#i just put lines on the page wherever i wanted them to go. this is finger painting to me

[villainvirus]

the chomperrrrrr

[bogleech]

Going to put all this in its own post too by popular request: here's how you make your own website with no understanding of HTML code at all, no software, no backend, absolutely nothing but a text file and image files! First get website server space of your own, like at NEOCITIES. The free version has enough room to host a whole fan page, your art, a simple comic series, whatever! The link I've provided goes to a silly comic that will tell you how to save the page as an html file and make it into a page for your own site. The bare minimum of all you need to do with it is JUST THIS:

Change the titles, text, and image url's to whatever you want them to be, upload your image files and the html file together to your free website (or the same subfolder in that website), and now you have a webpage with those pictures on it. That's it!!!!! .....But if you want to change some more super basic things about it, here's additional tips from the same terrible little guy:

That last code by itself is: <meta HTTP-EQUIV="REFRESH" content="0; url=001.html"> Change "001.html" to wherever you want that link to take people. THIS IS THE REASON WHY when you go to bogleech.com/pokemon/ you are taken instantly to the newest Pokemon review, because the /pokemon/ directory of my website has an "index.html" page with this single line of code. Every pokemon review has its own permanent link, but I change that single line in the index file so it points to the newest page whenever I need it to! While I catered these instructions to updating a webcomic, you can use the same template to make blog type posts, articles or just image galleries. Anything you want! You can delete the navigational links entirely, you can make your site's index.html into a simple list of text links OR fun little image links to your different content, whatever! Your website can be nothing but a big ugly deep fried JPEG of goku with a recipe for potato salad on it, no other content ever, who cares! We did that kind of nonsense all the time in the 1990's and thought it was the pinnacle of comedy!! Maybe it still can be?!?! Or maybe you just want a place to put some artwork and thoughts of yours that doesn't come with the same baggage as big social media? Make a webpage this way and it will look the same in any browser, any operating system for years and years to come, because it's the same kind of basic raw code most of the internet depends upon!

[secondpersonpoetry]

Franziska Linkerhand, Brigitte Reimann

[jobean12-blog]

A Love for the (P)Ages

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Mob/Mafia AU)

Word Count: 1,170

Summary: Bucky might be the baddest mob boss in the city but he’s the softest and sweetest husband in the Universe. 

Author’s Note: I just love writing super soft Mob!Bucky and I love books and then I figured why not both and while this doesn’t focus on Mob stuff just keep that tucked away 🥰Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: fluff, fluffs and more fluffs :)

“Why can’t you just tell me where you’re taking me?” you ask as you walk toward him.

“Because it’s a surprise doll,” he says softly, circling his arms around your waist once you’re standing between his spread legs.

“Are you going to stay in your suit?”

He nods as he toys with the hem of the tee shirt you’re wearing.

“So should I put on one of the fancy dresses you’ve bought me? Or?”

His hand slides slowly over your hip, reverently tracing the curve of your body until his fingers wrap around the back of your neck and he pulls you down toward his lips.

“Wear anything you want doll face,” he whispers against them.

“Fine,” you pout playfully before kissing him. “Don’t give anything away!”

When you step out of your walk-in closet you find him at the mirror above the dresser fixing his tie. You meet him and reach out as if to help but instead start to undo it. He raises a questioning eyebrow but doesn’t protest.

Once his tie is off you drape it carefully over the dresser and open the first two buttons of his shirt then fix the collar. Your fingers toy with the chain that hangs around his neck, the one you gifted him, and you straighten the pendant at the end.

“There,” you say happily. “I love when you have it open like this…although, all the other women do too so I’m sure I’m going to be giving out plenty of dirty looks wherever we end up going.”

He chuckles and drags you into his chest, wrapping you up in his arms until he can run his nose along your throat with a soft inhale.

“Jealous baby doll?” he teases when he reaches the shell of your ear.

“Maybe just a little,” you admit on a gasp.  

“It’s only fair doll considering every man that lays eyes on you can’t seem to peel them away unless I punch them in the face.”

Your grin is wicked when you say, “well, I’m definitely something to look at.”

“You are the one and only thing worth looking at,” he murmurs as he steps back and his eyes sweep over you.

You soften at his words, linking your fingers with his as he tugs you out of the room.

“Now, let’s go because I have a feeling you’re going to want to spend a lot of time where I’m taking you.”

With his arm secured tightly around your waist and your eyes squeezed shut Bucky leads you toward your surprise.

“Now don’t open them until I say so, ok?”

“Ok,” you answer, digging your teeth into your bottom lip with excitement.

He opens a door to usher you inside and the moment you take that first step a wave of enchantment washes over you, carrying the aroma of aged leather and dusty pages.

His lips meet your ear and he whispers, “open up doll.”

Your eyes pop open and fill with the soft golden glow from the antique lamps that line the walls.

“Bucky!” you whisper shout, unable to take your eyes off the books but squeezing his hand tightly. “It’s amazing!”

You rush forward, tugging on his hand but he stops you with a gentle pull and you turn to look at him.

The corner of his mouth lifts into a boyish smirk and he crooks his finger. When you step into his embrace he dips his head and brushes his lips against yours.

“There’s only one rule while you’re here,” he whispers.

Your arms circle his neck and you smile. “And what’s that?”

“A kiss for every book I buy you.”

“What if I buy one hundred,” you giggle.

“Then lucky me,” he says with a wink.

You press yourself closer and pepper his face with kisses then finally find his lips. He’s reluctant to let you go but you hold his hand as you start to meander through the labyrinth of wooden shelves that are lined with books and seem to stretch on endlessly.

The old, wooden floor is worn from the traffic of numerous readers and you can’t help but run your fingertips along the spines of the books as you peruse the shelves as one of them.

“I don’t know where to begin,” you say softly, peeking over your shoulder at Bucky.

He smiles sweetly, his eyes trained on you and the joy you’re expressing.

“Take as long as you want doll.”

The urge to kiss him all over again is strong and so you grab the next book your fingers find and pull it from the shelf. As you flip through it you take slow steps toward him until your standing close enough that you can feel his warmth.

You open the book, carefully thumbing through the pages before lifting it to your nose and inhaling it’s scent.

“Oh I’m definitely getting this one!”

Without another word you hold it up for him and he takes a deep inhale. “Smells good.”

“Right!” you cheer with as much excitement as you can quietly. “And look, it’s a romance!”

He reads the title and his smile widens as he leans in for his kiss. It starts off slow and sweet, his lips a whisper against yours but when you press yourself closer and slide your hands over his chest, he closes the distance, pushing you toward the shelves until your back hits the dusty wood.

His fingers dance up your arm, tracing the curve of your shoulder and grazing your collarbone before his thumb presses under your chin and he tilts your head back to trail kisses along your throat.

“Bucky,” you breathe out, your fingers clenching the expensive fabric of his shirt. “Someone might see.”

“That’s ok baby doll,” he croons, finding your lips again. “I own the place.”

You suck in a breath and look him in the eyes.

“You…you own it.”

He nods and gathers you in his arms as he presses soft kisses to your face.

“You bought me a bookshop?”

“I did,” he states as if it’s nothing. “And don’t worry, the previous owners were perfectly happy with the agreement considering they were ready to retire and I promised I wouldn’t change anything about it other than the necessary upgrades.”

“I…” you stammer. “I just…I can’t believe it!”

“And you haven’t even seen the rest of it yet. You’re gonna love all the reading nooks and there’s a hidden attic that we can renovate into whatever you want.”

He kisses you again but before it starts to heat up you nibble his bottom lip and ask, “how many books do you think are in here?”

His smirk is wicked. “Oh there must be thousands of them doll face.”

“That’s a lot of kisses,” you purr.

He rests his hands against the bookshelf on either side of your head, trapping you in place as his face inches closer and his gaze falls to your mouth.

“It’ll never be enough,” he murmurs, brushing his lips along yours.

@book-dragon-13 @sebstanwhore @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @late-to-the-party-81 @justkinsey @kmc1989 @beccablogsthings @laineyreads @lookiamtrying​ @hallecarey1 @hiddles-rose​

[iceandpeaches]

mad at the gods; luke castellan

pairings: luke castellan x fem!reader (implied demeter kid)

warnings: fighting, betrayal, possible angst?, not proofread

summary: what if y/n had betrayed camp instead of luke...

a/n: short blurb because assignments have been keeping me busy lately.. i have so many drafts sitting in my docs

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

percy had just gotten back from his olympus, and the entirety of camp was cheering and clapping for him. he had just ended war, even you were happy for it. luke was stood beside you, overjoyed that he could finally spend some time with his girlfriend after the few hectic days he had keeping camp together.

soon, the evening was met with celebration and fireworks. you hated loud noise, so you and luke decided to reside in the inner parts of the forest. 

“what a celebration.”

“yeah i mean, percy stopped the war. of course there would be celebration.”

your hands shoved in the pockets of your cargo pants, fiddling with an object that you had put in it previously. your heart was racing. luke glanced up at you, brows furrowed as he wrapped his arms around you. 

“what’s wrong flower?”

your stomach drops, hand pressed against his chest; gently pushing him away. you nibble at your bottom lip, tears starting to form in your eyes. you reached into your pocket, slowly pulling out a sword larger than your usual dagger. luke simply watched, the sword causing him to back away.

“is that…?”

the sword was the length of your lower body, shining dark in your hands. 

“backbiter.”

you mumble, your chest rising and falling as you gripped the sword. even in the dark, you could see the concern in luke’s expression. backbiter wasn’t something you could just pull out, especially if it belonged to a god. luke reached in his own pocket, grabbing his own weapon.

“i… i don’t want to fight, luke.”

“then.. why did you do it?”

“i never meant to betray you, amore. i… i was mad at the gods. i’m sick and tired of trying to get my mother’s approval. i thought you of all people, would understand.”

luke’s mind flashed to all the times the two’s late night talks about the gods and how they wished they didn’t carry the responsibilities that came with them. you thought you’d be able to recruit luke, since you thought you two were on the same page, but apparently not. 

“what would your mother say?”

luke raised his sword pointing it at you, your grip tightening around backbiter. your lips quivered, unwilling to strike your weapon at your lover; but you had to do what you needed to do. you raised your sword, swinging at him. luke didn’t know whether to go easy on you, desperately trying to not hurt you at all. strands of your dark hair falling in your face as you fought hard, inhaling sharply when you felt a cut to your side. you drop your sword, grasping at your side. 

“flower i… i..”

you kneeled to pick up your sword, aimlessly slicing wherever on luke; sliced his calf. during the fight, you had already crossed the pillar twice; getting up still gripping your side and carving the last line to fully open the pillar. you turn to luke, his eyes glossy. in this moment, he desperately wanted you by his side to comfort him. you pointed the sword at him, hand shaking. 

“i’m sorry, luke. i... i love you.”

you ran through the portal, it closing behind you. luke was left in the dark, arm reached out toward the portal wishing you’d come back. he finally let himself go, only able to yell. tears streamed down his face, still in denial that you were now gone. 

“flower.. oh flower..”

[lakesbian]

Put the Undersiders in a busy airport or train station. How do they handle it? Who gets onto a the wrong flight/train? How many times would Aisha use her power to get into the cockpit or engine room of the train?

oh my GOD how is putting the undersiders in a busy airport or train station not one of the Situations we've put them in yet. this is great. paging @simurghed urgently. everyone please share your undersiders go to busy airport or train station thoughts this is my favorite kind of autism to engage in

brian is like. You know he's being brian about this. you know he's got his schedule printed out and all the tickets pointed out and they're in some little binder and he's making sure he specifically is carrying it the whole time. and the one time lisa casually reminds him to make sure he has xyz necessary item he's like I Have It, Don't Be Neurotic, because his coping mechanism for being nervous and feeling like a woman is questioning his Authority (<- assumed as the main and eternal coping mechanism) is misogyny. love him.

obviously taylor is bringing bugs with her wherever they go and i like to imagine if theyre sitting down in an airport waiting for a really long time and they were in one of the areas where the birds have gotten inside and are nesting + looking for food (that's a universal airport feature right? the birds that got indoors and just live there now?) she might entertain alec and aisha and also herself by flying bugs around 4 the birds and leading them on little hunting excursions and into loops and shit.

aisha takes selfies in the cockpit or engine room (shes posing next to the pilot and making bunny ears behind their head with her fingers) whenever she gets bored and then comes back to show them to alec and brian realizes theres Muffled Laughter happening in their row after aishas been Not There for a while and is like. hmm. that cant be good. and is doing a really bad job of trying to twist himself out of his seat casual-style to find out whats all that then. i can also imagine him insisting on seating himself next to aisha

...three seat plane rows. brian sitting in the middle of aisha and alec and having a wretched time. taylor rachel and lisa lezzing it up in the row in front of them.

i think alec would really enjoy take-off on a plane because Wheee he's all floaty :) and then spend the next however many hours experiencing boredom-induced ego death. possible activities include: fiddling around on his ds. making a little teenager-typical 2011-era flipaclip animation. accidentally falling asleep on brian's arm and starting to snore and drool while aisha is doing the same thing on his other arm. watching a bad movie on his little in-flight tv screen and hopefully trying to engage both brian and aisha in conversation about it because he wants to have friends.

okay i diverged from the point of air Port or train Station sorry. ive never been in a real train station so i have less to speak for there but i think it would be fun to watch the undersiders get crotchety with each other in a long line for overpriced airport food.

imagine if you will brian and taylor trying to fit comfortably in a Nappable Position in the chairs in the flight waiting area. leg cramp city

i think this would all probably be very stressful for rachel :( maybe she andt aylor should hold hands about it. to be safe.

i want to see how lisa tries to make waiting in an airport an enriching and fulfilling activity for taylor so bad. honestly it would probably be no matter what. real bonding experience.

brian laborn tries to carry 9 suitcases at once: and other fun adventures in toxic masculinity

alec vasil has to go pee, right now, for approximately 10-15 minutes, when he's asked to find something in a heavy bag: and other fun adventures in shirking responsibility

aisha laborn's mysterious magical snack manifestation: and other fun adventures in robbing the airport

you know if they were at a busy train station brian would do that thing where he ushers the undersiders around physically and it is fully an indicator of his psychological issues but also it'd be cute. it'd be cute to watch him blocking the crowd so everyone else could move more comfortably and use his Height Advantage to guide everyone most efficiently by pressing on their backs. his psychological issues are endearing

people keep asking about How Much Longer Until Boarding and lisa starts getting bored and providing real-time updates of the Precise amount of time left. if theres a delay she reads out why too

???

its nice. to imagine if they could have a fun time going to locations.

[kremlin]

How DOES the C preprocessor create two generations of completely asinine programmers??

oh man hahah oh maaan. ok, this won't be very approachable.

i don't recall what point i was trying to make with the whole "two generations" part but ill take this opportunity to justifiably hate on the preprocessor, holy fuck the amount of damage it has caused on software is immeasurable, if you ever thought computer programmers were smart people on principle...

the cpp:

there are like forty preprocessor directives, and they all inject a truly mind-boggling amount of vicious design problems and have done so for longer than ive been alive. there really only ever needed to be one: #include , if only to save you the trouble of manually having to copy header files in full & paste them at the top of your code. and christ almighty, we couldn't even get that right. C (c89) has way, waaaay fewer keywords than any other language. theres like 30, and half of those aren't ever used, have no meaning or impact in the 21st century (shit like "register" and "auto"). and C programmers still fail to understand all of them properly, specifically "static" (used in a global context) which marks some symbol as inelligible to be touched externally (e.g. you can't use "extern" to access it). the whole fucking point of static is to make #include'd headers rational, to have a clear seperation between external, intended-to-be-accessed API symbols, and internal, opaque shit. nobody bothers. it's all there, out in the open, if you #include something, you get all of it, and brother, this is only the beginning, you also get all of its preprocessor garbage.

this is where the hell begins:

#if #else

hey, do these look familiar? we already fucking have if/else. do you know what is hard to understand? perfectly minimally written if/else logic, in long functions. do you know what is nearly impossible to understand? poorly written if/else rats nests (which is what you find 99% of the time). do you know what is completely impossible to understand? that same poorly-written procedural if/else rat's nest code that itself is is subject to another higher-order if/else logic.

it's important to remember that the cpp is a glorified search/replace. in all it's terrifying glory it fucking looks to be turing complete, hell, im sure the C++ preprocessor is turing complete, the irony of this shouldn't be lost on you. if you have some long if/else logic you're trying to understand, that itself is is subject to cpp #if/#else, the logical step would be to run the cpp and get the output pure C and work from there, do you know how to do that? you open the gcc or llvm/clang man page, and your tty session's mem usage quadruples. great job idiot. trying figuring out how to do that in the following eight thousand pages. and even if you do, you're going to be running the #includes, and your output "pure C" file (bereft of cpp logic) is going to be like 40k lines. lol.

the worst is yet to come:

#define #ifdef #ifndef (<- WTF) #undef you can define shit. you can define "anything". you can pick a name, whatever, and you can "define it". full stop. "#define foo". or, you can give it a value: "#define foo 1". and of course, you can define it as a function: "#define foo(x) return x". wow. xzibit would be proud. you dog, we heard you wanted to kill yourself, so we put a programming language in your programming language.

the function-defines are pretty lol purely in concept. when you find them in the wild, they will always look something like this:

#define foo(x,y) \ (((x << y)) * (x))

i've seen up to seven parens in a row. why? because since cpp is, again, just a fucking find&replace, you never think about operator precedence and that leads to hilarious antipaterns like the classic

#define min(x,y) a < b ? a : b

which will just stick "a < b ? a: b" ternary statement wherever min(.. is used. just raw text replacement. it never works. you always get bitten by operator precedence.

the absolute worst is just the bare defines:

#define NO_ASN1 #define POSIX_SUPPORTED #define NO_POSIX

etc. etc. how could this be worse? first of all, what the fuck are any of these things. did they exist before? they do now. what are they defined as? probably just "1" internally, but that isn't the point, the philosophy here is the problem. back in reality, in C, you can't just do something like "x = 0;" out of nowhere, because you've never declared x. you've never given it a type. similar, you can't read its value, you'll get a similar compiler error. but cpp macros just suddenly exist, until they suddenly don't. ifdef? ifndef? (if not defined). no matter what, every permutation of these will have a "valid answer" and will run without problem. let me demonstrate how this fucks things up.

do you remember "heartbleed" ? the "big" openssl vulnerability ? probably about a decade ago now. i'm choosing this one specifically, since, for some reason, it was the first in an annoying trend for vulns to be given catchy nicknames, slick websites, logos, cable news coverage, etc. even though it was only a moderate vulnerability in the grand scheme of things...

(holy shit, libssl has had huge numbers of remote root vulns in the past, which is way fucking worse, heartbleed only gave you a random sampling of a tiny bit of internal memory, only after heavy ticking -- and nowadays, god, some of the chinese bluetooth shit would make your eyeballs explode if you saw it; a popular bt RF PHY chip can be hijacked and somehow made to rewrite some uefi ROMs and even, i think, the microcode on some intel chips)

anyways, heartbleed, yeah, so it's a great example since you could blame it two-fold on the cpp. it involved a generic bounds-checking failure, buf underflow, standard shit, but that wasn't due to carelessness (don't get me wrong, libssl is some of the worst code in existence) but because the flawed cpp logic resulted in code that:

A.) was de-facto worthless in definition B.) a combination of code supporting ancient crap. i'm older than most of you, and heartbleed happened early in my undergrad. the related legacy support code in question hadn't been relevant since clinton was in office.

to summarize, it had to do with DTLS heartbeats. DTLS involves handling TLS (or SSLv3, as it was then, in the 90s) only over UDP. that is how old we're talking. and this code was compiled into libssl in the early 2010s -- when TLS had been the standard for a while. TLS (unlike SSLv3 & predecessors) runs over TCP only. having "DTLS heartbeat support in TLS does not make sense by definition. it is like drawing a triangle on a piece of paper whose angles don't add up to 180.

how the fuck did that happen? the preprocessor.

why the fuck was code from last century ending up compiled in? who else but!! the fucking preprocessor. some shit like:

#ifndef TCP_SUPPORT <some crap related to UDP heartbeats> #endif ... #ifndef NO_UDP_ONLY <some TCP specific crap> #endif

the header responsible for defining these macros wasn't included, so the answer to BOTH of these "if not defined" blocks is true! because they were never defined!! do you see?

you don't have to trust my worldview on this. have you ever tried to compile some code that uses autoconf/automake as a build system? do you know what every single person i've spoken to refers to these as? autohell, for automatic hell. autohell lives and dies on cpp macros, and you can see firsthand how well that works. almost all my C code has the following compile process:

"$ make". done. Makefile length: 20 lines.

the worst i've ever deviated was having a configure script (probably 40 lines) that had to be rune before make. what about autohell? jesus, these days most autohell-cursed code does all their shit in a huge meta-wrapper bash script (autogen.sh), but short of that, if you decode the forty fucking page INSTALL doc, you end up with:

$ automake (fails, some shit like "AUTOMAKE_1.13 or higher is required) $ autoconf (fails, some shit like "AUTOMCONF_1.12 or lower is required) $ aclocal (fails, ???) $ libtoolize (doesn't fail, but screws up the tree in a way that not even a `make clean` fixes $ ???????? (pull hair out, google) $ autoreconf -i (the magic word) $ ./configure (takes eighty minutes and generates GBs of intermediaries) $ make (runs in 2 seconds)

in conclusion: roflcopter

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ disclaimer | private policy | unsubscribe

[konigenblobbity]

Request: Emergency Contact

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x GN!Military!Reader (Callsign Viper)

Warnings: Angst, mention of severe injury, mention of car accident, slow burn

Request: [@lovestruckaphrodite] (this request is based on a Pierce the Vail song, but I suck at writing and i trust your words). y/n and ghost became roommates after meeting somewhere. They moved in together after something happened in y/ns life that made them either get kicked out of their house/had to leave their house so they become roommates. they weren't really close with one another regarding their jobs, but knew that both of them were in the military, just not in the same task force. then one day, Ghost gets a call in the middle of a meeting from an unknown number, but a familiar area code (the one y/n and he lived in) so he answers, and y/n was injured and had to get emergency surgery, and y/n put him as the emergency contact

A/n: this took a WHILE! But I hope you like it! Also I used the term dove - wanting it to be GN :). This work is also HIGHLY inspired to this work by @mockerycrow! If you like this please go show them some love!

Every Tuesday afternoon you spent in the same place doing the same thing. Sitting in your corner seat in your favorite cafe waiting for your drink. In fact many of the locals loved to visit this exact cafe, so you often saw the same people walk in and out of the doors. Not really caring, often reading a book or on your phone.

Its then that he walks in, you can tell by his heavy footsteps and his soft sigh as he takes his usual seat in the cafe - preferring the one closer to the window one table from you. You try not to be obvious with your gaze, watching through your lashes as he adjusts his sleeves and then places both his hands in his lap, fingers interlocked before pulling out his phone.

Ever since you started seeing him in this cafe a few months ago, you were infatuated with him. His blonde hair which he appeared to bleach himself, his signature black face mask paired with a skull patterned mask that covered up the bottom half of his face along with most of his neck, his tattoo sleeve that you only got a glimpse of on the hotter days he wore a t-shirt.

What was fascinating is how’d you see him at other places too… at your local grocery store, bank, park, even the bookstore. After a while you came to the conclusion that you had to live in the same area, or that he was simply a ghost haunting you and following you everywhere. With how much you saw him, you began to notice more about him…

Others didn’t dare look at him, let alone sit near him. His whole demeanor radiated authority and power. However rather than feeling threatened, you felt intrigued. Matter of fact… he reminded you of a lieutenant you heard rumors of around your task force. A ruthless and highly trained individual, who wore a similar skull balaclava paired with a skull mask. What a coincidence.

Finally your eyes land back on your book, not wanting him to spot you burning a hole into him with your gaze. Luckily that now gave him his opportunity to do the same, leaning back just enough to glance over the top of his phone and at you without making it obvious he was staring.

He recognized you, remembers seeing you last week at the grocery store and before that having seen you at the library. Wherever he was in the area, his eyes always managed to find you; turning a corner and hearing your familiar hum of a song, spotting your through the windows of restaurants with a friend, even walking through the doors of a store and seeing you already in line with a kind smile.

Maybe it was the familiarity that came with seeing you so often but he couldn’t help but open his mouth whenever you got close, trying to find the words to introduce himself. Yet he never could, just letting you walk off with your steps echoing the sound of his racing heart. Breaking from his thoughts as you flipped the page of your book, he took notice of something on your arm.

Right on your inner forearm, under where you had rolled up your sleeves, he saw a rather familiar symbol. The tip of two wings were showing along with the top a knife handle, he furrowed his brows and became curious. Beginning to devise a plan.

He stands up softly taps the edge of your table “Excuse me dove…” he says and you turn to look at him and giving a kind smile and letting out a soft hum of curiosity, urging him to continue. “Mind if I take some of your sugar?” He points over at the container on the end of your table “Don’t have any on my table” he clarifies further, wanting to appear smooth.

“oh! Yeah, here!” you reach forward and grab it, handing it to him “I don’t need it” you add, suddenly feeling so nervous your mouth feels the need to move and speak. It’s then that he gets a better look at the tattoo, and he smirked under his mask. It was exactly what he thought it was. Sitting on your forearm was a set of wings erupting from a SAS dagger, a banner below it reading ‘Who dares win’ in black ink.

“Would you look at that…” he mumbles softly, but clear enough for you to hear. You just look at him confused, both at his words and the fact that he hadn’t taken the sugar yet. “You a soldier?” He asks and that’s when you notice his gaze wasn’t on the sugar, but on your forearm.

Your eyes shifts down to your tattoo before lifting it back up to look into his eyes. With a soft smile you respond “Sergeant actually…” a bit of pride in your voice. Then using this opportunity to get to know this mysterious gentleman “I’m guessing you serve?” You inquire with a tilt of your head.

He gives you a curt nod, “Spot on” finally reaching forward and taking the sugar container. He holds onto it for the moment and then lifts his right hand, grabbing his jacket and opening it to show you the inner lining where a patch is sown in. It had that same symbol; the SAS dagger and wings. You chuckle softly and then mumble “What are the chances���

Just as you were about to ask his rank and which task force he is a part of, the server told you that your order was ready and simultaneously he received a phone call. You stand up and then smile over at the gentleman “it was nice to meet you…” pausing afterwards as you realized you don’t know his name.

“Callsign Ghost” he spoke with a light chuckle and reaches out his hand. You take it with a small nod “Viper” smiling as you responded. You then pull your hand back “Until next time I guess?” You ask and after he gives you a short nod in response, he walks back to his seat, takes the call, and leaves. Funnily enough not adding any sugar to his drink.

As time passed you continued to see Ghost quite often around the area, always exchanging hellos, checking up on timely things going on in each others lives. Even feeling comfortable to compliment him on his new watch to which he points out your shirt, saying how he didn’t recognize it. Making the effort to check in on each other if the person seems particularly chipper that day.

You should’ve known by how often you saw him that there was a chance you two lived in the same apartment complex. Yet you never saw him there so it was always just a theory in the back of both your and Ghost’s mind.

The first time he sees your there was a few months after you first met, when he was making his way back to his apartment and saw you at the receptionist desk he couldn’t help but be confused. Then becoming intrigued as he noticed you were arguing frantically with the receptionist.

“Look. Lydia is there any way someone can get started on the treatment today. I can’t stay at a hotel for weeks on end!” His brows furrowed at just how agitated you sounded. Spotting a large suitcase next to you along with a few bags. “Yes! I heard you the first time. Just… Is there any other apartment I can stay in?” You were practically pacing and steaming with rage.

“Then can you bring him out here! Seeing as he’s my fucking landlord!” The receptionist walks off for a moment and Ghost continues to observe. When they come back she says something that makes you scoff. You then lean over the desk and shout into the direction the receptionist had walked off to.

“Thank you so much for your help! I really appreciate how empathetic you are about the whole situation you fucking prick” Before stepping away from the desk and sitting at one of the chairs with your things. He chuckles to himself at your sarcasm, walking up to you when you pull out your phone and curse out in frustration.

“Viper?” Your head lifts and you spot Ghost walking up to you, “Hey… Ghost?” you look at him confused but then give him your best attempt at a smile. “I didn’t know you lived here.” He states and you scoff, shaking your head. “Not anymore. The pipes in the apartment above mine broke so there’s water damage everywhere. The landlord kicked me out while they fix it but didn’t give me anywhere else I could stay… so I’m currently homeless” you pinch the bridge of your nose and grumble.

He chuckled dryly “Well shit. I’m not surprised, that asshole never gives in any effort expect when it comes to drinking…” you can’t help but laugh softly at his joke. Ghost feels a butterfly sensation when he heard it, finding pride in lifting your mood ever so slightly.

“Anyone you can stay with? Or a hotel?” He then asks and you shake your head, looking at him and sighing. “No. No one I’d be willing to live with for weeks. And no hotel I’m willing to spend an unknown amount of money on for an indefinite amount of time”

At his soft hum of understanding you just shrug and there’s a comforting silence for a minute. He simply stood there as you aimlessly search through your phone for nearby hotels. “What if you stayed with me?” His words caught you off guard. Thinking he was joking you chuckle and look at him with furrowed brows and a questioning smile.

“What?” You ask and he shrugs, as if what he suggested wasn’t completely out of the blue and naively bold. “Why not? I mean we both are out most days. No point paying the rent for two apartments when neither of us spend most of our time there.” Your shock and skepticism slowly fades as you consider his words.

“Well… you have a point.” You murmur softly and put your phone in your pocket before putting you hands on your hips, looking down at your bags. “Are you sure?” You ask and he just nods, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah. Dove, as long as you pay your half and respect my ground rules. It should be just fine. I got a guest room you can use” he explains and you nod at his words.

Then sighing and shrugging dramatically. “Alright! It’s not like I got a better option right now” you smile at him and hear him chuckle dryly. With that he takes one of your bags and throws it over his shoulder, grabbing the handle of your large suitcase and beginning to walk off to the elevator with it. “Come on. The sooner we get there, the sooner you can get settled in” you grin and grab the rest of your things, following after him.

At first you wouldn’t see Ghost that often, having different schedules and both of you immediately heading to your rooms to enjoy your time off. Slowly the two of you ended up seeking out each other’s company. Running into each other in the kitchen and enjoying a nice drink together after a long day.

Roughly two months later, when your apartment was fixed and ready for you to move in again, you spoke to Ghost and both of you agreed it would just be better to stay roommates. Over the next few months getting even closer, ordering food together for dinner, waking each other up in the mornings if one of you were sleeping in, distributing the chores, even going by a first name basis.

-

At this point you’ve been roommates for more than half a year, and it was just as any other day for Ghost. Sitting in a meeting with Captain Price up front telling the team about an upcoming mission. The goal, precautions, sub teams, targets, security, the whole nine yards.

Its then that he’s interrupted by a ringing phone. Ghost immediately cursing to himself as he feels the vibration in his pocket, meeting Price’s unamused gaze. He sighs “Off lieutenant.” To which Ghost nods “On it, sorry Captain” pulling his phone out of his pocket and turning off the ringer.

Not without spotting the unknown number and it’s familiar area code. Right from the area where you and Ghost lived. He noted down in his head to check it out after the meeting.

10 minutes later he walked out of the room, reaching his hand into his pocket and grabbing his phone. Curiosity getting the better of him as he pressed the most recent missed call. Holding the phone to his ear as it rang, leaning against the wall behind him as he waited.

After a few moments there was a click and a kind voice spoke. “Hello, am I speaking with a Simon Riley?” Ghost’s brows immediately furrowed, put at unease by the fact this stranger knew his name. “Who is this?” his tone stern and cautious as he waits for a response. “How’d you get this number?” he asks before the person on the other line could respond.

The voice then clears their throat “Thank you for calling back, this is the Woman’s and Children Highbury Hospital. You were put down as an emergency contact” the name of the hospital immediately registered with him… recognizing it as the hospital just a few blocks down from where you and him lived.

His heart caught in his throat and he stiffened up, now standing up straight looking off into nowhere. “Emergency contact?” he repeated to himself, mumbling so softly he thought the receptionist on the other line hadn’t heard him. Until he spoke.

“Yes sir. By an y/n y/l/n. They were in a severe car collision earlier today and were rushed to the hospital. They had to undergo an emergency surgery and in their files they left you as the emergency contact.” Ghost felt as if he lost the ability to speak. His phone shaking in his hand as the weight of those words sink in.

The voice of the receptionist fading away as he calls out through the phone, trying to get a response or a sign that Ghost was still listening. Realizing that in that moment of time you were lying in a hospital bed, suffering immensely, all alone. Snapping out of his daze as all his attention went to getting to that hospital.

“I’m on my way.” He spoke curtly into the phone, immediately hanging up and rushing to leave the base. Pushing past people without much care as he simply regarded them as obstacles in his way, stopping him from getting to you. As he rushed to the hospital, his mind was a storm he couldn’t manage to contain. Emotions running rampant.

Ghost never fully took the time to reflect on how he felt about you. Only knowing he enjoyed your company and couldn’t help but relax his reserved demeanor around you. Never feeling judged by you, or needing to explain anything about his past or why he acted the way he did.

Yet… as he rushed over to the hospital all he could think about was what he would’ve done if you hadn’t survived the accident. How he would’ve returned home to an empty apartment… fragments of you all around him. The photos you hung up to ‘add more life’ to the walls. Or the carpet you bought for an outrageous price just because ‘the woman who made it was so nice’.

How he would’ve never been able to share another drink with you… or argue about takeout ever again… never heard you singing to yourself while doing the chores. All those things that lifted his mood, he would’ve lost them all. If he had lost you… his closest friend and roommate.

His mind continued to fall down that rabbit hole of ‘what if’ and the more upset he got at the idea of you not longer being around, the more he realized just how much you meant to him.

Considering the idea that maybe he loved you more than a friend… cared for you so much that the mere idea of you being in pain made his knees weak. And the idea of you no longer being around had his body about ready to collapse in on itself.

How he managed to make it to the hospital without breaking down, he wasn’t quite sure. As he bursts through the doors he ignores the judgmental glances he gets. Rushing up to the receptionist desk in the lobby, the man behind it terrified at first at the sight of Ghost, still in his uniform and wearing his skull mask, rushing at him.

Ghosts hand gripped at the counter “Which room is y/n y/l/n in?!” although his voice was low and gruff the softness and worry behind it was enough for the receptionist to regain his focus. Eyes blinking and clearing his throat as he asks “A-and who are you sir?” looking at his screen as he awaits his response.

“Gho-…. Simon. Riley” he corrected watching the receptionist double check the information. “The emergency contact” he clarifies further, tapping his fingers anxiously and impatiently on the desk as he looks around, seeing people on crutches, injured, and bleeding. Images of you in that state making him close his eyes, just needing to see you. Alive and breathing.

The receptionist then nods his head and looks up at him again. “They’re in room 32 on the third floor, but I’ll warn you they-“ before he could finish his statement Ghost mumbled a thank you and was bolting down the hall. Straight past the elevator and rushing up the stairs skipping over steps with pounding footsteps.

Eyes spotting the room number at the end of the hall, and just as he was a foot away from the door, mere meters away from you… a doctor opened it and walked out. She looked up and Ghost halted to a stop as to not run into her.

“Ah. You must be Simon” giving him a sympathetic smile. Ghost could feel his heart pounding and his eyes kept flitting to the door “Y-yeah” he says quickly before trying to move past the doctor and through the door. Surprised when she steps in front of him blocking his path.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be able to see them in a moment” he looked at her with disbelief, eyes wide… how dare she keep him from you for a second longer. She then speaks before he can protest “I just want to warn you of the state they’re in…” and with those words he thinks better than to just burst in through the door.

Grumbling under his breath but turning his gaze back to the doctor, letting her know he was listening. She continued “They’re alive but asleep at the moment” just those two first words enough to make his shoulders relax, and he swore his vision went hazy at the relief that flooded through him.

“They are, however, suffering from major bruising, multiple broken ribs, a fractured wrist, and a broken foot” her face sympathetic as she spoke, gauging his reaction. With every diagnosis his heart twisted that little bit more. Repeating to himself in his mind ‘At least they’re alive. At least they’re still here’ like a mantra, trying to focus on the ever so slight silver lining.

‘At least it’s not too late’

The doctor then finally steps aside, calmly advising him “I recommend you take a deep breath. They’re very emotionally vulnerable right now and we want to avoid stressing them out as much as possible” Ghost was more than ready to ignore that advice but at the thought of stressing you out, and remembering what he’s learned about how important it is not to panic in high stress situations, he pauses and gives a slight nod.

The doctor gives one final nod in return and then leaves. Simon takes a deep breath and with a shaking hand reaches for the doorknob. Gripping it and just holding it for a few seconds before finally finding the strength to turn it and walk inside.

There you were… lying practically lifeless on the hospital bed. Only sign of life the beeping of the heart monitor. Covered in white bandages which contrasted the deep purple bruises across your skin. His eyes continued to trace over your sleeping figure, noting the few gashes in your skin, the one on your calf even decorated with stitching.

You looked awful… it made him sick and he almost went looking for a trash can as he felt vomit threaten to make its way up his throat. He steps closer, moving to kneel on the floor next to the bed, eyes welling up in joy as he finally sees you… finally has proof that he didn’t lose you.

Eyes focused on the rise and fall of your chest and in the silence of the room… in the steady beeping of the monitor… he was finally able to organize his thoughts. Questioning himself on why he felt his world shatter when the hospital called him, why he was crying underneath his mask at the sight of you, why he could physically feel pain in his chest.

Then his eyes drifted up to your face, and even with the cuts and bruises on your face you still made his heart skip. He found himself tracing your every feature with his gaze, as if trying to map it out in his head. He’s never been this close to you before and in this moment he realized why… he couldn’t handle being this close to you.

It was as if he could feel his body physically melt next to you, hand reaching for yours before gently holding it, hoping it would keep him from dissolving into a puddle. Cursing to himself he rested his forehead against your hand and closed his eyes.

He loved you. Simon Riley really fucking loved you.

Never fully considering it before today… too afraid to even think about his feelings towards you. Yet now he regretted every day he didn’t tell you he loved you. Didn’t tell you how much you meant to him. This felt like another chance for him.

Another chance for him to share his true feelings with you because he just couldn’t lose you. Especially not without you knowing how much he loved you first. How he’d be willing to take every single one of your wounds on as his own just so you don’t have to suffer like this.

You had to know. He had to tell you before it was too late. He would wait by your bed for days on end, never once letting go of you, until you woke up. He wouldn’t let anyone or anything drag you away from him, not again. Not without a fight.

[thefiery-phoenix]

PLATONIC YANDERE HANSU SEONG HEADCANONS

It doesn't matter if you're his actual child or not, he will get over protective of you one way or another so there's just no denying or escape from him. You could meet him by being a friend of Taehun's as surprising as that is or you could take Taekwando lessons from him. It doesn't matter what you do, you're a literal angel in his eyes who can't do anything wrong. Ever. Frankly he's surprised that you've managed to befriend his hot tempered son but he's still glad his son has someone to rely on

You'd drop by his house most of the time and Hansu looked forward to your visits, you were such a sweet little thing, always checking up on him and asking him about his day and you even manage to get his son on line. Taehun might be a platonic yandere for you as well in this scenario and honestly, I wish you luck because these two when they work together as a duo, consider them to be an unstoppable father son duo. Hansu will feel his over protective instincts kick in instantly when you tell him you feel like learning Taekwando from him because of bullies in your school. He might look calm and collected on the outside but inside, he's a seething and raging volcano. How dare a bunch of random brats pick on you? He gets annoyed at teenagers these days who have nothing better to do than make others feel insecure about themselves and you can bet your allowance he and Taehun will take care of those punks for you. And by taking care of them, I mean kicking them to another dimension altogether till they forget their name by using their famous 1440 kick

He will never let you go anywhere by yourself, he has free time on his hands so he's always willing to drop you wherever you need to go. If you're meeting with someone else, he'll have pages and pages of their biodata with him to simply ensure you're not meeting with someone suspicious that can possibly threaten your life and safety. What? He's simply making sure you're safe and no, he's not following you around or stalking you like how Taehun puts it. Actually scratch that, he totally is but in his defense, he does get quite paranoid about your safety. He's already dealt with Taehun running away from home plenty of times, he can't let the same happen to you. Besides, he's made far too many enemies in his lifetime, he'll be DAMNED if he lets anything happen to you

He feels reluctant to let you leave his house, he just wants to keep you safe. Pretty soon, his over compulsive need to safeguard you and protect you will overcome him and before you know it, you'll now be living with him and his son. He knows it's a big change for you and it'll take some time for you to adjust but don't worry, he's willing to do whatever you want and will give you whatever you ask for. Except for your freedom of course. He treats you like a fragile porcelain doll that'll break at any given moment and sometimes that does a bit frustrating. He knows how trapped and uneasy you feel about the situation but he really can't help it, he doesn't like the way your parents are supposedly taking care of you. What parent doesn't even realize their child returning home late at night? If he was actually your parent he'd have a damn heart attack and possibly prevent you from going wherever you wanted to in the first place anyway

He won't keep you locked up forever though, he knows you need some time outside so if there's anywhere you want to go, Taehun will be ready to accompany you and he doesn't need any convincing to keep an eye on his new sibling. Hansu isn't borderline insane to keep you locked up forever. However he'll have to put his foot down when you tell him you feel like fighting other people, you can expect a firm no from him. It doesn't matter what form of martial arts you've learnt or how many awards and trophies you've won for MMA boxing or wrestling, a no means a no. That's it. He does have a good reason to be worried for you though, his son is always busy getting into fights, he does NOT need to worry about you injuring and hurting yourself. As much as Taehun loves Taekwando, he might teach you a few basic moves but that's it. He doesn't want you getting involved in fights either and putting yourself at risk

They might be over protective of you and they'll do whatever it takes to ensure no harm befalls upon you. I can't really say the same for your enemies or rivals though. Boy, they're going to rue the day they've met you and avoid you like the damn Corona after Taehun and Hansu are done dealing with him by kicking them to oblivion. They will show zero mercy on anyone who dares to even THINK to lay a single finger on your head. Yakuza boss, drug addict, teenager they don't give a damn

Unfortunately for you, you won't even be allowed to be a part of the Hobin Yoo company either since they're always getting into some kind of dangerous mess. If you're into reading books Hansu will buy you all the books you want. If you love writing, he'll love reading your works and encourage you with your writing. If you love to sing, he'll be more than happy to listen to you sing and will of course, kick Taehun on the head when he tells you that you sing like a screening cat, jokingly of course. If you're into cooking, you can share your recipes with Hansu but he won't allow you to come near the fire or touch the knives and the stove so, you're out of luck there. Be glad he didn't end up baby proofing the house instead

You aren't allowed to talk to guys either so you can say sayonara to your love life. As long as he's alive he won't allow to even TALK to another guy other than Taehun, the idea of you dating someone else is a pretty far fetched idea altogether. He's just worried someone will try to steal you away which is something he clearly doesn't want happening. Doesn't matter if it's a girl either, no dating for you. He'll just give the person you're interested in a death glare till it literally burns a hole through their soul and if they're smart enough, they'll get the hint and severe ties with you. You'll be upset but don't worry, your dad is there to comfort you and provide you with whatever support you need. You can tell him anything you want, except everytime you tell him about how someone wronged you, they'll be dealt with

All in all, Hansu really cares for you as his own. He adores you and just wants to see you happy, like any other parent. Is it so wrong to protect your loved ones from the harshness and reality of the world?

[sforzesco]

hiii so. i really really admire you because of the depth of research you put into your art (even as someone who tends to fall down deep research holes i'm in Awe) but also because of the art itself - and i wanted to ask if you had any recommendations for someone who wants to get better at drawing? (books to read, things to do?) especially for figure drawing as you have (to my untrained eye) one of the best balances of style realism and naturalness and in general just overall make some of the best art i've ever seen methinks

this is really high praise, thank you so much!

as for art advice and recommendations for getting better at drawing, I 100% believe in carrying around a sketchbook wherever you go. if the pressure of having nice pages is something that bothers you, get a stack of sticky notes because you can cover up mistakes and re draw over it immediately, and squares of color will add some fun to a page later when you flip through everything.

ideally, I think there's a balance to skill building and having a good time, and I tend to split my own sketchbooks between life drawing (frequently I'll draw windows I think look neat or my morning coffee) and doodling shit for fun. I try out a lot of different styles and draw a lot of nonsense just because it felt like a good time. I do a lot of edward gorey type stuff because the line work process is comfy.

one way to go about doing this is to pick a direction (so to speak) that seems interesting, and build along side it! when I first decided I wanted to take art more seriously, I started looking up pictures of renaissance statues and drawing those. trying to draw those. it took a long time to get my art to look anything like a bernini statue, but I had a lot of fun learning that I really enjoyed drawing hands! comics are another good one, naoki urasawa's work is fucking genius level to me, I regularly revisit monster and do studies off of literally everything he does.

(I also keep a separate sketchbook for figure studies. this is mostly because I really enjoy drawing the human figure, this is very relaxing for me personally: I rotate between doing gesture drawings, contour drawings, and longer anatomy studies)

finally, I have found reading books on art history to be critical in my own process. so much about art history will tell you how to convey a million words into a singular composition. idk how much of that will be of interest or help to you, but I personally found it helpful, especially in understanding how to read things visually, which in turn helped me figure out how I wanted to tackle drawing something

and! two books I've found invaluable for anatomy were george bridgman's constructive anatomy and michael d. mattesi's force: drawing human anatomy, although I might recommend morpho's books above them now, like oh my god morpho is so good.

OH the other thing. this is something I picked up from when I was taking an animation class in art school, but sometimes I'll put on a movie or show I really like and do thumbnail studies of the frames while I watch. there's a lot to learn in a frame! shapes are important. god I love shapes.

[crabsnpersimmons]

yo dawg, or i guess uhhhh

yo crab

what are those marker pens that you used in your exam 2 moon doodle? are they felt tips? can i buy 'em online? i like how they look on your sketchbook, but maybe its the type ya use. what's your current sketchbook brand?

sorry just curious, take your time answerin

yo yo! no problemo!

they're pentel brush sign pens! they're water-based, felt-tip pens with a flexible nib:

i bought them online from amazon as birthday present a while back, so you may be able to buy them online, depending on your location (i'm from Canada!) they also come in a pack of "standard" colours, like your usual red, orange, yellow, etc. pack, but i don't have that pack 😅

i included two swatch pages so you can see how they look on different papers. the left one is my pocket sketchbook (the same sketchbook that the Moon doodle is on), which has smooth paper. whereas the right swatch page is on my larger sketchbook, which has textured paper (which I think might be for dry mediums... but oh well). you can see on the left swatches, the colours are lighter but a bit inconsistent (you can see some speckling). but on the right swatches, the colours are deeper and the lines show more feathering, but the colours are fairly consistent. neither of these bother me too much though, because it's these happy little accidents that make traditional art fun (and to drop kick my perfectionism)

also! just an extra note, pentel also sells a very similar looking pen but the tip is not flexible. so if you don't like brush pens, that's an option, but i believe it only comes in the standard colour pack. if you like these colours, i think the brush pen is your only option (but as far as brush pens go, these are fairly beginner friendly!)

as for my sketchbook... that's tougher to answer 😅

it's a pocket sketchbook i got from my local dollar store, and they don't even carry this size anymore 😭 they carry larger sizes, but i specifically wanted something small that i can put in my pocket and literally just doodle wherever i am. i don't have a lot of info on the brand or the paper quality, but i can tell you it's a bit yellow, as smooth as printer paper but slightly thinner than printer paper, so my markers and fineliners will show through the other page. i included a photo of a spread in my sketchbook where you can see the markers and lines on the other side of the pages showing through (also featuring that exam Moon doodle, some very rough character design explorations, and @starriegalaxy's Fear Factor boys)

but as always, i try not to fixate on the paper or the colours too much when i'm just sketching. my sketchbook is a place for me to experiment and play, and drawing on a cheap sketchbook with markers that bleed through or don't colour smoothly helps me to throw perfection out the window and just draw because it doesn't need to be perfect, it just needs to be

[thegamingcatmom]

First off I absolutely love this page, you are doing this fandom a great service and i love seeing your thoughts and opinions on the denalis💜 was just wondering how you think the sisters would react to their mate defending their honour like if someone was bothering them at the club and their mate punched them...sorry for the long ass post...seriously though your keeping the thirst for the denalis alive

-👻(hope this emoji isn't already claimed)

Hey 👻!

(That is the cutest thing, btw.)

First off: I apologize for the long wait. To you and anyone else who´s sent me an ask that I have yet to answer. I see them, and I will get to them at some point. (Some of them are sitting half-answered in my drafts actually, hehe.) 🙏❤️

Tysm for your words. I´ve said it before and I will keep saying it: It is you guys who keep the thirst alive just as much with your lovely words of inspiration. ❤️

Also: Pls NEVER apologize for the length of your ask. That goes to all of you. I TAKE EM ALL. (The longer the better actually, and my thirsty ass is not ashamed to admit it.)

NOW, to your ask:

(Content warning: It´s gonna get rather steamy towards the end...)

(From left to right: Tanya, Irina, Kate)

I think that pretty much sums up their feelings on the matter, LMAO.

Like, they´ll be torn between being worried sick because their hooman is fragile and tiny and very much breakable, and what if you´ve seriously HURT yourself with such a reckless action-

...and other things. 😏

So, the first thing they´ll do is be right up in your face. And I mean it. Like, sticking their heads together as each of them fights to be the most in-your-face, their eyes scanning you from head to toe, hands squishing your face à la fishface only to run them all over you to make sure you´re not broken.

(They tend to get a smidge dramatic in such moments. Moments where there´s a possibility you´ve obtained a scratch, that is.)

It is only when they are 100% certain you´re unharmed that their fear turns into rage. And their attention turns to-

...Yeah, you better run. You whoever has dared to try and claim what has already been claimed. Trying to put your slimy hands on them, leading to this whole mess (you obtaining not a single scratch but could have, that is) in the first place.

Ohh...they´re pissed. So pissed they´re struggling not to show some actual teeth-

How the turns have tabled. Now it´s you who is all up in their faces, trying to calm them down by whispering sweet nothings, touching their faces, gently stroking their arms and chests and just anywhere you can reach. Not an easy feat, considering you have to start anew with the first one once you are through with the last, flitting back and forth the line like you´re trying to prevent pots from boiling over.

Once you´re certain this place (the club or wherever this takes place) isn´t about to become obliberated in vampiric rage, you turn around to tend to-

(Yes, it´s three of em f*ckers.)

You don´t shout. You don´t try to punch them again (mostly because you´ve just managed to calm your still very enraged mates...no need to tempt fate). You don´t even look mad or angry anymore - on the contrary.

You´re quiet, almost too quiet. Gazing at the three of them with an expression that is a dangerous mix between tediousness and vexation because all you´d wanted was a peaceful and fun night out with the ones you hold most dear. Was that really too much to ask??

In other words: You are thoroughly done with shit.

"I think it´s best you leave," you drawl, even going so far as to incline your head in the direction of the exit.

They remain rooted to the spot, uncertainty written all over their faces. You know exactly what´s running through their heads right now - you´ve been there, a long time ago. Torn between disbelief and astonishment as basic survival instincts tell them to run, and fast. As far as their feet would carry them because whatever is glaring daggers at them over your shoulders right now, something deep down their guts tells them it is not entirely human.

One of them opens his mouth regardless, no doubt to tell you that you can shove it with a bravado that´s more show than substance. Anything to appear bigger than he is, in that moment. You don´t know whether to feel pity or admiration for his bravery. Perhaps a bit of both.

Granted, this is a public establishment and they have every right to be here just like you do. But, at this point, you really fear for what might happen if they were to stay. You are doing them a favor, they just don´t realize it.

"...Now," you cut him off before he can get started, raising your eyebrows as your gaze darts between them, hoping your tone and expression - hidden from the shadows looming behind you - are enough to get the message across:

Turns out, it is enough.

They nearly trip over each other on their way out, drawing the curious gazes of other partygoers.

Good riddance...hopefully.

You turn back around to face your wives with a sigh, hoping you can all just pick up where you left off before those three buffoons made lewd advances towards your women, almost getting themselves extinguished in the process, those idiots-

...Only to find them already looking at you, their expressions quite...odd. They strangely resemble the very trio that just fled the establishment, saving their sorry asses from meeting a rather grim fate, no doubt. There is this mixture of disbelief and astonishment on their faces, sprinkled with...something else.

This feels like your very first meeting all over again.

"...What?" you ask when they simply continue to stare at you. You know vampires don´t have the same need for movement as humans do, unless it´s to catch their prey. But this is getting...awkward.

Then, finally-

Kate is the first to recover, her flabberghasted expression slowly morphing into a, quite literally, wolfish grin as she breaks formation and nearly floats over to you.

"Well, well, well," she drawls, her hands settling on her favorite spot to pull you closer, kneading the flesh she finds there. "Look at our little spitfire, making them all run with their tails between their legs like kicked puppies..."

You release a good-natured scoff at your wife´s silliness, about to correct her by pointing out it had very likely been their looming presence behind you that sent the trio running for the hills.

However, her lips press against yours in a wet kiss before you can do so.

Not that you´re complaining.

A sigh escapes you as you wholeheartedly return it, your hands coming to rest against her chest before wandering up to cradle her face as your embrace deepens in passion.

Things are about to spiral out of control, you can feel it. Kate always has that effect on you. Her daring nature is infectious, making you feel as if the rules and expectations of society apply to everyone but you, and if she were to take you right here, right on this floor, you would gladly-

Hands on your chest yank you away then, breaking the kiss you and Kate shared. Your back collides with a wall, the hands on your chest firmly pushing you against it before a different pair of lips finds your neck. They´re running up and down at a leisure pace, only stopping to press even closer - you feel something wet - before they continue. Then, the pressure of teeth clamping down-

Tanya.

"Now, now, sestra..." Kate´s voice grumbles through the haze, barely a whisper to you, before you feel hands settling on your backside again, squeezing as they try to pull you closer. "Sharing is caring..."

The other side of your neck is being attacked then, and all you´re able to do is crane your head back, offering yourself up like a sacrifice to the gods as each of them devours you in a way that is far from holy-

"Tsk..." Ice envelops your hand then, the chill touch chasing away most of the dense fog that had settled just about everywhere. "Trust the wolves not to leave a single crumb..."

It´s you who is floating now as Irina pulls you close, handling you with an urgency that is so different from her sisters´ as she demands her share. Hands come to rest against your backside again, but they don´t squeeze. Instead, they simply hold on, only tightening their grip to pull you closer before lifting you up until the only thing that remains grounded are the tips of your toes.

"What a delight you are, maličký..." A flowery fragrance wraps around you as your mate´s forehead comes to rest against yours. "Defending the honor of three poor maidens in distress..."

Nothing about your wives is even remotely maidenlike.

The thought makes you snort, which earns you a rather firm clap! on your bum before her lips silence the squeak that wanted to slip out just then.

"Hm...she was quite the sight, was she not?" Tanya´s hand runs up and down your back in a near soothing manner, a stark contrast to the forcefulness she displayed just moments before.

"I think some gratitude is in order..." Kate purrs from somewhere behind you as she draws closer, her heeled boots click-clacking on the hardwood floor. "What do you say, sisters? Shall we show our savior just how grateful we are...?"

After that, everything seems to blur together. You don´t know how you got there, but you´re home before you realize it. The bedroom door closes behind you, clothes fall, and you come to the conclusion that-

Who the fuck cares?

OR:

This is one of the very rare times where your wives don´t mind sharing you...

.

.

.

...So don´t be an idiot by questioning any of it.

So...

This got a lot steamier than I thought it was gonna be. But, somehow, I don´t think any of you are complaining... 😏

Things that have stoked the fire here:

Alibi (that song I swear)

Rhaenyra x Someone kissing (don´t wanna reveal too much in case any of you hasn´t seen it yet)

.

.

.

Right so, I think it´s safe to say that one should never approach a hooman and their three drop dead gorgeous yet very much capable of ending your existence vampire-wives on their Girls´ Night Out.

Just...don´t do it, resist the urge. You´ll thank me for it later.

OR:

You have the power of the (Un)holy Trinity at your hands, and ppl would do well to remember that...

Thanks a lot for your lovely ask! 💋💋💋

[daisychainsandbowties]

would lilith be much of a book reader? What kind of books would she read?

right so i think that Lilith has the adhd reader thing where YES she loves to read, NO she doesn’t read. actually she’s always reading twelve books at the same time; no she never finishes any of them.

like any really really intelligent person Lilith is hungry for knowledge, and like any child raised under the press of a thumb she’s willing to get that knowledge wherever she can. her brain is working against her a little but it’s also a beautiful creature because it wants knowledge, but all of it all the time all at once. 

i think she’s on wikipedia and in the NASA archives and on Project Gutenberg constantly. she will literally sit there on her phone for hours doing the fanfiction thing where she tricks her brain into thinking it’s not technically reading because there are no books involved.

she tab-hops like a madwoman but it’s a case of balancing her intense need for information with her brain’s unwillingness to tackle that information in a structured way. inside of ten minutes she’ll read a bit about the Riemann hypothesis, a couple paragraphs of a socratic dialogue, an archived forum page about siphoning gas with your mouth and what petroleum tastes like (keeps waking up with a weird sulfur taste in her mouth. keeps hoping to find some explanation other than ‘it tastes like devil in here’) but if you ask her what she reads she’ll scowl and say ‘nothing.’

but i mean this is the girl who used to sit with Beatrice for hours and just listen to her talk about Galileo and Langer's lines and how to debone a fish. who used to sit by the fire with her dad and listen to random bits of historical apocrypha and who requested Stephen Hawking’s A Brief History of Time as her bedtime story when she was three years old.

she definitely sits on her phone watching 6 hour videos about Dark Souls lore and she reads all the books in Skyrim because they’re like 300 words long and somehow staring at the TV and reading off there is easier than reading a physical book made of paper or reading on the kindle (even when Cam downloads dyslexia-friendly reading aids).

her brain likes to bounce off the walls but it wants to know things. so badly. i think audiobooks are good for her but she plays them at 2x speed so her brain has to kind of do cartwheels to keep up and it gives her the same feeling as listening to heavy metal while she goes and picks up heavy objects and puts them back down again in the gym.

i wrote about this a little before but the sound and texture and the saying of words is very appealing to Lilith. she loves the music of language so i think the only way she can read actual novels for any length of time is to read them aloud (as opposed to subvocating) because choosing where to put emphasis and just feeling the words in her body is enough to keep her suitably entertained (plus lilith post-canon is not a huge fan of silence. she spent a lot of time wandering around in the weird high-pressure hellscape of The Other Side looking for Mary and then Ava. so she treats Bea’s noise-cancelling headphones like they’re going to eat her and she enjoys white noise playlists and having music just playing in the background).

Lilith adores the puzzles that language can make. she actually loved poetry as a kid because it felt to her like she could memorise the poem and work it over in the horrible ‘no talking’ hours that her mother imposed. at night when she couldn’t sleep after her dad died she’d repeat the poems over and over and over again and slowly wring more meaning out of them with each repetition.

she likes when stories are puzzles and, incidentally, one of her favourite things to do is listen to an audiobook on 2x speed while doing sudoku or crosswords.

and Lilith will read anything. she’s not super into fantasy or sci-fi because she has fucking wings and scales and it’s a bit like ‘i’m in this picture and i don’t like it’ but she enjoys classics. has a weird soft spot for Moby Dick and she really likes post-apocalyptic books like The Road by Cormac McCarthy and Parable of the Sower and i think she quite enjoys The Hunger Games and the Wool series. she definitely loves The Broken Earth Trilogy because it somehow gets a free pass with her ‘i’m in this picture and i don’t like it’ hang-up. it does make her cry though (the hand scene really gets to her because sometimes her mother would hold her hand like that, like she wanted to smash it and see if it came back together without the dysgraphia).

but she also rlly likes plays because performance and by god Lilith is a drama queen. she would totally have been a theatre kid if she’d been allowed & she loves performing little monologues and she likes how people sound when they’re angry but in the context of a play because the anger is always under the control of the narrative, and you can stop being angry whenever you want. 

she loves collecting information so when Cam introduces her to Stardew Valley she sits up in bed all night reading wiki after wiki and making little spreadsheets on her excel app for which gifts to give and when and how many of each crop to plant and which trees to grow and where and how many chickens and how much hay and all the different fish and how to organise the layout of the farm. so by the next day Cam wakes up and Lilith has basically a bachelor’s degree in Stardew Valley

and Cam is like ‘oh my god Lily i got you this game so you would relax!’ and Lilith frowning in genuine confusion like ‘i am relaxing??’

she does sometimes just teleport into Bea and Ava’s house & look quite forlorn until Beatrice sits down with her at the island in the kitchen and the pair of them peel oranges.

Beatrice talks about whatever she’s reading about that week, and eventually Ava comes in and explains all the different strategies for winning at Super Smash Bros and her opinions on the objective best tracks in Mario Kart while Beatrice cooks burgers on the grill outside in her baseball cap like somebody’s hot lesbian dad.

& then Lilith checks her phone & pecks Beatrice on the cheek and teleports home in time for Cam to get back from the airport. she tries to make out like she spent the whole weekend very sad and very by herself but Cam is like ‘gimmie your hands’ and then ‘yeah, Lil. i can smell the orange peel.’ 

so i think Lilith is a big reader but it’s not for the sake of stories especially or narratives or for characters or anything it’s for stimulation and knowledge and the words themselves. she’s that meme about the boyfriend who sits eating a sausage with the wikipedia page titled ‘sausage’ open on her computer. she ricochets between subjects and has the most incredible visual recall you’ve ever seen.

probably has a photographic memory but will forget what you asked her to go look for halfway up the stairs. Ava sees her sitting on her phone for literal hours while they’re all at the beach and asks Cam what the hell Lilith is doing because she’s not on social media & Cam is like ‘oh yeah she’s addicted to stack exchange and wikipedia’ and Ava takes a moment, licks melted ice-cream off her knuckle and says ‘wow that’s kind of hot’ and Cam waggles her eyebrows and goes ‘yeah, i know.’ 

[hexpea]

Ch. 4 -A Mother's Intuition

"You're Toji Fushiguro," you barely managed to mumble out as the tall, dark stranger stood in front of you. 

He kept his grin as a response, hands still in his pockets as if he wasn't an intruder on private grounds. It hadn't even been a full day yet and your head was nearly on a stake. 

"Well, you need to leave. Now," you demanded, carefully putting Megumi in his crib since he had quieted down. 

"As true as that might be, I wonder who'll make me?" He leaned forward to better meet the height of your face, his eyes darted down to your body and then back to your eyes. You leaned backward slightly from his intrusion. In that same moment, you remembered how you were dressed, in your silk nightgown, and blood flushed to your cheeks. 

You had no idea what this man was capable of or why he was excommunicated in the first place, but you knew that he was dangerous. And his presence meant that you would be terminated if he was caught anywhere near Megumi. Whether that meant what you thought it did or not, you didn't want to find out.

"Listen," you nearly yelled in a whisper, this time making your presence known by leaning in toward him while he was the one to lean back, making sure to give him as much attitude as you could while remaining quiet, your heart still racing, "my job is on the line if you're here. I need this job so I can go home to my daughter. I don't want to be here and while I generally care what happens to Megumi as a baby, I care more about being with her. I'm not about to let some meat-head take that away from me."

Upon the mentioning of your daughter, Toji was taken aback for just a moment. You saw it in his eyes and then quickly flicker away. 

"So then we're on the same page," he chuckled and relaxed, rolling his eyes in the process then letting them settle on yours directly. 

"Same page?" You scoffed, looking him up and down in disbelief. "Hardly."

"Why do you think I'm here?" He answered simply, his emotions kept well in check. You stared at him as if to wait for him to continue. "I'm here to see my son."

You stood in silence, your heart softening only the slightest bit as you realized his intentions. You wanted so badly to continue banishing him, as if he'd listen, but something in your heart was telling you he ultimately meant no harm. 

"Why now?" You asked in a normal, quiet tone as you let your guard down just a smidge. 

"What do you mean?" He looked at you seriously. "I regularly do this type of thing, but he's usually still asleep when I come." 

You were shocked at his answer. You wondered if this was why the position of caretaker was vacant. What happened to the last one?  As you wondered, you watched quietly as the bulky man silently stepped over to the crib and kneel beside it. He rested his upper torso over the top bar, letting one of his arms also rest there while his other reached into the crib to gently caress Megumi's soft, little cheeks.  It was an unexpected image. This was the man you were consistently warned about? He looks vicious, but his actions say otherwise.

"So are you going to tattle?" Toji looked over at you, still resting over the crib bar with chin resting on the top of his hands. 

You again stared in silence. "I...need to think about it. I'm not trying to end up like the last one, wherever they are. Maybe there's a better way we can do this, with less sneaking around."

"Fine by me," he said while coming to a stand. "I'll be here again next week, same time. Let me know then. Otherwise, I plan on continuing my routine whether you're here or not." He pointed at you as if to guarantee. 

You gave a single, nervous nod as you watched him back out of the room through the shoji door where he had entered. Your heart, though it had relaxed a bit when you realized he was non-violent, had finally settled.  Just like that, your world had been turned upside down again. 

After Toji left, you tended to Megumi's needs and went back to bed. You, again, struggled to get back to sleep. 

The next day, you fell into the normal, scheduled routine that was assigned to you. In the mid-afternoon, while Megumi played in his Pack 'n Play, you and a few other attendants were working on drying the laundry. You were all outside, hanging the Zenin family's delicates on a thin wire with a clothespin. 

"So I have a few questions," you asked the attendant next to you as you continued the chore. 

"Mhm?" They responded, continuing their happy hum that they had been doing since starting the laundry. 

"What did Megumi's father do to get excommunicated?" You wondered carefully, hesitant to even ask considering it was sensitive information. 

The attendant sighed. "Well, it wasn't anything in particular. He just didn't have a cursed technique. In fact, he has quite the opposite. He has no cursed energy at all."

"Really? That was it?" You were surprised. They made this guy out to be the next Neo but it turned out he just wasn't special enough to stay in the family. 

"Well...he was just ostracized at first, kind of like a black sheep," they continued, making sure to keep their voice low. "He was still allowed on the grounds, he just wasn't given the Zenin treatment. But then he..." the attendant nearly stuttered, feeling as though they would be punished for even saying anything. You leaned your ear toward them expectantly, an expression on your face that begged them to continue. "They call him...The Sorcerer Killer," they whispered as quietly as they could.

"The Sorcerer Killer?" You repeated without any care of your volume. You were quickly hushed by the attendant, as if you were a child needing scolding. 

"Yes," they confirmed, "because he has no cursed energy that can be detected by sorcerers and his skills in martial arts, he is quite the fighter. He makes his money as an assassin, known for not questioning his clients as long as the pay's good." There it is, you thought, that was the answer you were looking for.

"I see," you nodded, feeling mostly satisfied with that description. Any more information said aloud could get you both into trouble. 

"Please don't tell me you've seen him," the attendant suddenly plead. "The first attendant hardly lasted a month...he keeps breaking in here. It's like he doesn't care if he's caught, and he certainly doesn't care what happens to people like us."

You quickly shook your head, hoping your usually awful lying was pulling through. "No, not at all. I was just curious. I am taking care of his baby after all. I figure it's important for me to know what I'm working with here." 

The attendant you were speaking with took a deep exhale and shook their head as they hung another shirt on the line. "Thank goodness, I hope he's gone for good. It's not like he cares about his son in the first place. He's the one who sold Megumi to the clan after his wife passed away."

"I'm sorry, did you just say sold?" You repeated. If that was the case, then who was the man who visited so tenderly in the middle of the night?

They nodded in response. "He's a man who enjoys his money." 

You remained silent, stunned at the conflicting information you received. You thought about his appearance the night before, a threatening stature but gentle nature. But he sold his child?! You wondered what his true intentions were. You had never been in such a compromised position, the future completely unknown.  If you were to take back your suggestion to Toji, what could be done to prevent his weekly visits? Should you really...tattle?

[crmsndragonwngss]

I've been thinking about this since I answered the ask about gifmaking a little while back, and I've been kind of unsettled about it since. Not because I don't like sharing my process, nothing could be further from the truth, but because I realized that that process isn't entirely accessible. So here I am again with an alternative way to make gifs that's infinitely easier, way more accessible, and just as valid as the other way. I wanna stress that. Anything you put time and effort into is valid and worthwhile. No time spent on doing something you enjoy is ever wasted, not least of all anything creative

That said, this method is considerably more limited. I made gifs this way for years before my brain was quite literally hijacked by an idea I could not get out of my head and I had to learn to do it the fancy way. I was also intensely annoyed at having to rely on my shitty internet to make gifs, and I probably would have made the switch at some point regardless just for that lol

I would also like to stress that this is not necessarily a tutorial any more than the other post was, it's simply a couple of resources and more or less how to use them. Like I said in the other post, never download and install anything to your device without doing your own due diligence first!

details under the cut

So first, you need to get the video. If you're on mobile, your device should have a screen recorder built in. Use that, and be sure to turn on Do Not Disturb so you don't accidentally capture any notifications! Once you've recorded your video, you can use your device's native editing ui to trim and crop the video and adjust color. If you want effects like slow motion, I like Splice on iOS. The big thing is that it doesn't watermark your videos, but it's also just a pretty good app overall for video editing. If you're willing to pay for it, it'll also allow you to make gifs right there in the app, but it's subscription based and the price is absolutely outrageous, so I don't recommend doing that when you could just use a free online converter

Which brings me to the next step: ezgif. You probably know this one, most everyone does, I think, but if you don't, here's the basic gist of it. Select Video to Gif and upload your video there. Be sure to trim it down to seven seconds or less, or else you'll never be able to get it down below 10mb. On the next page, change the size of the gif to 540xAUTO (for Tumblr), then change the frame rate to 20 or 25. More frames means a smoother gif, but it also means a bigger gif, so play around with it to see how the frame rate affects your gif. I don't think there's really a huge difference between 20 and 25, so 20 should be sufficient. If your gif is still too big, you can select optimize and try to compress it a little. The lowest compression level is 5, so start there and go up by fives until you're satisfied. If you get the gif below 10mb and it looks bad, then you should go back and trim your video length down further and try again. After that, simply save the gif to your device and upload it wherever!

PC is more or less the same, you just need to get a third party screen recorder. You can actually use ffmpeg to screen record if you'd like (I don't have the command line for that, however, and at that point, you should just go ahead and use yt-dlp instead to get a high quality video). If the command prompt is too much, you can just use a screen recorder app instead. I like 2-Click Screen Recorder. Again, you can actually use ffmpeg on that video to create frames and then upload those to ezgif, but if you'd still rather go from video to gif, then use CapCut or a similar video editing software to trim down your video to seven seconds or less. From there, the process with ezgif is exactly the same as it is on mobile

And there you have it! Easy mobile gifs! While I do really encourage you to try the "fancy" method of making gifs, this is still a great alternative, and you can make some pretty good gifs this way. Here are some of mine I made this way before I switched:

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

5. The First Draft: Just Write.

Finally—the notorious writing!

There’s no right or wrong way to write. I know there are countless guides on writing and outlining and whatnot and they absolutely do have merit, but since you’re just starting: just write. 

At this point, you’ve already done most of the things a more seasoned writer does more consciously: you developed your idea, you have your plot, and you more or less know where you’re going. That’s all you need, so let’s start writing. Honestly, don’t be shy—open a new document and write down what comes to your mind. You can worry about style and expertise later. For now, you just want to put your ideas into proper words and sentences and bring your plot together. You can start from the beginning and work your way down to the end, but nothing’s keeping you from starting wherever you like. Maybe you want to write that one scene you can visualise so clearly first, or start with the very last sentence of your fic. You can put all the pieces together later. Again: Do whatever works best for you! 

As you write you’ll run into issues. A scene might not quite work out or requires some more prelude. A sentence might sound weird. You might realise that your plot has holes. Don’t hang yourself up on these things—you can always solve those problems later. And then you’ll run into more issues, but you’ll solve those, too. Don’t worry about anything but writing for now—I’m actually proposing you be a little mindless here! In your first draft, you’re usually just dumping everything you have, so, naturally you’ll think it’s the Worst Thing That’s Ever Been Written, but it’s not. You made something from nothing and you will make that something into a Good Thing: a finished draft, a great story. The real magic happens when you revise your draft, sometimes over and over again. 

“But what if the words won’t come, Emi? And what if you’re wrong and I break every writing rule in existence?” You ask. 

I say: Fuck the rules. Fuck around and find out! Nobody’s gonna send you to writing prison (though, there might be some people who DO think they’re the writing police. But fuck them, too, honestly. Of course, there’s a huge difference between constructive criticism and policing you!).  

Maybe you’ve heard of the phrase “It was a dark and stormy night.”? It’s part of the opening line of a 19th-century novel, and people love to talk shit about it. This phrase is generally known to be a synonym for “bad writing” (especially bad fanfic writing, these days); it’s “too much tell, no show”—but we don’t care about that. “It was a dark and stormy night.” is a great phrase. You want to make words? Well, then give me words. Tell me everything. Tell me what colour the curtains were, and tell me exactly how that tree looked and how that character felt when they got incinerated by the “full, concentrated power of the sun”. The night was dark and stormy, you say? Cool. What else was it? What night are we talking about? Who was there? What did they do? Were they alright once morning came? 

If you don’t want to tell me, tell yourself, then….and oh, look at that! You filled another page with beautiful words. It doesn’t even matter if you don’t end up using all those words in your final draft (you won’t), but it matters that you wrote and got a feeling for them. It also matters that you can explain to me or—even better yet—yourself why those words were necessary, while others were not. That’s how you go from just writing to finding your style, what you like and what you don’t like. You’re the first reader of your story and it’s only natural to be your own worst critic but don’t let it get to your head. Writing is all about figuring things out—so keep asking your questions!

Now that you got down to writing, your questions will change. While you started out asking your ideas “What happens next and why?”, you’ll now ask yourself “Does this line sound good? Wait…does it even make sense? Oh, what if I found a different word for this?”—and that’s exactly where you want to be. See? You’re doing just fine!

Next: Art or Garbage?

Masterlist