) tagging back @ervona and @everybodyknows-everybodydies if you so please.

I put my long-ish tes piece on the backburner to take a break and write shorter things featuring my best friends elder scrolls characters from my mind and then I put THAT on the backburner because my very sweet grandmother paid for me to buy bg3 and. alas. look I can't play a game of this nature without fleshing out my player character far more than necessary and then I get curious. so here's a very shoddily scribbled bit from my very first playing-around piece (a rambling description of my character's extremely abandoned house)

[helpimstuckinafandom]

I actually feel like i'm losing it I only started playing bg3 on friday/saturday and I am in withdrawl from just one day without it

[keeps-ache]

oh brother. kinda sucks to have multiple creative interests and you can only do One but it's not the one you want to do at the moment </3