#i want to post that first so that i can then continue to just. write about this game from a semi-casual and. i dunno

[studyinglogic]

[Continued from above]

Mistake 1: Asymmetrical Studying

Assuming you don't just want to do a single activity in a language, or are learning a language like ASL, a language requires 4 parts to be studied: Speaking, Listening, Writing, Reading. While these have overlap, you can't learn speaking from reading, or even learn speaking from just listening. One of my first Chinese teachers told me how he would listen to the textbook dialogues while he was biking to classes and it helped him. I took this information, thought "Yeah that's an idea, but sounds boring" and now regret not taking his advice nearly every day.

I think a lot of us find methods we enjoy to study (mine was reading) and assume that if we just do that method more ™ it will eventually help us in other areas (sometimes it does, but that's only sometimes). Find a method that works for you for each area of study, even better find more than one method since we use these skills in a variety of manners! I can understand a TV program pretty well since I have a lot of context clues and body language to fill in any gaps of understanding, but taking a phone call is much harder—the audio is rougher, there's no body language to read, and since most Chinese programs have hard coded subtitles, no subtitles to fall back on either. If I were to compare the number of hours I spent reading in Chinese to (actively) training my listening? Probably a ratio of 100 to 1. When I started to learn Korean, the first thing I did was find a variety of listening resources for my level.

Fix: Find a variety of study methods that challenge all aspects of the language in different ways.

A variety of methods will help you develop a more well-rounded level of mastery, and probably help you keep from getting bored. Which is important because...

Mistake 2: Inconsistent Studying

If there is one positive to a language app, it is the pressure it puts on keeping a streak. Making studying a part of your everyday routine is the best thing you can do. I benefited a lot from taking a college language course since I had a dedicated time to study and practice Chinese 5 days out of the week (and homework usually filled the other two). Memorization is a huge part of language learning, and stopping and starting is terrible for memorization. When I was in elementary school, we had Spanish maybe a couple times a month. Looking back, it seems like it was the first class to be cut if we needed to catch up on a more important course. Needless to say, I can't even speak Spanish at an elementary level.

However, I'm sure many people reading this don't have the time to do ultra-immersion 4-hour study sessions every day either. Find what days during the week you have time to focus on learning new vocab and grammar, and use the rest of the week to review. This can be done on your commute to school/work, while you do the dishes, or as a part of your morning/evening routine. Making this as realistic as possible will help you actually succeed in making this a habit. (Check this out for how to set realistic study goals)

Fix: Study regularly (ideally daily) by setting realistic goals. Avoid "binge" studying since remembering requires consistent repetition to be most effective.

Mistake 3: Resource Choice

This is really composed of two mistakes, but I have a good example that will cover them both.

First, finding resources that are at or slightly above your level is the most important thing. Easy resources will not challenge you enough and difficult resources will overwhelm you. The ideal is n+1, with n as what you know plus 1 new thing.

Second, getting distracted by fancy, new technology. Newer isn't always better, and there are often advantages that are lost when we've made technological developments. I often found myself wanting to try out new browser extensions or organizational methods and honestly I would've benefitted from just using that time to study. (Also, you're probably reading this because of my DL post so I don't think it has to be said that AI resources suck.)

A good example of this was my time using Clozemaster. I had actually recommended it when I first started using it since I thought the foundation was really solid. However, after long term use, I found that it just wasn't a good fit. The sentences were often too simple or too long and strange for memorization at higher levels or were too difficult at lower levels. I think that taking my textbook's example sentences from dialogues into something like Anki would've been a far better use of my time (and money) as they were already designed to be at that n+1 level.

Fix: "Vet" your resources—make sure they will actually help you. If something is working for you, then keep using it! You don't always have to upgrade to the newest tool/method.

Mistake 3.5: Classrooms and Textbooks

A .5 since it's not my mistake, but an addendum of caution. I think there is a significant part of the language learning community that views textbooks and classroom learning as the worst possible resource. They are "boring", "outdated", and "ineffective" (ironically one of the most interesting modern language learning methods, ALG, is only done in a classroom setting). Classrooms and textbooks bring back memories of being surrounded by mostly uninterested classmates, minimal priority, and a focus on grades rather than personal achievement (imagine the difference between a class of middle schoolers who were forced to choose a foreign language vs. adult learners who self-selected!) People have used these exact methods, or even "cruder" methods, to successfully learn a language. It all comes down to what works best for you. I specifically recommend textbooks for learning grammar and the plentiful number of dialogues and written passages that can function great as graded readers and listening resources. (Also the distinction made between "a youtube lesson on a grammatical principle" which is totally cool, and "a passage in a grammar textbook" is more one of tone and audio/written than efficacy).

Classrooms can be really great for speaking practice since they can be a lot less intimidating speaking to someone who is also learning while receiving corrections. Speech can be awkward to train on your own (not impossible if you're good at just talking aloud to yourself!), and classrooms can work nicely for this. Homework and class schedules also have built in accountability!

Fix: Explore resources available to you and try to think holistically about your approach. CI+Traditional Methods is my go to "Learning Cocktail"

Mistake 4: Yes, Immersion, But...

I realized this relatively quickly while learning Chinese, but immersion at a level much higher than your current level will do very little for you. What is sometimes left out of those "Just watch anime to learn Japanese" discussions is that you first need to have a chance at understanding what is being said. Choosing materials that are much higher than your level will not teach you the language. It doesn't matter how many times someone at HSK 1 hears “他是甘露之惠，我并无此水可还”, they will not get very far. Actual deduction and learning comes from having enough familiar components to be able to make deductions—something different than guessing. An HSK 1 learner, never having heard the word 老虎 will be able to understand "tiger" if someone says “这是我的老虎” while standing next to a tiger. This is not to say you can never try something more difficult—things should be challenging—but if you can't make heads or tails of what's being said, then it's time to find something a bit easier. If mistake 2 is about the type of method, this is about the level. If you wouldn't give a kindergartener The Great Gatsby to learn how to read, why would you watch Full Metal Alchemist to start learning a language?

Side note: Interesting video here on the Comprehensible Input hypothesis and how it relates to neurodivergence.

Fix: Immerse yourself in appropriate content for your level. It's called comprehensible input for a reason.

Mistake 5: On Translation

I work as a translator, so do you really think I'm going to say translation is all bad? Of course not. It's a separate skill that can be added on to the basic skills, but is really only required if you are A. someone who is an intermediary between two languages (say you have to translate for a spouse or family member) or B. It is your job/hobby. In the context of sitting down and learning, it can be harmful. I think my brain often goes to translation too often because that's how I used to learn. Trying to unlearn that is difficult because, well, what do people even mean when they say "don't translate"? They mean when someone says "thank you", you should not go to your primary language and translate "you're welcome" from that. You should train yourself to go to your target language first when you hear the word for "thank you". A very literally translated "thank you" in Chinese "谢谢你" can come off as cold and sarcastic. I don't tell my friends that, I say "谢啦～". Direct translation can take away the difference in culture, grammar, and politeness in a language. If there is a reason you sound awkward while writing and speaking, it's probably because you're imposing your primary language on your target language.

Fix: Try as hard as you can to not work from your primary language into the target language, but to work from the structures, set phrases, and grammar within the target language that you know first.

Mistake 6: The Secret Language Learners Don't Want You To Know...

...is that there is no one easy method. You are not going to learn French while you sleep, or master Korean by doing this one easy trick. Learning a language requires work and dedication, the people that succeed are those that push through the boredom of repetition and failure. The "I learned X in 1 year/month/week/day!" crowd is hiding large asterisks, be it their actual level, the assistance and free time available to them, "well actually I had already studied this for 4 years", or just straight-up lying. Our own journeys in our native tongue were not easy, they required years and years of constant immersion and instruction. While we are now older and wiser people that can make quick connections, we are also burdened with things like "jobs", "house work", "school work", and the digital black hole that is "social media" that take up our time and energy. Everything above is to help make this journey a little bit easier, quicker, and painless, but it will never be magic.

I find that language learning has a lot in common with the fitness community. People will talk about the workout that changed their life and how no other one will do the same—and it really can be the truth that it changed their life and that they feel it is the ultimate way. The real workout that will change your life is the one you're most consistent with, that you enjoy the most. Language learning is just trying to find the brain exercise that you can be the most consistent with.

Fix: Save your energy looking for shortcuts, and do the work, fail, and come back for more. If someone tells you that you can become fluent in a ridiculously short amount of time, they are selling you a fantasy (and likely a product). You get out what you put in.

For those that made it to the end, here are some of my "universal resources":

Refold Method: I don't agree with their actual method 100%, but they've collected a lot of great resources for learning languages. I've found their Chinese and Korean discords to also be really helpful and provided even more resources than what's given in their starter guides.

Language Reactor: Very useful, and have recently added podcasts as a material! The free version is honestly all you need.

Anki: If I do not mention it, the people with 4+ year streaks with a 5K word deck will not let me forget it. It can be used on desktop or on your phone as an app. If you need a replacement for a language learning app, this is one of them. Justin Sung has a lot of great info on how to best utilize Anki (as does Refold). It's not my favorite, but it could be yours!

LingQ: "But I thought you said language apps are bad!" In isolation, yes. Sorry for the clickbait. This one is pretty good, and more interested in immersing you in the language than selling a subscription to allow you to freeze your streak so the number goes up.

Grammar Textbooks: For self-taught learning, these are going to be the best resource since it's focused on the hardest part of the language, and only that. If you're tired of seeing group work activities, look for a textbook that is just on grammar (Modern Mandarin Chinese Grammar is my rec for Chinese, and A Guide to Japanese Grammar by Tae Kim is the most common/enthusiastic rec I've heard for Japanese).

Shadowing: Simply repeat what you hear. Matt vs Japan talks about his setup here for optimized shadowing (which you can probably build for a lot cheaper now), but it can also just be you watching a video and pausing to repeat after each sentence or near simultaneously if you're able.

Youtube: Be it "Short Story for Beginners", "How to use X", "250 Essential Phrases", or a GRWM in your target language, Youtube is the best. Sometimes you have to dig to find what works for you, but I imagine there is something for everyone at every level. (Pro tip: People upload textbook audio dialogues often, you don't even have to buy the textbook to be able to learn from it!)

A Friend: Be it a fellow learner, or someone who has already mastered the language, it is easier when you have someone, not only to speak to, but to remind you why you're doing this. I write far more in Chinese because I have friends I can text in Chinese.

Pen and Paper: Study after study, writing on paper continues to be the best method for memorization. Typing or using a pen and tablet still can't compare to traditional methods.

The Replies (Probably): Lots of people were happy to give alternatives for specific languages in the replies of my DL post. The community here is pretty active, so if this post blows up at least 20% of what the last one did, you might be able to find some great stuff in the replies and reblogs.

I wish you all the best~

Language Apps Suck, Now What?: A Guide to Actually Becoming "Fluent"

The much requested sequel to my DL post that was promised almost a year ago.

I'm going to address all of the techniques that have helped me in my language learning journeys. Since 95% of these came from the fact that in a past language learning mistake, they are titled as my mistakes (and how I would/did things differently going forward). For those that read to the bottom there is a "best universal resources" list.

Disclaimers:

"Fluency" is hard to define and everyone has their own goals. So for the purpose of this post, "fluency" will be defined as "your personal mastery target of the language".

If you just want to pick up a bit of a language to not sound like a total foreigner on vacation or just exchange a few words in a friend's native language, feel free to ignore what doesn't apply, but maybe something here could help make it a little easier.

This is based on my own personal experience and (some) research.

Mistake 1: Asymmetrical Studying

Assuming you don't just want to do a single activity in a language, or are learning a language like ASL, a language requires 4 parts to be studied: Speaking, Listening, Writing, Reading. While these have overlap, you can't learn speaking from reading, or even learn speaking from just listening. One of my first Chinese teachers told me how he would listen to the textbook dialogues while he was biking to classes and it helped him. I took this information, thought "Yeah that's an idea, but sounds boring" and now regret not taking his advice nearly every day.

I think a lot of us find methods we enjoy to study (mine was reading) and assume that if we just do that method more ™ it will eventually help us in other areas (sometimes it does, but that's only sometimes). Find a method that works for you for each area of study, even better find more than one method since we use these skills in a variety of manners! I can understand a TV program pretty well since I have a lot of context clues and body language to fill in any gaps of understanding, but taking a phone call is much harder—the audio is rougher, there's no body language to read, and since most Chinese programs have hard coded subtitles, no subtitles to fall back on either. If I were to compare the number of hours I spent reading in Chinese to (actively) training my listening? Probably a ratio of 100 to 1. When I started to learn Korean, the first thing I did was find a variety of listening resources for my level.

Fix: Find a variety of study methods that challenge all aspects of the language in different ways.

A variety of methods will help you develop a more well-rounded level of mastery, and probably help you keep from getting bored. Which is important because...

Mistake 2: Inconsistent Studying

If there is one positive to a language app, it is the pressure it puts on keeping a streak. Making studying a part of your everyday routine is the best thing you can do. I benefited a lot from taking a college language course since I had a dedicated time to study and practice Chinese 5 days out of the week (and homework usually filled the other two). Memorization is a huge part of language learning, and stopping and starting is terrible for memorization. When I was in elementary school, we had Spanish maybe a couple times a month. Looking back, it seems like it was the first class to be cut if we needed to catch up on a more important course. Needless to say, I can't even speak Spanish at an elementary level.

However, I'm sure many people reading this don't have the time to do ultra-immersion 4-hour study sessions every day either. Find what days during the week you have time to focus on learning new vocab and grammar, and use the rest of the week to review. This can be done on your commute to school/work, while you do the dishes, or as a part of your morning/evening routine. Making this as realistic as possible will help you actually succeed in making this a habit. (Check this out for how to set realistic study goals)

Fix: Study regularly (ideally daily) by setting realistic goals. Avoid "binge" studying since remembering requires consistent repetition to be most effective.

Mistake 3: Resource Choice

This is really composed of two mistakes, but I have a good example that will cover them both.

First, finding resources that are at or slightly above your level is the most important thing. Easy resources will not challenge you enough and difficult resources will overwhelm you. The ideal is n+1, with n as what you know plus 1 new thing.

Second, getting distracted by fancy, new technology. Newer isn't always better, and there are often advantages that are lost when we've made technological developments. I often found myself wanting to try out new browser extensions or organizational methods and honestly I would've benefitted from just using that time to study. (Also, you're probably reading this because of my DL post so I don't think it has to be said that AI resources suck.)

A good example of this was my time using Clozemaster. I had actually recommended it when I first started using it since I thought the foundation was really solid. However, after long term use, I found that it just wasn't a good fit. The sentences were often too simple or too long and strange for memorization at higher levels or were too difficult at lower levels. I think that taking my textbook's example sentences from dialogues into something like Anki would've been a far better use of my time (and money) as they were already designed to be at that n+1 level.

Fix: "Vet" your resources—make sure they will actually help you. If something is working for you, then keep using it! You don't always have to upgrade to the newest tool/method.

Mistake 3.5: Classrooms and Textbooks

A .5 since it's not my mistake, but an addendum of caution. I think there is a significant part of the language learning community that views textbooks and classroom learning as the worst possible resource. They are "boring", "outdated", and "ineffective" (ironically one of the most interesting modern language learning methods, ALG, is only done in a classroom setting). Classrooms and textbooks bring back memories of being surrounded by mostly uninterested classmates, minimal priority, and a focus on grades rather than personal achievement (imagine the difference between a class of middle schoolers who were forced to choose a foreign language vs. adult learners who self-selected!) People have used these exact methods, or even "cruder" methods, to successfully learn a language. It all comes down to what works best for you. I specifically recommend textbooks for learning grammar and the plentiful number of dialogues and written passages that can function great as graded readers and listening resources. (Also the distinction made between "a youtube lesson on a grammatical principle" which is totally cool, and "a passage in a grammar textbook" is more one of tone and audio/written than efficacy).

Classrooms can be really great for speaking practice since they can be a lot less intimidating speaking to someone who is also learning while receiving corrections. Speech can be awkward to train on your own (not impossible if you're good at just talking aloud to yourself!), and classrooms can work nicely for this. Homework and class schedules also have built in accountability!

Fix: Explore resources available to you and try to think holistically about your approach. CI+Traditional Methods is my go to "Learning Cocktail"

Mistake 4: Yes, Immersion, But...

I realized this relatively quickly while learning Chinese, but immersion at a level much higher than your current level will do very little for you. What is sometimes left out of those "Just watch anime to learn Japanese" discussions is that you first need to have a chance at understanding what is being said. Choosing materials that are much higher than your level will not teach you the language. It doesn't matter how many times someone at HSK 1 hears “他是甘露之惠，我并无此水可还”, they will not get very far. Actual deduction and learning comes from having enough familiar components to be able to make deductions—something different than guessing. An HSK 1 learner, never having heard the word 老虎 will be able to understand "tiger" if someone says “这是我的老虎” while standing next to a tiger. This is not to say you can never try something more difficult—things should be challenging—but if you can't make heads or tails of what's being said, then it's time to find something a bit easier. If mistake 2 is about the type of method, this is about the level. If you wouldn't give a kindergartener The Great Gatsby to learn how to read, why would you watch Full Metal Alchemist to start learning a language?

Side note: Interesting video here on the Comprehensible Input hypothesis and how it relates to neurodivergence.

Fix: Immerse yourself in appropriate content for your level. It's called comprehensible input for a reason.

Mistake 5: On Translation

I work as a translator, so do you really think I'm going to say translation is all bad? Of course not. It's a separate skill that can be added on to the basic skills, but is really only required if you are A. someone who is an intermediary between two languages (say you have to translate for a spouse or family member) or B. It is your job/hobby. In the context of sitting down and learning, it can be harmful. I think my brain often goes to translation too often because that's how I used to learn. Trying to unlearn that is difficult because, well, what do people even mean when they say "don't translate"? They mean when someone says "thank you", you should not go to your primary language and translate "you're welcome" from that. You should train yourself to go to your target language first when you hear the word for "thank you". A very literally translated "thank you" in Chinese "谢谢你" can come off as cold and sarcastic. I don't tell my friends that, I say "谢啦～". Direct translation can take away the difference in culture, grammar, and politeness in a language. If there is a reason you sound awkward while writing and speaking, it's probably because you're imposing your primary language on your target language.

Fix: Try as hard as you can to not work from your primary language into the target language, but to work from the structures, set phrases, and grammar within the target language that you know first.

Mistake 6: The Secret Language Learners Don't Want You To Know...

...is that there is no one easy method. You are not going to learn French while you sleep, or master Korean by doing this one easy trick. Learning a language requires work and dedication, the people that succeed are those that push through the boredom of repetition and failure. The "I learned X in 1 year/month/week/day!" crowd is hiding large asterisks, be it their actual level, the assistance and free time available to them, "well actually I had already studied this for 4 years", or just straight-up lying. Our own journeys in our native tongue were not easy, they required years and years of constant immersion and instruction. While we are now older and wiser people that can make quick connections, we are also burdened with things like "jobs", "house work", "school work", and the digital black hole that is "social media" that take up our time and energy. Everything above is to help make this journey a little bit easier, quicker, and painless, but it will never be magic.

I find that language learning has a lot in common with the fitness community. People will talk about the workout that changed their life and how no other one will do the same—and it really can be the truth that it changed their life and that they feel it is the ultimate way. The real workout that will change your life is the one you're most consistent with, that you enjoy the most. Language learning is just trying to find the brain exercise that you can be the most consistent with.

Fix: Save your energy looking for shortcuts, and do the work, fail, and come back for more. If someone tells you that you can become fluent in a ridiculously short amount of time, they are selling you a fantasy (and likely a product). You get out what you put in.

For those that made it to the end, here are some of my "universal resources":

Refold Method: I don't agree with their actual method 100%, but they've collected a lot of great resources for learning languages. I've found their Chinese and Korean discords to also be really helpful and provided even more resources than what's given in their starter guides.

Language Reactor: Very useful, and have recently added podcasts as a material! The free version is honestly all you need.

Anki: If I do not mention it, the people with 4+ year streaks with a 5K word deck will not let me forget it. It can be used on desktop or on your phone as an app. If you need a replacement for a language learning app, this is one of them. Justin Sung has a lot of great info on how to best utilize Anki (as does Refold). It's not my favorite, but it could be yours!

LingQ: "But I thought you said language apps are bad!" In isolation, yes. Sorry for the clickbait. This one is pretty good, and more interested in immersing you in the language than selling a subscription to allow you to freeze your streak so the number goes up.

Grammar Textbooks: For self-taught learning, these are going to be the best resource since it's focused on the hardest part of the language, and only that. If you're tired of seeing group work activities, look for a textbook that is just on grammar (Modern Mandarin Chinese Grammar is my rec for Chinese, and A Guide to Japanese Grammar by Tae Kim is the most common/enthusiastic rec I've heard for Japanese).

Shadowing: Simply repeat what you hear. Matt vs Japan talks about his setup here for optimized shadowing (which you can probably build for a lot cheaper now), but it can also just be you watching a video and pausing to repeat after each sentence or near simultaneously if you're able.

Youtube: Be it "Short Story for Beginners", "How to use X", "250 Essential Phrases", or a GRWM in your target language, Youtube is the best. Sometimes you have to dig to find what works for you, but I imagine there is something for everyone at every level. (Pro tip: People upload textbook audio dialogues often, you don't even have to buy the textbook to be able to learn from it!)

A Friend: Be it a fellow learner, or someone who has already mastered the language, it is easier when you have someone, not only to speak to, but to remind you why you're doing this. I write far more in Chinese because I have friends I can text in Chinese.

Pen and Paper: Study after study, writing on paper continues to be the best method for memorization. Typing or using a pen and tablet still can't compare to traditional methods.

The Replies (Probably): Lots of people were happy to give alternatives for specific languages in the replies of my DL post. The community here is pretty active, so if this post blows up at least 20% of what the last one did, you might be able to find some great stuff in the replies and reblogs.

I wish you all the best~

[rafedarling]

Can you write a moment of an interview with Jimmy Kimmel asks Drew one or two questions about his relationship since him and actress!y/n have confirmed that they are together on an instagram post (that they are currently this year in a relationship according to the rumor of Internet users and media) and Drew mentions actress!y/n abt how she's amazing, that he will love to work with her one day :)

since i already wrote one for drew at jimmy, i think i should put them both on the norton show. hope you like it!

𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧

pairing: drew starkey x actress!reader

summary: you and drew are invited to the graham norton show to promote your upcoming movie, set to release in april. however, the interview isn’t just about your movie, it also touches on your recently confirmed relationship, sending the audience into a frenzy.

warning(s): english is not my native language. fluff, playful teasing, past pining, and drew being the sweetest boyfriend ever.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. ⭐️ taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy @winniemoe @emberaurora @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore @issabellec7

marie’s note: i just opened my wattpad account! from now on, you can read my fanfics on both tumblr and wattpad. however, i can’t guarantee that i’ll be very active on wattpad. a little update on my upcoming work, i’m currently working on the return of superman mini-series!

Graham grinned, waiting for the applause to settle before dramatically placing a hand over his chest.

“Alright, alright,” he said, pretending to catch his breath.

“Let me sit down first because I simply cannot stand here and do an interview with such a powerful couple.”

The audience laughed, and you shook your head in amusement. Drew leaned back, his arm resting casually behind you on the couch, a smirk playing on his lips.

“So,” Graham continued, eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Not only are you both co-stars in your new movie, but also lovers off-screen. Is it true?”

The crowd went wild again.

Drew chuckled, shaking his head at the dramatic reaction.

“Yes,” he confirmed, his Southern drawl making the words sound even more charming.

“We are lovers off-screen.”

Graham leaned forward, clearly loving every second of it.

“Since you’ve already confirmed it on Instagram, let’s dive in a little. How did this all start? Y/N, do you want to take this one?”

“Sure,” you said with a smile.

“I actually met Drew through his sister, Brooke. I was in her friend group, and she invited me over to her new place once. That was the first time we met.”

Drew nodded.

“Yeah, Y/N was one of my sister’s friends, but after that, she kind of disappeared. We didn’t see each other again for a long time, maybe a year or so.”

“Ah, so was there an instant connection? Or did it take a little while to realize, ‘Oh, that’s the person I want to know more about’?”

Graham asked, clearly invested.

Drew turned to you with a teasing smirk.

“If we’re talking about our first meeting… I didn’t have feelings for her then.”

The audience gasped dramatically, and you burst into laughter.

“Hold on, hold on before you boo me!”

Drew added quickly, grinning.

“At the time, I was crushing on someone else. But when I met Y/N again later, it hit me hard. Like — why hadn’t I asked her out before? What was I doing?”

Graham gasped, clutching his chest for comedic effect.

“Scandalous!”

“I know, right?” you joked.

“Plot twist, I actually liked him from the very beginning.”

Drew’s head snapped toward you, eyes wide.

“Wait, what?”

Graham looked like he had just struck gold.

“Oh, this is juicy. Tell us more!”

You chuckled, shrugging.

“Yeah, I had feelings for him when we first met, but I knew he had a crush on someone else, so I just… kept quiet about it. I liked him so much that I couldn’t even date other guys.”

Graham covered his face, laughing so hard he had to lean back in his chair. The audience reacted with a mix of cheers and sympathetic awws.

“Wait, wait, wait… hold on,”

Drew said, pointing at you in shock.

“You never told me this!”

“I know,” you said, giggling.

“I guess I thought it was silly.”

“Silly?” Drew looked at Graham, then back at you.

“Babe, I feel like I need to apologize to past you.”

Graham wiped away imaginary tears.

“Oh, this is the kind of romantic drama I live for!”

Drew shook his head, smiling.

“I can’t believe you were out there suffering in silence while I was being an idiot.”

“It’s fine,” you teased. “You figured it out eventually.”

The audience burst into applause, and Graham clapped his hands together.

“Well, I think I speak for everyone when I say, thank goodness you did! Now, Drew, if given the chance, would you want to work on-screen with Y/N again?”

Drew didn’t hesitate.

“Oh, absolutely. She’s amazing; such a talented actress. I’d love to work with her again.”

You turned to him, surprised and touched by his words.

“Really?”

“Of course,” he said softly.

“I mean, I get to see how incredible you are off-screen, so getting to experience that on-screen again? That’d be a dream.”

The audience erupted into cheers again, and Graham dramatically fanned himself.

“Well, if you two ever do another movie together, let’s hope it’s a rom-com, because this kind of chemistry needs to be on display!”

Drew laughed, slipping his hand into yours.

“We’ll see what happens.”

Graham then leaned forward, eyes twinkling with curiosity.

“And Drew, since we’re on the topic, what has it been like dating Y/N? Fans are dying to know how you feel about it.”

Drew’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, and for a moment, he looked at you instead of Graham. The teasing smile softened into something more sincere.

“It’s honestly the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he admitted.

The audience collectively sighed in adoration.

“I know that sounds dramatic, but it’s true. Y/N is just… she’s amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who balances me out the way she does. She’s the most patient, kind, and ridiculously talented person I know.”

You felt your heart swell at his words, heat creeping up your cheeks.

Graham pretended to wipe away tears.

“Oh, this is too sweet. Keep going!”

Drew laughed but continued.

“She makes everything feel easier. My life gets pretty crazy, you know? Between filming, traveling, press there’s a lot going on. But with her, it’s like… I always have this anchor. Someone who keeps me grounded. And the best part? She never tries to change me. She just lets me be me.”

The audience let out a chorus of “Aww!” and you squeezed his hand, feeling overwhelmed by how openly he was speaking.

“Okay, this is getting too romantic for me,”

Graham joked, fanning himself.

“I feel like we’re intruding on a private moment!”

Drew chuckled, looking back at you with a grin.

“Well, you asked, man.”

Graham shook his head playfully.

“I did, and I’m so glad I did! You two are adorable.”

The interview wrapped up soon after, but that moment the way Drew looked at you, the way his words made your heart feel like it might burst, was already making waves across the internet. Fans were calling you the Hollywood couple of the year. And honestly? You didn’t mind one bit.

[hamzaheaven]

High fic with hamzah?

a/n: writing this fried as fuck so it only seemed right xxxx thank u for the req :’) also first time posting smut im terrified (its written in the way i enjoy smut so no vulgar words, moreso descriptions i guess?? idk pls im ashamed lowkey.) and its long as hell ok ill stop apologising now. sorry

tags: friends to lovers, tension.

warnings: weed smoking, dry humping.

NSFW <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

you feel your eyes strain slightly as the smoke spills from between your lips, your gaze focused mindlessly on the orange tip of the joint. you’re sitting on Hamzah’s bed, your back resting against his headboard. you and him had been friends for a while now, but it was starting to become harder for the both of you to ignore the blatant attraction and tension that lingered between you. the suggestive tones curling around every word, the glances that last a little too long. it was evident in everything, but you both seem to keep skirting around it. tonight, it feels heavier. hamzah had called you earlier, his voice laced with something softer than usual, asking if you wanted to come over and smoke. you didn’t hesitate. now, the two of you exist in easy silence. 

hazily, your attention drifts across the room. Hamzah is sitting in his desk chair, hunched over slightly as he edits a video on his computer. the screen is the only strong illumination in the otherwise dark room, the blue-ish light reflecting off the glasses on his face. your chest rises and falls slowly as you watch him, your eyes flicking across his back. his jaw clenches and unclenches in focus, his fingers moving over his mouse mindlessly. 

as if he notices your dwelling gaze, he turns his head over his shoulder to look back at you. another moment of comfortable, wordless silence passes as you simply stare at him, a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. 

“what?” he quietly asks, the ghost of a chuckle laced within the simple question. even from behind his glasses, you can tell his eyes have turned a little red, too, like your own. 

you blink your eyes slowly, sparking the lighter in your hand a couple of times before shaking your head and shrugging. “nothing,” you mumble back, looking down at the lighter for a moment before back up to him. “admiring my view,” you add, your tone a little unserious as you sit up slightly. 

he immediately returns his attention back to his screen, humorously shaking his head in disapproval. the sound of his mouse clicking is echoing throughout the silence once more. “don’t say that,” he stoically says, “ew,” he adds, but you are quick to catch the tiny twitch of a grin tugging at one corner of his mouth.

you can’t help but puff out a laugh, knowing how quickly he cringes at comments like that. silently, you relight the joint, your throat and lungs contracting slightly as you inhale. “you almost done?” you ask, your voice soft as the smoke billows out along with your words. 

he doesn’t respond immediately, humming instead. “yeah, just need to-” he starts, cutting himself off as he clicks around on his screen before continuing his sentence, “cut these clips a bit more…” 

a slightly dramatic sigh falls from your lips as you place the joint on the ashtray on his bedside table. “well, you better hurry up, or there won’t be anything left for you to smoke,” you reply, your words carrying a teasingly taunting tone. 

he clicks his tongue in response, still keeping his eyes focused on the screen. “don’t you dare,” he mumbles, his mouse now moving faster across his computer as you amusedly continue to watch. he takes another five agonisingly long minutes to finish up, turning his monitor off before sliding the desk chair back and getting up. in the now mostly dark room, he stretches, his bones crackling a little, a soft groan eliciting from his throat. you look up at him through half-lidded eyes, the same sheepish grin still on your face as he sluggishly pads over to the bed. “scoot,” he mumbles, scratching his hair and waving his hand for you to move to the other side of his bed. 

you do as he says, moving over to make room for him, your movements a little slower and heavier than usual. the mattress dips beside you, his body plopping down on where you had previously been sitting. a deep exhale passes through his lips as he sinks deeper against the pillows, shifting to get more comfortable. your eyes feel heavy as they seem glued to him, tentatively watching his every move. his fingers reach for the joint resting on the ashtray, taking off his glasses with his other hand. he looks at the joint for a second, before sparking the lighter, the orange flame illuminating his face in the dark room. you swallow sharply, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and lolling your head back gently against the headboard. hamzah’s yet to notice your shameless staring as he takes a long drag, inhaling before the smoke billows back out of his nose and parted lips. finally, he turns his head your way, catching your gaze as it was already on him. he mirrors your movements, resting his head on the headboard as well. 

the atmosphere in the room feels a little loaded, the tension between him and you almost palpable in the air, the effects of the marijuana only intensifying it. neither of you look away. his gaze flickers down for a second—just barely. it’s quick, but you catch it. the subtle drop of his eyes, lingering just a second too long on your lips before they snap back up to meet yours.

inhaling sharply, you move a little closer, teasingly placing your hand on his upper thigh as you lean over him, reaching for the joint he had laid back on the ashtray. he flexes the muscles in his thighs in reaction to your touch. your head feels fuzzy, your eyelids strained as you relight the tip, staying in place instead of moving back to your previous spot on the bed. the smoke passes through your parted lips, the taste of the green plant lingering in your mouth before you turn to look at Hamzah. 

his head is lolled back against the headboard as he watches you through low eyes, a lopsided grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. he shifts slightly as you keep your hand on his thigh, leaning on him to prop yourself up a little as you turn your body towards him fully. with your blood-shot eyes, you keep them locked onto his own, taking another drag before tentatively leaning closer. he watches with anticipation as you stop inches in front of his face, blowing the smoke against his parted lips teasingly. you flip the joint around in your fingers for him to wrap his lips around the end, but he doesn’t react for a moment. he seems to contemplate something, his chest rising and falling slowly as he blinks at you. 

wordlessly, he gently moves your hand away from his face, taking the joint from between your fingers and placing it on the ashtray. “c’mere,” he then mumbles, shortly nudging his chin upwards. his hand gently traces up your arm and into the crook of your neck, his fingers lacing in the hair at the back of your neck. you feel your chest flutter slightly at his soft command, watching gingerly as he tugs your face closer to his. 

teasingly, he ghosts his parted lips against yours, grinning to himself. he juts out his bottom lip a little, an airy exhale rolling off your tongue as it touches your mouth. you move your head to the other side, trying to find a way around his teasing, but he doesn’t immediately let up. instead, he removes his thumb from the back of your neck, carefully tracing it along your jawline until it reaches your bottom lip. he pads the finger across the soft, slightly damp skin. you can’t help but stifle a sigh, placing your other hand on his chest gently. a little frustratedly, you curl your fingers into the fabric of his shirt. 

he notices your frustrated gesture, biting back a light chuckle. his free hand tugs on your thigh, guiding your body to straddle his lap with heavy and slow movements. he exhales against your parted lips once more, teasing the tightened tether of tension carelessly once more before finally giving in. 

your hands slide up to his neck, your spine arching slightly as he gently presses his lips against yours. the dense haze in your head lifts just a little at the feeling, the hand that isn’t curled into the hair at the back of your head moving up your thigh and under your shirt. you inhale sharply against his mouth at his rather cold fingers stretching across the warm skin of your bare back. he applies a gentle pressure, pushing you down onto him a little. his eyebrows furrow, his heavy eyes fluttering shut at the friction. in response, you gently dig your nails into the back of his head. shivers continue to roll down your spine as he keeps his cold hand there, absentmindedly guiding the way you’re moving. 

you pull a hand through your hair, moving it out of the way, never breaking the kiss. something about the effects of the weed seems to make every touch, sound and move feel like a breathtaking bliss. a low, soft exhale tumbles from his throat, strangling into a whiny, barely audible moan. “fuck,” he curses against your lips when you roll your hips, just barely, experimentally, and a sharp inhale cuts through the space between you.

his fingers dig into your waist like he’s attempting to ground himself. his breath shudders as your hips roll over him again. his head falls back against the headboard with a quiet, broken sound—something between a sigh and a whimper. you can feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles go taut beneath your hands, the way his grip on you wavers between restraint and desperation.

“f-fuck,” he repeats, his voice thin and unsteady. he’s already unraveling, his chest rising and falling faster as his hands twitch against your skin. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this—so quickly undone, so easily wrecked just by the slow grind of your hips, the teasing drag of your fingers up his chest. 

you curl your spine slightly, leaning down as your lips ghost over his jaw, trailing down to the side of his neck, where you press a single, deliberate kiss to the warm skin just below his ear. his whole body tenses beneath you, a shaky, barely-contained whimper tumbling from his lips. 

“please–,” he starts, but he can’t seem to finish the sentence. his hands flex on your waist, his eyebrows furrowing deeper, his voice soft and whiny. 

you hum against his neck, the vibration making him shiver. “please, what? hm?” you murmur, your lips brushing against his pulse point, pressing a deep kiss there. 

he swallows hard, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. “don’t… don’t stop,” he stammers, his voice catching on the words. His fingers twitch against your skin, restless, desperate, barely able to even guide your movements anymore. 

you pull back just enough to look at him, your gaze flickering over his face. his lips are parted, slightly swollen from how hard he’s been biting down on them in an attempt to be quieter. his pupils are blown wide, a deep furrow in his eyebrows. he looks wrecked already, and you’ve barely even touched him.

you tilt your head slightly as you listen to his quiet plea, making the coil in your lower abdomen tighten. your fingers tentatively trace the hem of his shirt before slipping beneath the fabric, dragging your nails lightly up his stomach. his breath stutters at the touch, and when you press them down slightly, just enough to make him feel it, he lets out a high, needy whimper. 

his hands shoot up, gripping your wrists like he’s trying to stop you—but his hold is weak, like he doesn’t actually want you to stop. “wait… wait,” he tries, his voice barely above a whisper, breathy and shaking, giving away he doesn’t want to cum so quick. his head tilts back, his eyes fluttering shut. his chest is heaving as you curiously halt your movements. 

you lean in again, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to his collarbone. “you’re so sensitive,” you murmur against his skin, and the way his breath catches, the way his thighs flex beneath you, tells you everything you need to know. you gently continue moving, bringing back the friction that was making him writhe underneath you. his taut muscles immediately melt again under your body, a whiny exhale falling from his parted lips. 

“y/n–...” he tries to speak, but your name is quick to die in his throat when you grind against him again, slower this time, more deliberate. his hands clench and unclench at your sides, his breathing turning into short, hitched gasps. his voice wavers, and then he lets out a soft, whiny moan that makes your pulse spike. you watch as his head turns to the side, his skin burning, like he’s embarrassed by the sounds slipping out of his mouth. 

but you don’t want him to be quiet. 

tilting his chin back toward you with a gentle hand, you hover just inches from his lips, your thumb brushing against the corner of his mouth. “don’t hide from me,” you murmur, your voice softer now, coaxing, suggestive on the shell of his ear. “I want to hear you.”

his breath shudders, his grip on you tightening for a split second before going slack again. another curse word tumbles from his lips, his head dropping forward, his voice coming out in airy whines. “fuck… i’m, s-so close,” he stumbles over his whispered words, his chest heaving. 

you watch him, your own breath catching in your throat now, too. 

he lifts his head again, messily searching for your lips with his own, breathing raggedly. his grip on you is tight; harsh, almost as you continue rolling your hips, feeling how he pushes his own hips up every now and then. his whole body is tense, caught between pleasure and overwhelming sensitivity, and the way he’s looking at you—dazed, unfocused, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded—only spurs you on.

your mouths sloppily connect once more, and you can tell he’s struggling to focus. 

hamzah is trembling slightly beneath you now, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps as you keep moving against him, your nails roaming his back with deliberate slowness. his head tilts back, exposing the long curve of his throat, and the soft, desperate sounds spilling from his lips are enough to send heat pooling low in your stomach.

“i cant h… im gonna–,” his voice breaks on a whimper, the muscles in his thighs going taut, a string of loud moans following his cut off words. you watch with parted lips as his head drops back against the headboard. his expression contorts with the overwhelming ecstasy that thrills through all of his nerve endings, your nails digging into the skin of his chest as you feel the muscles in his stomach contract and release in rhythm with his whiny moans. they slowly grow softer, and you bite back a brief chuckle as you feel a growing, warm, wet spot in his pants underneath you. his hands slide down from your waist to your hips, his chest still rapidly rising and falling. he keeps his eyes closed for a moment longer, seeming to relish in the sensations pulsating through his body. 

you swallow sharply, deliberately shifting a little on top of him, causing him to wince a little at the overstimulation of the sensitive area. he lazily opens his eyes into yours, his lips a little puffy and glistening as he keeps them parted, his panting slowing down slightly. his eyes are still a little unfocused and hazy as he flickers them across your face for a moment, a glint of endearment in them. he then drops his gaze down to his crotch, groaning a little. “look at this fucking mess,” he mumbles, also noticing the wet spot in the fabric, along with some of it splayed out on the skin of his stomach where his shirt had moved up. 

a breathy chuckle falls from your lips as he looks back up at you. “why would you make me ruin a perfectly good pair of sweatpants like that?” he asks jokingly, his eyes still half-lidded as he amusedly gazes at your state; a pink hue on your cheeks, lips puffy and damp, eyes heavy and your hair a little disheveled. he carefully wraps his arms around your waist, craning his neck so he can comfortably press a sweet, simple kiss on your mouth. 

you shrug playfully, grinning into the kiss. “my bad.”

[aspenmissing]

Hello! I just love reading the things you post! I check your profile all the time to see if you've posted anything new 😅

If you can, could you write a situation where S/O has an overprotective dog, where every time the arcane characters try to have even the slightest contact with S/O, S/O's dog growls, barks or even tries to bite them?

You can do as many characters as you want, but could you put Mel as one of the characters? I love her, and I hardly see her in writing like this.

*That's it, have a great year!

(I apologize if there are any spelling mistakes, English is not my language 😅)

ɢᴜᴀʀᴅ ᴅᴏɢ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴍᴇʟ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 5643 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴᴏɴᴇ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ! ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇɴɢʟɪꜱʜ ɪꜱ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀꜰᴜʟ, ʜᴏɴᴇꜱᴛʟʏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ! ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡᴡᴡᴡ, ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ᴍᴇʟ ᴊᴜꜱᴛɪᴄᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴀᴅᴏʀᴇ ʜᴇʀ. ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴅᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ! <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴍᴇʟ

JAYCE

It was a quiet evening in Piltover. The sun had begun its descent beyond the horizon, casting soft hues of orange and gold across the city. Inside Y/N’s apartment, the hum of the city faded into the background as she sat cross-legged on her couch, crochet needles in hand, working on her latest project. Remy, her overprotective dog, lay beside her on the floor, his eyes alert and ears pricked for any sign of disturbance.

It had been a long day, but Y/N found peace in these small moments. She had gotten used to life in Piltover, the noise and bustle, but the comforts of home remained her sanctuary. As she gently threaded the yarn through the needles, she felt a warm sense of contentment. That is, until Remy’s low growl suddenly broke the calm silence.

Y/N paused, looking down at the scruffy terrier. The dog’s eyes were fixed on the door with an intensity that was all too familiar. His ears were flat against his head, and his stance was tense, like a coiled spring ready to strike. The hairs along his back stood on end.

“What is it, Remy?” Y/N asked, her voice soft, but it was clear she already knew the answer. The growl deepened, low and steady, vibrating through the room.

The door creaked open, and a familiar figure stepped through: Jayce. As soon as he entered, Remy’s growl escalated into a sharp bark, loud and insistent. The dog immediately jumped to his feet, tail stiff and hackles raised.

“Remy, no,” Y/N called softly, but her voice carried the authority of years spent with the dog. “It’s just Jayce.”

Jayce froze in his tracks, his hand still on the doorknob as Remy continued to bark, his eyes fixed on him. "Uh... Should I come back later?" Jayce asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Y/N sighed, setting her crochet project aside and standing up. "Sorry, Jayce. He’s... very protective of me. I should’ve warned you."

Remy’s barks grew sharper, and he took a few steps forward, his body rigid with suspicion. He wasn’t going to let anyone near his owner without a thorough assessment, and that included Jayce.

“It’s alright, Remy. You know him,” Y/N said, walking over to the dog and kneeling down to calm him. Remy’s growl softened just a bit, but his eyes never left Jayce.

Jayce slowly approached, his hand outstretched, but the moment his fingers moved even a fraction toward Y/N, Remy lunged forward with a warning snap of his teeth.

“Hey!” Jayce flinched back, his eyes wide as he raised his hands in a defensive gesture. “I’m not going to hurt her, you know!”

Y/N chuckled nervously, standing up and trying to place herself between them. “I told you, Remy is a little... protective. He was the only one who had my back when I first came to Piltover, and he’s been like this ever since.”

Jayce blinked, looking at the dog in a mix of surprise and amusement. "I didn’t think dogs could be so territorial."

“Remy’s not just any dog. He’s a little warrior,” Y/N teased, her voice soft and affectionate as she scratched behind Remy’s ears. He huffed but seemed to settle just a bit, though his eyes never lost their intensity.

“Seems like I’m the one who needs to earn his trust, huh?” Jayce said, crossing his arms with a slight grin. “Well, I guess I can’t say I’m not up for a challenge.”

Y/N shook her head, smiling at him. “It’s not that easy. He’s not going to warm up to you just because you show up and give him a nice smile. You’ve got to work for it.”

Jayce looked skeptical, but he was determined. “What’s the first step?”

“Well,” Y/N began, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief, “for starters, he likes food. You might want to try offering him some treats. But be careful—he’s picky about who he accepts them from.”

Jayce raised an eyebrow but nodded. “I can handle that.”

Y/N walked to the small kitchen, retrieving a treat from a jar she kept on the counter. She returned to the living room and crouched down, holding the treat out to Remy. The dog eyed it with suspicion before glancing up at Jayce. After a moment of tense silence, Remy took a tentative step forward, his nose twitching as he sniffed the treat. Still, his body remained coiled and ready to react.

Jayce, watching closely, stayed still, not wanting to provoke him. Slowly, he lowered his hand, palm out but offering no sudden movements.

“Good boy, Remy,” Y/N murmured, her voice steady and calming. “It’s okay.”

After what felt like an eternity, Remy’s nose hovered over the treat, and with a cautious swipe of his tongue, he took it from Y/N’s hand. The dog’s eyes flicked back up to Jayce, a sharp glare still present, but there was a small shift in the air. He wasn’t as hostile as before, though it was clear that trust would need to be earned.

“Nice job, Jayce,” Y/N said with a smile, stepping back to let the dog enjoy the treat. “That’s the first step. You’ve got to show him you’re not a threat.”

Jayce nodded, his confidence growing slightly. “I’m getting the hang of this.”

Y/N smiled at him, but before she could say anything more, Remy let out a sharp bark, followed by a low growl as he moved closer to the couch. His eyes narrowed, and he seemed to be giving Jayce another silent warning.

“Alright, alright,” Y/N laughed softly. “I think he’s still not happy with you being this close. He’s going to need time, but... I think he’s coming around.”

Jayce chuckled softly, though he seemed a little more cautious than before. “I’ve never had a dog so... well, territorial. But I guess I can respect that. I’ll give him his space for now.”

“Thank you,” Y/N said with a grateful smile. “It’s just going to take time. He’s loyal to a fault, but once you’ve earned his trust, he’ll be your best friend. I promise.”

Jayce sat down on the couch a little further from Remy, trying to show that he respected the dog’s boundaries. The moment he did, Remy seemed to settle slightly, though he continued to eye Jayce warily.

=

For the rest of the evening, Jayce kept his distance, content to simply sit near Y/N while Remy kept an ever-watchful eye on him. Every now and then, the dog would glance at Jayce, as if gauging his intentions. Jayce, for his part, remained patient, knowing that this was just the beginning.

It wasn’t long before Remy’s stance began to relax, the tension slowly leaving his small frame. He eventually laid down, curling up beside Y/N’s feet, though his eyes never fully left Jayce. It was progress, small but significant.

Jayce smiled softly to himself, a sense of accomplishment settling over him. He might not have earned Remy’s full trust yet, but he was willing to take it one step at a time.

And as for Y/N? She couldn’t help but smile at the two of them—her overprotective dog and the man who was determined to win him over. She knew it would take time, but somehow, she was confident that the three of them could make this work. After all, even the most unlikely of families could find a way to coexist.

VIKTOR

Viktor had always been somewhat of a patient man. His work at the Academy, his inventions, and even his personal life with Y/N had taught him that patience was key. But today… today was testing that patience to its absolute limits.

He stood in the living room of Y/N's apartment, cane in hand, waiting for her to finish putting away some things in the kitchen. His heart swelled with warmth at the thought of her—of how much she had become his world over the past few months. The early stages of their relationship had been full of discovery, but now, with the idea of spending more time together, Viktor felt an incredible sense of contentment. It wasn’t just the excitement of new love; it was the quiet moments that mattered most—reading together, talking late into the night, and even the routine of everyday life.

As he waited, he admired the little details of her apartment—how it was cozy, lived-in, with warm hues of color that made it feel like home. A place where the twins often played, where they made memories. A place where he could truly be himself. His fingers gently gripped his cane, and a thought crossed his mind: How had he gotten so lucky?

He made his move toward her, cane tapping gently on the ground as he limped over, hoping to surprise her with a kiss on the cheek. Just as he reached her side, he felt it.

A low, guttural growl.

Viktor froze, his brow furrowing. He turned his head slowly to see the culprit—a large German Shepherd, eyes narrowed and body stiff, standing in the doorway of the kitchen. The dog’s fur was raised along its back, and its gaze was locked on him with a fierce intensity.

"Easy there, boy," Viktor said, trying to keep his voice calm and soothing, though there was a hint of confusion in it. "It’s just me."

The German Shepherd, however, was having none of it. He took a step forward, his growl deepening, a warning that his patience was wearing thin.

Y/N, hearing the noise, turned around with a startled look on her face. Her eyebrows furrowed in concern, but then her lips curved upward, apologetic yet exasperated. "Viktor, what did I tell you?" she asked, walking over to see what was going on.

Viktor chuckled awkwardly, attempting to lighten the mood. "I was only coming over to kiss you, love."

But before Y/N could even take a step toward him, the dog darted forward, blocking Viktor’s path entirely. The Shepherd barked sharply, louder than Viktor expected, warning Viktor to stay back. It was an aggressive move, yet there was an underlying protectiveness in the dog’s stance.

Y/N sighed, her hand rubbing the back of her neck, her expression a mixture of frustration and fondness. "I’m so sorry, Viktor. He’s just… protective. You know how he gets."

Viktor’s lips twitched into a half-smile, despite the tension in the air. "I’m starting to understand that, yes."

Y/N moved forward, her voice soft and soothing as she knelt down to calm the dog. "Max, it’s okay. Viktor’s not going to hurt me."

The German Shepherd, named Max, looked at her, still skeptical, but his growl gradually faded into low whines. Max’s eyes flickered between Viktor and Y/N, and after a long, tense moment, he finally stepped aside. However, the dog wasn’t completely convinced yet; his posture remained tense, and his gaze never left Viktor, as if waiting for any sign of danger.

Viktor took a careful step forward, cautiously holding out his hand. He knew better than to rush the situation—Max had to be won over, step by step. "How about this time?" he asked gently, offering the same calm and patient approach he had shown to so many challenges in his life.

Y/N rolled her eyes with a fond smile, clearly amused by the entire situation. She reached for Viktor’s hand, but as soon as she did, Max moved forward again, his tail stiff. With a slight tilt of his head, he grabbed Viktor’s cane in his mouth, yanking it from his hand with alarming force.

Viktor blinked, watching the dog chew on the cane with determined enthusiasm. He wasn’t sure if Max was trying to assert dominance or simply express disapproval. Either way, the dog was treating Viktor’s cane like a chew toy. Viktor’s brow raised in surprise.

"Well, I wasn’t expecting that," Viktor said with a dry chuckle, glancing at Y/N.

Y/N laughed softly, the sound light and sweet, yet tinged with the unmistakable stress of dealing with an overzealous dog. "He’s just making sure you’re safe, Viktor. You’ll have to earn his trust. But maybe… not chewing on your cane."

Viktor sighed in amusement, shaking his head. He bent down slightly to retrieve the cane from Max’s firm grip, carefully prying it free. "I suppose I’ll need a new cane if this keeps up."

Y/N grinned as she gently took Viktor’s hand, guiding him back toward the couch. She planted a quick kiss on his cheek, and with a last glance at Max, she continued. "You have to admit, though, he's dedicated."

Max, now satisfied that Viktor wasn’t a threat, dropped the cane and wagged his tail, but his eyes remained fixed on Viktor. It was almost as if the dog was keeping him under surveillance, still unsure if this human was worthy of Y/N's affection.

Viktor carefully sat down, leaning his chewed cane against the armrest as Y/N joined him. She leaned her head against his shoulder, her warmth comforting against the backdrop of the living room. Max, despite being protective, made a show of sitting on the floor beside them, though his eyes never strayed too far from Viktor.

"You know," Viktor said with a smirk, glancing at the dog, "I think I prefer the challenge of winning over the dog to anything else."

Y/N laughed softly, her breath warm against his skin. "Well, I hope you’re up for a long-term commitment, because Max is going to be a part of this."

Viktor’s heart swelled at the thought. He glanced down at the protective dog by their feet, then back at Y/N, and his expression softened. "Neither am I."

And in that moment, Viktor realized—this, right here, was home. With Y/N, with their little family, and even with Max, who might not be a fan of him yet, but who would come to understand what Viktor already knew: they were in this together, for the long haul.

JAYVIK

The sun hung lazily in the afternoon sky, casting a golden glow over the small park at the edge of Piltover. It was a rare, quiet day—one where Viktor, Y/N, and Jayce could escape the confines of their usual responsibilities. Y/N had suggested a walk, and Viktor had agreed, eager for a break from his work. Jayce had been practically bouncing with energy, more than happy to join, his laughter filling the air as they walked side by side.

Y/N had brought her dog along, as she often did. His name was Ragnar, a large, muscular Rottweiler with a glossy black-and-tan coat and an imposing presence. Though he was usually calm, he had an intense protectiveness when it came to Y/N. His instincts were sharp, and he wasn’t quick to trust anyone—especially if they got too close to his beloved owner.

As they strolled along the path, Viktor leaned heavily on his cane, his other hand resting at his side. His posture was elegant despite the slight limp, and his attention was more on Y/N than anything else. Every now and then, he’d glance over at her with a soft smile, but his focus was often interrupted by Ragnar, who trotted at her side, watching Viktor and Jayce with a keen eye.

Jayce, as always, kept up with an energetic pace, his grin wide as he glanced at Y/N. “So, what exactly makes Ragnar the world’s most overprotective dog, huh? He’s been eyeing me like I’m some kind of threat.”

Y/N laughed softly, adjusting the leash in her hand. “He’s always been this way. Ever since I got him, he’s had this... intense need to look out for me. And sometimes that means getting a little... territorial.”

Viktor, walking just behind them, couldn’t help but chuckle, his cane tapping rhythmically on the pavement. “Territorial seems like an understatement. Ragnar looks like he’d throw the entire city into disarray if anyone even thought about threatening you.”

Ragnar, who had been walking at Y/N’s side, suddenly stiffened and let out a low growl as Viktor drew closer. The sound was enough to make Viktor pause, his eyes flicking down to the dog, whose dark eyes were now fixed on him.

“Viktor,” Y/N warned softly, her voice calm but amused. “He’s just... wary of you. He doesn’t like people getting too close to me unless he’s okay with them.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. “I see. I’ll have to earn Ragnar’s approval before I can even hold your hand, it seems.”

Y/N’s lips curved into a warm smile. “Pretty much. But it’ll come with time, I’m sure. He’s just protective.”

Jayce, sensing an opportunity for a little fun, grinned widely. “Well, I’m not going to let a little thing like a dog stop me.” He reached out toward Y/N, but as his hand neared, Ragnar immediately stepped between them, growling louder, his body tense.

Y/N quickly tugged on the leash, a light laugh escaping her. “Okay, okay. Maybe not yet, Jayce.”

Jayce raised both hands in mock surrender, his grin widening. “What is this—some sort of initiation? Am I going to have to pass Ragnar’s loyalty test to get close to you?”

Viktor chuckled quietly, adjusting his grip on his cane. “It would appear so.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to stifle her laughter. “You two are hopeless. Ragnar just needs to get used to you both. You’re not that bad, I promise.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Jayce crouched down slightly, lowering himself to Ragnar’s level. “Alright, buddy. I’m just here to walk with your owner. No harm meant.” He slowly extended a hand, but Ragnar’s gaze remained fixed on him, the growl never fully disappearing.

Y/N gave Ragnar a gentle but firm command. “Ragnar, stop. It’s okay. You need to trust them.” She turned to Jayce and Viktor, her voice full of affection. “He’s not used to... this. But he’ll come around.”

Jayce stood up again, grinning. “I guess I’ll have to win Ragnar over first, huh?”

Viktor glanced at Y/N, his smile softening. “Looks like we’re both in the doghouse, then.”

VANDER

It was one of those rare days where Y/N had no urgent work to get to, no battles to fight, and no one to protect. She was sprawled across her bed, wrapped in a soft blanket with the kids surrounding her like a cozy barricade. Powder had her feet propped up on Y/N’s lap while Vi and Mylo were sitting cross-legged next to her. Claggor had somehow managed to curl up in the tiniest space at the edge of the bed, practically melting into the blankets.

Thorin, her fiercely protective dog—a large, sleek Doberman Pinscher—was seated at the end of the bed, his piercing brown eyes never leaving the door. His ears were alert, twitching at every small sound that filtered in from outside, but for now, the dog was in a rare moment of calm, perhaps sensing his owner’s need for peace. He had always been attuned to her moods, and today, it seemed, he too was settling in for a lazy, quiet afternoon.

"Don't you dare try to move," Powder teased, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she leaned back against Y/N's side, "I think we all need this."

Y/N chuckled softly, her fingers gently running through Powder’s hair. “I won’t. This is... exactly what I needed.”

The sound of the door creaking open sliced through the warmth of the room, and there stood Vander, leaning casually against the doorframe with a soft grin on his face. His broad shoulders filled the doorway, and his presence filled the room just as much as the light from the afternoon sun. His eyes immediately sought Y/N’s, warmth and affection shining through them. But as soon as he made eye contact with her, Thorin’s head snapped to attention.

The dog’s gaze flicked from Vander’s face to his boots, and then the low growl began to build in his chest. It wasn’t loud at first, more of a warning, but the moment Vander took a step forward, it deepened into a steady, rumbling sound.

“Easy, boy,” Y/N murmured under her breath, but Thorin wasn’t listening. His ears were stiff and forward, his body rigid, and the growl built into a deep, resonant warning that had the hairs on the back of Vander’s neck standing up. His eyes never left the towering figure of the man at the door.

Vander chuckled softly, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, Y/N. Thought I’d join you all for a moment.”

As soon as his foot crossed the threshold, Thorin rose to his feet with an almost mechanical precision, his eyes narrowing in on Vander’s every move. With a single, sharp bark, the Doberman advanced with purpose, his teeth flashing in a warning that was impossible to ignore.

“No way,” Mylo laughed, nudging Powder who was clearly enjoying the scene. "Looks like Thorin’s not a fan of you today."

Vander froze in place, watching the dog’s every move carefully, his usual calm demeanour not quite as unshakable as usual. “Not a fan, huh?”

Y/N sighed, a soft chuckle escaping her as she sat up slightly. She reached out a hand toward Thorin, her voice calm but firm. “He’s just... protective. I’m his person. He doesn’t take kindly to anyone getting too close.”

Vander nodded, an amused yet understanding expression on his face. “I see. Maybe we need to work on that.”

“I think it’ll take some time,” Y/N replied, her hand still resting near Thorin’s head, but the dog wasn’t moving. His gaze never strayed from Vander, his muscles still taut with suspicion.

Vi, never one to let an opportunity for teasing slip by, grinned widely. "Maybe you should try to pet him, Vander. See if that gets you in his good books."

Y/N glanced over at Vi, her brow raised in playful reprimand. “Vi…”

His grin was wide now, clearly up for the challenge. Slowly, carefully, he took a few cautious steps forward, his eyes flicking from Thorin to Y/N. “Alright, big guy. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

As soon as he moved again, Thorin barked sharply, the sound echoing off the walls of the room. Before Vander could take another step, the dog was up on his feet again, advancing with purpose, every muscle in his body primed for action. The kids, still watching the interaction, burst into laughter as Vander stopped dead in his tracks. He held his hands up in mock surrender, stepping back carefully.

"I think you’ll have to win over Thorin before you get a spot on the bed," Y/N teased, looking over her shoulder at Vander, her eyes twinkling with affectionate amusement.

Vander, however, wasn’t deterred. He chuckled, unbothered by the Doberman’s protective stance. "Looks like it," he grinned, though there was a slight hesitation in his step. “Alright, Thorin. I get it. I’ll wait my turn.”

The kids were still giggling, and Y/N patted the spot next to her with a teasing smile. "You can sit here... just be patient."

Vander didn’t seem to mind. He leaned back against the doorframe, sitting down on the edge of the room and letting the moments pass by. He was content to watch Y/N surrounded by the kids—each of them in their own little world as they joked, laughed, and basked in the warmth of each other’s company. Thorin, once again at the end of the bed, was calm now, though his vigilant eyes still remained trained on Vander, just in case he dared to get any closer.

Vander smiled softly, his heart swelling at the sight of this little family, each of them so full of life. Despite Thorin’s fierce protective instincts, this was a family he’d gladly protect with his life. And if that meant waiting for Thorin’s approval, he’d do so without hesitation. He knew, in time, he’d earn it.

SILCO

It was a quiet evening in the undercity, the kind of night that made the world feel a little smaller. The air was thick with the scent of wet stone, smoke, and the distant sounds of bustling crowds, but inside, the small room felt like a sanctuary from the chaos outside. Silco sat across from Y/N, the candlelight casting a flickering glow across his sharp features, making his eyes gleam with a soft intensity. His fingers idly traced the rim of his glass, the faint clink of ice against glass the only sound accompanying the low hum of conversations in the background. The rest of the world seemed distant, blurred around the edges. All that mattered was the woman sitting in front of him.

Pippin, Y/N's tiny, scruffy dog, was curled up in her lap. The small, wiry-bodied terrier, a Cairn Terrier, was blissfully unaware of the growing tension between Silco and himself. His fur was a bit unkempt, a perfect reflection of his spunky personality. He fit the part of a tough little protector despite his small size, and Silco had already come to understand that very well. Pippin's small but confident stature allowed him to hold his ground like a much larger dog, especially when it came to his beloved owner.

Silco leaned forward slightly, his smirk playing at the corners of his lips, eyes never leaving Y/N's. The flickering candlelight illuminated the curves of her face, her lips almost within reach, and for a moment, he couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander. "You know," he began softly, his voice lower than usual, almost intimate, "I think I’ve grown quite fond of you."

The words hung in the air between them, and he felt a strange satisfaction at the softness in her gaze. But before Y/N could respond, Pippin’s tiny ears perked up. His bright eyes locked onto Silco with an almost uncanny precision, and the protective streak he had for Y/N flared to life.

The dog’s growl rumbled through the room, low and menacing, and he shifted his position, curling tighter around Y/N, as if to shield her. The small creature's body was tense, his stance firm. Silco paused, his eyebrow raised in amusement. "Is that a warning?" he asked, the faintest chuckle escaping his lips as he regarded the dog with a mixture of mock challenge and respect.

Y/N sighed, brushing her hand through Pippin’s fur, trying to calm him down, though it was clear that Pippin’s distrust wasn’t easily quelled. "He’s just... protective," she murmured, her voice apologetic but soft, as if trying to pacify both Silco and the dog at once.

Unfazed, Silco took a step closer, his eyes softening as he reached out, his intention clear. He was hoping to steal a quick, tender peck on Y/N’s cheek, a silent declaration of his affection, but just as he leaned in, Pippin bared his tiny teeth, his growl growing louder, more insistent. The dog, despite his size, seemed absolutely determined to protect Y/N from any threat, no matter how harmless.

Silco halted immediately, his gaze flicking from Y/N to Pippin, and then back again. He couldn’t help but let a smirk slip onto his lips. "Really?" he mused, his voice a quiet, amused drawl. "I’ve been here longer than this little tyrant, you know. I think he knows who’s really in charge."

Y/N couldn’t suppress a laugh, though she quickly bit her lip to hide it, glancing down at Pippin. "He doesn’t seem to care."

Silco leaned back slightly, but his smirk remained. "I was here first," he teased, his eyes glinting with a playful challenge as he looked at Pippin. "He’ll come around. Eventually."

Pippin’s growl softened a little, but the little dog didn’t take his eyes off Silco. He seemed content to remain in his defensive position, as though daring Silco to try and prove his point. Silco shook his head in mock resignation before taking another step closer, this time with deliberate care. He leaned in again, but this time, he made sure to take his time. As his lips brushed against Y/N’s cheek, he murmured against her skin, his breath warm. "If anything," he whispered, his voice quiet but teasing, "I think he just wants to keep you all to himself."

Y/N felt her heart flutter, the warmth of his kiss lingering on her skin as she closed her eyes for a moment, allowing herself to simply enjoy the closeness. A soft smile curled at her lips. "That’s what I’m afraid of," she said with a gentle sigh, her eyes opening to meet his.

Pippin, finally seeming to relax, let out a soft, contented sigh of his own. He curled up once more in Y/N’s lap, his tiny body settling into a peaceful sleep, though his eyes still occasionally flicked toward Silco, ever watchful. Silco, too, relaxed, though he knew he had to earn his place in Y/N’s world. Even if that meant working through the small, overprotective terrier who now claimed a part of her heart.

"Don't worry," Silco whispered, his voice low and sincere as he gazed at Y/N. "I’ll find a way to win him over."

Y/N smiled at him, her fingers running gently through Pippin's fur once more. "You’re gonna need a lot of patience."

Silco chuckled darkly, the sound rich with amusement. "Patience has never been a problem of mine," he murmured, settling back into his chair. "But this little one..." His eyes flicked to Pippin, still curled up peacefully in Y/N's lap. "He's going to be an interesting challenge."

MEL

It was a quiet evening in Piltover, the moon casting soft shadows over the city, and Mel found herself sitting with Y/N in the warmth of her living room. There was a sense of newness in the air between them—an unspoken promise, a blossoming relationship that neither had fully acknowledged yet, but both could feel.

As Y/N relaxed on the couch, Mel couldn't resist the urge to close the distance between them, her gaze softening. She reached out, her fingers brushing Y/N's hand as she took a seat beside her, her movements slow, deliberate.

Before Mel could even attempt to lean in for a kiss, a deep, rumbling growl echoed from across the room.

Mel froze, eyes narrowing at the massive figure that had appeared at her side. A large Rottweiler stood there, its fur bristling, teeth bared in a low snarl. It was staring directly at her, unwavering, as though it had just been waiting for any sign of threat.

Y/N sighed, a hand instinctively reaching out to calm the dog. "And here we go again," she muttered under her breath.

Mel's lips curled into a smirk, undeterred. "Is this how he greets all your visitors?"

"Only those he’s suspicious of," Y/N replied, giving her dog an amused yet tired look. "His name's Diesel. And he’s... overly protective."

"Diesel, huh?" Mel asked, eyes gleaming with mischief. "I think I can handle him."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"

Without waiting for a response, Mel met Diesel’s gaze with a steady, intense stare, trying to assert her own dominance, just as she would in any other tense situation. The Rottweiler’s eyes flickered for a moment, but it didn’t back down. Instead, it took a step forward, letting out a sharper growl.

Mel’s lips quirked upwards, a challenge in her eyes. She refused to look away, determined to assert her place beside Y/N.

Diesel’s growl deepened, and then, suddenly, he lunged forward. Mel didn’t flinch; instead, she raised her hand with a commanding motion, as though to say, stay. Diesel paused mid-charge, eyes locked on hers, before he finally stopped, albeit still tense, his teeth visible in the dim light.

Y/N watched, a mixture of surprise and amusement on her face. "Okay, you might actually be able to handle him."

Mel smirked, her victory sweet, but as she turned back to Y/N, she could see the slight shift in Diesel’s posture, and she knew he was still watching. "So... what’s the deal with him? He doesn’t trust me?"

Y/N leaned back, rubbing Diesel’s fur absently, though her attention was on Mel. "He's just... protective. He’s been with me through everything, and he’s not a fan of anyone getting close. Especially someone he doesn't know well."

Mel chuckled, but there was a hint of determination in her voice. "I’ll win him over. I’m not backing down that easily."

As if to punctuate the challenge, Diesel growled again, this time closer to Mel, but Y/N quickly intervened, giving her dog a firm look. "Diesel, enough. Mel’s not going anywhere."

Mel smirked, leaning forward slightly. "Maybe it’s not just Diesel you need to convince."

Y/N met her gaze, eyes softening as she realized what Mel meant. The playful tension in the air shifted into something deeper, more intimate, as Mel moved a fraction of an inch closer.

Before Mel could close the gap, Diesel was back again, his deep voice rumbling in the quiet room, warning her with another low growl. But this time, Mel didn’t back down. She kept her gaze locked with Y/N’s, her presence commanding, making it clear that no matter what Diesel thought, she wasn’t going anywhere.

Y/N finally laughed softly, the tension breaking. "Looks like it’s just the two of you against me," she teased.

Mel’s smirk turned into something more tender, and she leaned in just enough to brush her lips against Y/N’s cheek. "Just the three of us," she whispered, and this time, Diesel didn’t growl—though he did eye Mel suspiciously, as if still trying to figure out if she was a threat.

For now, Y/N could only shake her head, the connection between them undeniable. Even if Diesel was a stubborn protector, Y/N had a feeling Mel wouldn’t be so easily deterred. And, for her part, she was starting to like that about Mel.

[demons-art-hell]

Lore expansion on Joel's role in gbau!

Exposition: Vampires, whilst a proven fact in gbau, are still rather mystic and generally unheard of Typically, they're thought of as near exitinct, when it truth they live under the radar in secret

Those with express features such as pointed ears tend to explain it away by being Elyian (very brief overview! I will get more into how vampires function in a seperate post)

Continued under the cut

Anyway, This being the case, there is lots of prejudice towards vampires, and plenty of blatantly incorrect information, particularly of old historical and/or fictional nature

After reuniting with Grian and Mumbo (and being introduced to Scar) at an unofficial homecoming (hosted by Gem & The Scotts because they wanted to show off perform), Joel takes an interest in writing about the project they're both a part of

Whilst there, however.. He notices how strange and different Grian is

First, and most prominently, his feathers have gold bands on their edges Now, Joel isn't an expert on hybrids, let alone avians, but surely it doesn't make sense for a feather pattern to suddenly change somewhere in adulthood

Following that, not only are his wings singed gold but so are his eyes... And they seem to glow with it?

Possibly least importantly, the man isn't wearing glasses This, by itself, isn't suspicious, but knowing how Grian was in his teens, he HATED contact lenses, and Joel knows he can't see for shit without his glasses

When broached on this, Grian clams up about his wings, muttering something of it being medical, but as for his eyes, his excuse comes in the form of switching to contacts, and, while he's at it, choosing coloured ones

Joel is unsatisfied with this answer, as it doesn't explain the glow his eyes appear to have, nor does he believe Grian would ever get over hating contacts, but he doesn't press further

Later on in the night, he notices a fuss as Grian hurries out into the bathroom

When he asks, Mumbo, who'd stayed behind to make space for him to leave, responds that Grian started having sudden nose bleeds recently

Odd

This is all strange behaviour, but nothing about this sets Joel off to investigate until the day he actually goes in for his article

And sees distinct bite marks on Grian's neck Ones he flusters about and hides quickly

And the whole thing just snowballs from there

Glowing eyes in the dark? Suddenly not requiring glasses? Having 'nosebleeds' where he could be going off to do who knows what Finding someone to feed off of perhaps?

He can't explain the gold in the wings, but it sure only adds to his suspicion!

Joel begins making excuses to remain at their project's headquarters, spinning some story about wanting to make more articles as he (not so) subtly begins digging into Grian

He notes many things like how he always seem tired, sometimes even passing out around the building, and eventually scrounges up from somewhere that he changed jobs, abandoning his own project due to 'not being able to partake in the contruction' anymore

He notes how little Grian goes outside and, when he does, how little he flies compared to when he last saw him

Perhaps the sun makes him tired? Weak enough to not fly? He certainlly seems sickly enough for it

The more time passes the further into a hole he digs himself, noting how Grian appears to recover from injury too fast, how he turns to face people just a fraction too early compared to when they call him, and him knowing things he shouldn't

Such as where someone is in the building, even if Joel KNOWS he hasn't seen them all day

It gets concerning, in fact, how much he puts into this

I love conspiracy theorist Joel He's incredibly suspicious of everything Grian does now, believing it to be an evil vampire plot of some sort I will probably try and write something on the makeshift homecoming, so that I can introduce more characters and their roles/magic in this au Note on the comic: A plaster is a band aid Also I call this a homecoming, but the school system in this universe will be closer to the British schooling system than the American one. Because I don't know anything about it. It confuses me Second notes: The 'project' Grian Scar and Joel are a part of is a hermitcraft equivalent. Eventually I will get everyone moving into the area! starting with Joel convincing Lizzie they should start up a second branch of their cafe there And the project Grian worked on before the incident is a life series equivalent! Alright! Good day, good evening, good night!

[whatcannotbesaid-shallbewept]

So What Makes Chappell Roan so great anyway?

This post is way too long. BUT. If you are interested in how Chappell fits into the current pop landscape, why she’s unique, and why she got so big then read on.

Personally - I think if pop music is going to continue then it NEEDS to follow Chappell Roan’s example.

As a popstar she stands out from her contemporaries in a way that isn’t talked out enough. If the world doesn’t end in the next ten years, I feel like we’ll be looking back at Chappell Roan as a gamechanger for changing the pop landscape. 

Let’s put things into context. Before going to gay clubs and writing pop music, Chappell was closer to an Adele-wannabe than the next Lady Gaga. 

In old videos from the 2010s Chappell distances herself from the “pop” label. Her republican family wanted her to use her voice to go into country or christian music. 

Becoming a popstar - a Katy perry maximalist popstar at that! - was not only a deliberate choice from what she used to be, but a risk for her. The oldest songs on her album are still piano ballads for that reason. 

If you look at her career momentum you can already tell she’s coming at this from a much different angle from everyone else.

Back in the rock era, people heard “Live Forever” or “Smells Like Teen Spirit” in tiny venues before they even knew anything about Oasis or Nirvana. The bands got big because of the strength of those songs - 

Success doesn't work like that in the pop landscape though.

Ariana Grande, Selena Gomez, Tate Mcrae, Sabrina Carpenter, Harry Styles, Camilla Cabello, Renee Rapp didn’t get big off the strength of their songs. You can argue they have good songs, sure - but that’s not how the order they got famous in. Their names were known before they had songs out. They then had songs people liked, but they were famous first. 

Would Selena Gomez really have gotten so famous if she started out by just touring a lot as a no-namer and hoping people liked her songs enough to buy them?

But Chappell got big the old way! She performed live in obscurity for years, working and learning how to hype up a crowd. Go watch her perform Naked In Manhattan to a crowd of 50 people. She custom-made songs to sound better live. The thing that finally pushed her into the mainstream was giving a great performance at Coachella.

People just liked her music enough to keep seeing her live, despite her not being famous. 

She has a much different background than any pop star working today, and because of that she just brings a lot of different things to the table. She’s not only not a traditional popstar - she’s openly explicitly gay, her drag aesthetic isn’t to shock it’s out of a genuine love for that style - she doesn’t sound like a traditional popstar. 

First of all - her voice! Which honestly needs to be talked about way more, because WOW. Way more expressive and powerful than what’s expected from pop music. I think Olivia has a great voice too, but Chappell just makes way more interesting choices with her vocal performances. It’s really no contest.

 Listen to how hurt she sounds in Casual, how angry she is in Good Luck Babe or how scared she is in Pink Pony Club. See how different she sounds from Ultra Graphic Modern Girl, California and Guilty Pleasure. Like yeah, obviously this woman started out singing low-key piano ballads where she had to work to actually distinguish her voice instead of letting it drown under production. 

She also just has way different influences than the other main pop girls. 

We currently are living in the era where every new popstar really, really wants to be Taylor Swift. Olivia is Taylor all over, Gracie Abrams is very much positioning herself as a Taylor Swift type figure, and Sabrina is extremely influenced by her. 

However Chappell (And Billie actually) are really uninterested in Taylor. 

Chappell lists her influences as Lady Gaga, Katy Perry and Kate Bush. Billie always mentions alt-icons like Radiohead, Amy Winehouse, Lana Del Rey. Both are actually pretty influenced by Lana. And it shows when you compare their music -

Olivia does some interesting stuff with her sound - the riot grrl nods are very fun imo - same for Sabrina (Go listen to Juno and Espresso!). But they are a lot less adventurous than Billie and Chappell sound-wise. Like Taylor they just prefer to stick to something so they can put the lyrics onto. Like Taylor their lyrics are self-referential and outwardly trying to signal to the audience what they’re about. 

For Billie and Chappell the production is just as important as the rest of the song. Which puts them more in the lane of alt artists like Caroline Polachek, lana del rey or Charli XCX. It makes Rise And Fall Of A Midwest Princess/Hit Me Hard And Soft way leagues more interesting to listen to than Tortured Poets Department or The Secret Of Us. 

I already knew about Chappell from the lesbian twitter circles I was on. But like… that wasn’t necessarily unique to her. We were also hyping up quite a few gay girl obscure singers. Fletcher, XANA, Renee Rapp all had their moments where we thought they could be a big thing. Especially Fletcher. Chappell Roan actually started out opening for Fletcher. Which is crazy, since you guys probably haven’t even heard of her. 

If we’re being serious, there have been lesbians making pop music before the Beatles (Lesley Gore, Dusty Springfield). In the modern age, there are multiple lesbians winning grammys, some are on the charts, and there are plenty of famous bisexual woman making music. Chappell is not a gamechanger for being openly queer.

But when we talk about Pop music, Chappell Roan stands out because she's owning it, in a similar way that Lil Nas X did. Making it extremely explicit in almost every one of her songs, and making her queerness is a huge part of over the top pop persona. 

Lil Nas X isn’t all that relevant anymore but he was breaking boundaries that haven’t been touched since Madonna for a while there. Chappell Roan definitely feels like a continuation of that.

She’s also just very good at articulating the queer experience? 

Obviously she has the “men can’t give me orgasms” songs, but Pink Pony Club might be the archetypal example here. Leaving your shitty hometown to be gay in the big city is a topic that has been done before - but Chappell sounds so vulnerable when she sings it.

She doesn’t pose being herself in that song as a choice - but something done out of necessity. And like Queer Euphoria of being free for the first time, you hear it! There’s so much optimism and heartbreak in that song. All the best Chappell songs have both of those in them.

Naked In Manhattan is joyful and euphoric for the most part - but in the subtext its way more complicated. She’s way more into this girl and vice versa, and how apprehensive, and again, vulnerable she sounds on some of lines kinda hurts your soul.

Kaleidoscope is mostly a sad song about falling in love with your best friend but how hopeful and pleading she is in the chorus just makes the entire song.

Unlike say Olivia, she writes her pop songs to have emotional plot twists Guilty pleasure and Feminonmenon start out as sad ballads and break out into explosive energetic pop songs. Bridges in Red wine supernova or Good Luck Babe hit like a sledgehammer. 

Oh yeah. Good Luck Babe. She can work in the industry for another ten years but I still think “You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling” will go down as her best lyric. 

As a woman who repressed herself for years and grew up in a homophobic environment… It shows in the way she writes. She knew from experience what “you’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling” meant. 

But even down to the way that she describes love, you can tell its actually very different than her popstar colleagues. Love is a Chappell Roan song is an immovable force that can’t be tamed or controlled. In the narratives she sings about, it’s hindering her, making things more complicated, breaking her heart when it isn’t breaking her partners.

 

In typical pop-punk fashion ;ove in an Olivia Rodrigo song is a condition. Illogical, embarrassing but ultimately something to get over (Stranger) or to avoid (Bad Idea right, get him back). It gets rough out there, but love can very much be won in a Olivia song. 

Love in a Sabrina song is a game. Or perhaps more like a battle? Sabrina is locked in regardless. Almost every love song Sabrina writes is about her plans or how she wants things to go just as much as it's about what’s actually happening. The way her relationships affect her ego and people's perception of her is one of the big challenges she goes through in her discography .

Most of the time she fails! The balancing game between having someone and her ego gets tipped in the wrong direction. She’s with guys just for the sake of saying she’s with someone. It ends poorly. Sabrina’s songs are full of expectations in a way. This is probably why straight women relate to her so much.

Love in a Chappell Roan song is an eldritch monster.  It can’t be controlled or stopped. All you can do is obey or suffer through it. She sounds so angry in the good luck babe bridge because she knows you can’t control love. 

You’d have to stop the WORLD just to stop the feeling. 

[murderbot]

hello, just letting anyone that comes here to look know that i will be away from tumblr for a week

any pings i receive i will look at and reblog when i come back

as during my absence i will not be able to make pings myself, i have decided to also leave a list of the campaigns i have been promoting, and i hope you will look at them and contribute to them even if i am not pinging lists every day

URGENT

israa [campaign] [post] israa's daughter urgently needs funds for an operation; she has hepatitis and needs treatment for it, without which she will die. israa's father has similarly passed on due to needing treatment she could not pay for, and it has been a long time fundraising for her daughter's critical need already $3,783 USD / $4,200 - $417 more needed at time of writing 22 days since israa told me about this need at time of writing

yahya [campaign] [post] yahya's younger brother omar was burnt during a fire bombing the IOF did to their camp - he urgently needs skin grafts, which the doctors have agreed to do at 50% of the full payment. while it was believed that we had reached this amount, because of fees gazans are forced to pay to receive their money, yahya's family didn't receive the amount needed. omar still needs his surgery urgently €5,079 / €5,450 - €371 more needed at time of writing 23 since the previous surgery deadline at time of writing

TIME SENSITIVE

samah [ko-fi] [post] samah's son ammar has many illnesses that she is unable to easily address in gaza, and the treatment to only alleviate without curing the illnesses is also far more expensive than she can afford - treatment for low oxygen costs $456 every 15 days, and then he needed injections that cost $3,940. therefore, she now requests we all focus our donation efforts to giving to ko-fi where we have her evacuation fund. $218 / $15,000 - $14,782 more needed at time of writing she hopes to leave by march 2nd, or march 15th at the latest

noor [campaign] [post] noor is recovering from a life-saving surgery that still needs expensive, €800 post-surgery care. this care has not been paid for in two weeks now, when she needs it every week - her and her family also want to go home, something they haven't been able to afford yet €18,738 / €19,672 - €934 more needed at time of writing €446 is needed before the end of today at time of writing to meet her weekly payment

DAILY NEEDS

siraj [campaign] [post] siraj currently has a temporary goal set up to buy water tanks for his family's house - it has been mostly destroyed and he wishes to work on restoring it to livability, starting with water €2,832 / €3,000 - €168 more needed at time of writing

aya [campaign] [post] aya's campaign, despite being vetted, has received extremely little attention and has yet to hit her first €1k - this is the temporary goal i have set for her in hopes of gaining donations, but long periods of no donations continue for her. €734 / €1,000 - €266 more needed at time of writing

faten [campaign] [post] faten's campaign is also one which has had extremely slow traction recently despite being vetted - she is on el-shab-hussein & nabulsi's vetted fundraiser list, yet receives no donations for extended periods of time. her husband has had his hand amputated and needs a prosthetic so that he is better able to help with the family's daily needs, and her children require milk and medication. i also set a temporary goal for her hoping to encourage donations, but there has been very little in the way of engagement unfortunately $20,357 USD / $20,500 - $143 more needed at time of writing

[theherothesavior]

Joel Miller x AFAB reader

Warnings: alcohol, slapping (not from Joel), light angst, my shitty writing, not proofread.

Author’s Note: This is the first thing I’ve ever really posted in here for a character so please be kind. Feedback is always appreciated.

Word Count: ~3k

………………….…………………………………………………………

Three months in Jackson means nothing when your brain is still out there. Out where the ghosts of the past linger as pale memories of a life you never even got the chance to live. No graduating high school, no getting to enjoy college, hell, not even a normal relationship with someone where the worst thing that could happen would most likely have been a shitty break-up and not watching them get eaten by a faceless fungus monster. Every day in Jackson is a reminder of what you’ve lost, or rather, what was taken from you. This illusion of a normal community makes you sick as you walk down to the bar, the only real thing in this fake town that is worth being here.

Passing through the Tipsy Bison to one of the stools against the bar is the highlight of each night at this point. Jack, the surly bartender who’s a spitting image of Willie Nelson, pours you your regular and you thank him, tipping your head back to down it before nodding for another. Around the fourth drink, the familiar smell of campfire and saddle leather settles next to you.

“Rough day?” He grumbles softly, Jack giving him his usual drink as well.

“Not in the mood, Joel.” You huff back, completely uninterested in speaking with your housemate at this moment. He scoffs next to you and your jaw clenches in aggravation. “What?” You ask through clenched teeth.

“Nothin’... just wonderin’ what’s up your ass lately.” He whispers, head turning to face you. “You’ve been like this since we got back here and decided to stay.” You avoid looking at him, continuing to sip your drink, making him sigh and move forward. “Listen, darlin’... I don’t really care if you talk to me or not, but you’re upsetting Ellie. She thinks you’re pissed at her.”

“I’m not,” You answer simply.

“Yeah, I know that but she doesn’t… she even said you came home drunk the other night and said some stuff about wanting to go back out there.” His voice is eerily soft, making you finally look at him. Remorse bubbles up your throat, wishing you could take those words back from her. You swallow it down.

“It’s not because of her. She shouldn’t worry about it.” You finish your drink, a little tipsy at this point, but wave to Jack for another. The next one comes and goes in the blink of an eye, and the next…and the one after that. When you call for your eighth drink, thoroughly drunk at this point, Joel stops you from downing it.

“You’re done, darlin’. Let’s go home.” His tone, still as soft as earlier and it makes my chest ache, the usual rough timber of his voice, lowering to a volume only you can hear. You push the warm feeling of him away, wanting to drown it in the warmth of liquor instead.

“No. Leave me alone.” You say, reaching for the drink. He quickly downs it, keeping one arm on your waist as you lean too far off the stool, practically falling in his lap. “Asshole.” Your voice raises and he immediately rises, towering over you.

“Enough.” His voice, dangerously low as he glares down at you.

“I’m not a child, Joel.” You bite back, but the words slur from your tongue, falling between you two like fluff. “Then stop actin’ like one.” He says sternly, the commanding look on his face shooting straight down your body. Your knees grow weak and you can’t tell if it’s from him or the copious amount of alcohol from this evening.

“Don’t talk to me like that…” your voice barely above a whisper, no real power behind it. You push his hands off your hips and stumble out of the building, boots crunching as they meet the snow. The cold air whips across your cheek as you tilt your head back to face the sky, eyes closed, letting the snowflakes land in your lashes. For a moment, everything’s normal. The world didn’t end. You’re just standing drunk in the snow, enjoying the beauty of life, feeling as weightless and soft as the snow melting against your cheeks.

That doesn’t last long.

“Awe… are you drunk again?” A grating voice pulls you from your thoughts, from your moment of peace. You turn carefully and open your hazy eyes to see Mallory. The terrible woman who lives next door to you, Ellie, and Joel. The same irritating woman who is constantly trying to live in Joel’s pants. Her condescending smirk lingers on her face as you manage to answer, obviously drunk.

“Maybe. But at least I don’t look like you.” It makes no sense, but you’re too gone to care. She scoffs out a laugh. “Yeah, too bad for you, sweetie, ‘cause Joel seems to actually notice me.” You can’t help the giggle that crosses your lips before immediately answering, “Joel thinks you look like a 40-year-old busted Barbie doll.” Your voice, slurred, but the insult doesn’t go unheard by Mallory. “Said…. He said… he thinks all the plastic in your body is what keeps anything from biting you. S’how you survived this long.” You giggle more to yourself but Mallory moves quickly, way too fast for your drunken reflexes, slapping you across the face. You hold your cheek, the cold weather making the sting worse.

“What the hell!?” You exclaim.

“Stupid whore! You don’t get to speak to me that way! You think that just because you have Joel wrapped around your finger and shoved so deep down your throat, you can walk around this town like you can’t be touched. Well… you’ve never been more wrong. He’ll see. He’ll see just what a liar you really are.” With that final threat, she shoves you hard, causing you to fall on your back in the snow. Your drunken mind struggles to catch up to what just happened and how you’re suddenly parallel with the night sky, a searing pain traveling up your spine.

“Shit..shit..shit…” You roll on your back, the cold seeping through your coat reminding you of the large gash you’ve been hiding for a few days now. Mallory laughs at you, bitterly, as you writhe on the ground, unable to get up in your drunken state. Her laughter gets drowned out by the familiar sound of Joel’s voice coming closer.”

“Hey! What the fuck is going on here?” He comes stomping over, glaring at Mallory as she plasters a look of faux concern on her face.

“I don’t know, I think she fell because she’s drunk again. I was coming to help her up and take her home to you.” Her fake sweetness makes your teeth hurt just hearing it as Joel kneels next to you.

“Come on, darlin’.” One arm slips under your shoulders while his other hand holds yours helping you to your feet. “Easy.” He whispers in your ear, his hand sliding down your back making you hiss and recoil in pain, stumbling back at the quick motion and almost falling down. “What? What’s wrong?” His eyes soften as he searches your face, his chest tight with worry as he watches you draw away from him. You mumble something incoherently, and he can’t understand what you’re trying to say. Mallory attempts to say something to him, her words falling on deaf ears as he slowly and carefully brings you back home. “Come on, up to the bathroom.” His voice, sweet but stern in your ear as he helps you upstairs, guiding you to sit on the lid of the toilet.

“I’m gonna take this off, okay?” He tugs at your coat’s zipper with a soft nod, like he’s speaking to a toddler, waiting for you to nod back before actually taking it off. The chunky sound of your coat unzipping, mixed with your drunken breathing is the only sound in the room. Once it’s off, Joel puts your coat to the side before turning back to you. “Okay, I need you to turn around and straddle the seat for me.” His hands tenderly move to your elbows, helping to shift positions so he can get a full view of your back. You sit back down and giggle.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, a slight grin on his face.

“Straddle,” you giggle more. “It’s a funny word.” Joel huffs out a laugh behind you, shaking his head. “Alright, Giggles, I’m gonna lift your shirt to check your back now.”

“You’re not even going to buy me dinner before you undress me, Miller?” You joke and once again he grins when you can’t see, shaking his head. He doesn’t answer while he grabs the hem of your shirt and starts to carefully roll it up your back with his warm hands. Always so warm, even though it’s below 20 degrees out. His whole aura, the color of a diminishing fire. Not as bright as it once was, but still has the potential to burn bright again. Not in the same way, never in the same way, but warm nonetheless.

His hands move your shirt up and you hear his breath catch in his throat. “…sweet girl.” His words, laced with stress and pity as his fingers delicately stroke your bare skin. You shudder from his gentle touch and the cool air hitting your exposed flesh. “When the hell is this from? This doesn’t look new.” He asks, confused.

“S’not… from those raiders a couple of days ago.” You mumble, even in your drunken state you know he’s going to be pissed.

“2 weeks?!” He exclaims, stressed. “You had this for two weeks and it looks barely healed. Have you even been taking care of it? Or are you giving up on that too?” His hand moves and you hiss as your shirt grazes the irritated wound, making you just pull the shirt over your head leaving your top half completely bare.

“What do you mean given up on that too, Joel? What else have I given up on?” You manage to string the sentence together with enough sobriety to get your irritation across.

“Nothing… it means nothing.” His voice, withdrawn as he grabs the first aid kit from under the sink before turning the conversation back toward my back. “Why’d you hide this for two weeks? It looks like it’s a day away from infection.” He mumbles angrily finding an alcohol wipe from the box and running it over the wound making you grip the top of the toilet tank in pain. “Why didn’t you say anything about this?” He asks, a bit of frustration in his voice. You sigh in relief as he stops using the alcohol on your cut flesh, “...because I knew you’d freak out about it. You’d get all Joel about it and make me feel like shit.”

You answer quietly, each pass of bandage and cleaning solution on your skin, sobering you up slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks, offended, his hands pausing against your spine.

“It means. Joel, that you tend to overreact over little things.”

“Little things?!” His voice raises, “This is a huge thing!” He yells, making you turn around on the top of the toilet seat to face him. “It’s a big cut, so what? It was fine until Mallory slapped me and shoved me onto the ground! You should be angry at her, not me.” You seethe, the alcohol making your bite not as strong as you want. “I’m angry at the both of you! Mallory is a bitter woman who is obsessed with the idea of me liking her, and I’ll deal with how she treats you tomorrow, but you,” he pauses, lowering his voice as he tries to calm himself down. Though his volume is quieter, his breathing is still heavy as he steadies himself to answer. “...you are a fuckin’ idiot for not telling me about something like that.”

You scoff, “I’m an idiot? You’re an asshole.” You stand up, “You already made me feel like shit about that altercation with those raiders. If I told you about the cut on top of that, you would have started a fight about me not going on patrols anymore.”

He laughs mirthlessly, “Damn right I would have. I didn’t want you going out there when we were out there!” The stress is evident in his voice as he steps closer.

“Okay, I’m drunk, so that makes zero sense.” You answer confused, unable to process his words at the moment. “You just like having control over what I do. You treat me like a child, like I don’t know what’s going on ever and that you’re the only one who gets a say in my life.” Your words are less slurred that earlier, but you’re still nowhere near sober enough to be having this conversation. “You act like you care, but you really don’t. You just want me around because you’re too scared to have your life change in anyway you can’t control. You see me as a burden to take care of, you think I can’t take care of myself and you don’t want me.” Half the things you’re saying aren’t true, you know he’s aware of your ability to protect yourself, but in this moment you just want to yell at him. You just want to make him feel something for you other than the indifference you believe he feels. Something. Anything that means he cares in the way you want him to, the way you’re too scared to admit to even yourself, let alone him.

His jaw clenches, suddenly aware of the state you’re in as you stand in front of him. His eyes drift to your completely exposes top half, lingering on your breasts for a moment before moving back up to your eyes, schooling his features. “Darlin’... if you believe all that, then you really are an idiot.” He says flatly, internally trying to calm the inner turmoil brewing within him. He wants to tell you everything. He wants to admit why he worries, why he’s so protective, why he gets aggravated when you don’t listen to him wanting to keep you safe. “Put your shirt on and go to bed. We’ll talk about this in the morning.” His voice leaves no room for argument, but you try anyway.

“There you go again! Telling me what to do, when I don’t want you to.” You turn, grabbing your shirt and pulling it over your head. “There’s only one reason I’d let you tell me what to do, but you don’t want that.” You mumble to yoursel, bitterly, not expecting him to hear all of what you said. When you turn, he’s stalking toward you, backing you up against the wall, his hand reaching to your waist to stop you right before your wounded spine hits the hard surface. He looks down, inches from your face, eyes almost black.

“You don’t tell me what I want. You don’t know what I do or don’t want.” His voice, at a dangerous level, his breath hot on your neck as he moves to whisper in your ear. “Now, you’re gonna be a good girl, go to bed, and we’ll talk about all of this in the morning.” You gasp at his firmness but you still go to protest. He leaves you no room for argument. “No. No arguments. All I want to hear is ‘Yes, Joel.’ and then go to bed.” He drops his gaze, looking at you to make sure you’re understanding him while waiting for your reply.

“Yes, Joel…” You answer with a small voice. He nods and moves to the side to let you pass by and exit the bathroom. You move slowly to your bedroom, still drunk and even more confused as you drop to your bed with a heavy sigh. As soon as your head hits your pillow, you’re out.

The stabbing pain in your head reminds you of the overconsumption of liquor you had the night beforehand. With your face smushed against your pillow, your fingers tighten around the sheets as the room spins around you. With a groan, your attempt to sit up is over powered by the drastic shift of your insides, a tidal wave of nausea filling up your stomach, weighing you down like a flood filling a once empty pool. As you manage to shift onto your back, the memories of last night play in your mind. Each moment more vivid than the last as they project themselves onto the ceiling above you.

“Fuck…” You mumble to yourself, the heels of your palms pushing against your eyes like a reset button you so desperately need to work, but knowing it won’t. After another five minutes of staring at the ceiling, you manage to sit up, closing your eyes until you gain your equilibrium once again. With an awkward stretch, a sharp pain shoots across your back, making you yelp like a wounded puppy, and ignore the nausea as you shoot out of bed and rush to the mirror attached to the back of your door. You twist your torso with a hiss, attempting to lift your shirt at the same time to see what’s causing the burning sensation on your back.

When you manage to lift the well-worn fabric, you’re met with a giant piece of gauze on your skin, stretching over your spine. With the sight, more of the night comes rushing back to you. You let your head fall back, eyes closed in regret and frustration before looking back into the mirror. Something on the nightstand catches your attention, a scrap of paper. Crossing the room, your chest tightens when you read the words.

We need to talk -Joel.

Next Chapter

[gingermintpepper]

"I wanted, more than anything, to make you proud." No longer does his son bend his head. He meets him in his eyes - richest brown to clearest blue. Zeus cannot help but search for that little toddling thing that once sough refuge at his knees. When did Ares grow so large? When did his shoulders get so broad? "Why can't you just be proud of me?" What is it that Phoebus always says? That children can tell their parents have favourites even when they themselves don't know? It almost brings a smile to his face. How alike they both are, even now. Mirrors, the two of them, and they don't even know it. "What good would my pride do you now, Ares?" Ares recoils as though he's been struck. As ever, it is the wrong thing to say. Maybe there's never been a right thing to say. Or maybe the both of them are fools. Caught up in this perpetual dog-and-horse show; the son who wants his father's approval and the father who does not know what that means. All the wisdom in the cosmos can't give him that knowledge. "...Good talk, Father. Truly." That blood-red hair is a windswept flag as Ares leaves. Zeus swears it had been only up to his nape when they'd started speaking. The door slams shut, it rattles all his charts and maps, the vases with Hera's flowers sat pretty on his table. Then, there is silence. Then, there is regret. Well, Metis, look what a mess he's made now.

[kiyomitakada]

[to the tune of where is the justice's first lines] this world is rotting from the surface to the core / am i the only one whose life feels like a chore / this whole society needs someone for repairs every day's a little worse and i don't think anyone cares

[narugen]

hoshimina beach date….. please let them rest 😭🙏

(related art)

[thefrogdalorian]

Having of those moments where I wish to yeet the like button into the sun or maybe make it so there was setting you could turn on so that people can only reblog posts (even better with the minimum requirement of adding at least one tag)!!

It's kind of absurd that one of my fics is getting close to 500 notes while simultaneously being one I've had the least actual human interactions come from. Like...... come on, that's now how it should be AT ALL!

Don't get me wrong, I'm so thrilled people are clearly finding it and I guess enjoying it(??) but just having endless likes without people letting me know what they enjoyed about it or even if they liked it kind of makes me sad. That's not why I want to share my writing here!

I love having those little human connections with others. I don't ever want my writing to feel transactional. I would love to talk to more people about things I've written. It's truly one of the best feelings and I would hate to lose that, the more I write or the more notes my fics get. Please don't be shy!! I get the social anxiety, but there is no reason to be. I am truly just a Din Djarin obsessed loser.

Anyway, whine over. I don't want to focus on the negatives here and I appreciate every single person who has ever left a positive interaction with something I've written. You are truly a light!

[piningpercussionist]

... first and foremost, I would like to apologize for any discomfort I've caused you, Kim. now, I'm not the most... socially apt person. but I really, sincerely, do *not* mean you any harm. I'm not intending to come off as creepy, I can, however, understand why you'd be uncomfortable or perhaps concerned by these gifts and all. (I mean, shit. if somebody mailed me a painting of me dancing with them, I'd be weirded out too, flattered, granted. but weirded out.) I never really expected anything to happen, I guess I just... felt the need to tell you how I feel about you, get *that* off my chest, at least. even if you don't feel the same way that I do. (which is fine, and understandable! I get it.) as for why I've sent you gifts... I suppose I just wanted to show you how I felt with something other than a note or whatever. *just* a note feels kinda cheap. I'd rather give you something that's at least a bit useful to you (hence those custom made drumsticks.). I hope you find success in whatever future endeavors you do. and I hope that you don't find this note too off-putting. enclosed is something that I hope you and the rest of Sex Bob-Omb like. -sincerely, the guy who said he had a crush on you. *enclosed is a folded, custom made Sex Bob-Omb poster, it's actually quite well made. it's an homage to the album 'Ramones', by The Ramones, featuring Sex Bob-Omb's lineup leaning back against a brick wall. unlike the original album cover, it's in color and not black-and-white.*

ooc: answering this as though it is in the nebulous but near future! I just didn't want to leave this lingering any longer; sorry for the delay! Hopefully I have left things vague enough for myself to wedge it back in the timeline of the blog later lol

Kim lets out a long, weary sigh as she finally gets back to the relative peace of her room, taking a moment to rest back against her shut door and scrub at her face. The energy and emotional exhaustion of everything that had happened between the last time she'd been here and now seemed to be sinking into her bones, and she wanted little more than to sink to her knees right there and just be comatose for a while.

She knew from experience, however, that the floor was cold and miserable like that, especially this time of year; so, instead, she opts to shrug off her coat and toss it blindly in the direction of her desk, trudging towards her bed. She closes her eyes and lets herself fall forward into it, ready to finally, properly rest, maybe even unpack her thoughts about everything- but then, she hears the crinkle of paper as she makes contact with the sheets, and her eyes fly open while she rolls to the side and, thankfully, off of the object.

She blinks down at an envelope that had been tossed haphazardly on the bed, probably by Hollie, and after a moment recognizes the style of it. Oh, that one guy... how long has this been here? Did I miss this before I left? She hesitates briefly, mostly just in resistance to the idea of having to continue actively thinking, but sighs and sits up anyway. She won't be able to relax if it's just sitting there, tempting her.

Propping up her pillows, she leans back against them and opens it, pulling out both the letter and the folded poster. She looks over the letter first, and after a moment, lets out another sigh, this time a short, guilty thing. The words feel genuine, so she can't help but feel slightly bad about her previous response, but... Well, if they knew anything about her, they might've expected it. She tries to take comfort in that fact, glancing over in the general direction she left the drumsticks. Then, she pulls out her phone and snaps a picture of the letter, opening her blog to begin her reply.

Hey, sorry this too so long to get back to. Life and things; with how people talk, maybe you've heard about the party by now? Julie's ragers, am I right? The apology is appreciated... and accepted. I think I believe you, especially given you're acknowledging the creep factor there. I'm not really a big gift person, I guess, so it was a little off putting just to begin with, anything else aside. I think you've already given me more than my parents got me for Christmas, and I don't even have a name for you beyond "Crush Guy." But, hey, it's far from the most uncomfortable I've been in these situations, so you're actually doing fairly alright in that regard. Thank you for the well wishes; I'll probably be needing them, ha! And no, I think you've quelled the fires against you, for now. (Joking- this is why I do the stupid videos...)

She pauses briefly, looking over at the newest gift and carefully unfolds it, trying to work out the creases as she goes. Once it's unveiled, she stops to look at it for a long while, a bit surprised by how much she genuinely likes it. She sets it aside with a mental note to hang it up later- ideally before their next band practice. She wouldn't be attaching a photo of it to the post, to help keep the surprise til then.

And again for the gifts. I think the rest of the band will really dig this one, honestly- especially Stills. It's very nice.

She gives it a once over before nodding to herself and hitting send, content. Then, setting the letter and the poster further aside, as to not crumple them, Kim moves to curl up at the top of her bed in a tight ball, eyes sliding shut peacefully. I'll think about things later. Ball time, she thinks idly, and then thankfully, blissfully, proceeds to continue thinking nothing at all.

[thawthebeez]

HAIKYUU ESSAY TIME YAYAYAYA

today's essay idea was brought upon me in the midst of my post-athletics recovery and WILL be my most batshit insane one yet. less facts more feelings. this essay is HEAVILY CENTERED around kghn so it'll only be, like, 15% factually accurate, 85% insane. because there are definitely other non-relationship focused nuances in what i'm about to show you that i shall be choosing to ignore- i'm just clarifying that i DO know they're there, i'm just crazy.

Let us begin.

to provide context, i'll be speaking about Season 1 Episode 23. this is the first official Seijoh match, which they're tied with Karasuno 1-all. this is the final set and the tension is to typical dramatized Haikyuu standard.

Kageyama has just set the ball to Asahi, of which he successfully pulled off a pipe attack, earning Karasuno yet another point. we now proceed to take a look into Kageyama's thoughts post-point:

i'd say this is pretty standard for Kageyama. his game sense when it comes to volleyball is off the charts. dude could probably perfectly play a game in his SLEEP if he really wanted to. knowing where the best attacks will come from, how he'll set the ball- all of that is second nature to him.

and that, my friends, is what makes this line all the more interesting:

because, yes, Hinata did call for the ball, but based on what Kageyama just mentioned, tossing the ball to Hinata should have been ruled out entirely by this point. hell, Kageyama wasn't even FACING Hinata when he called for the ball. Kageyama was literally in the perfect position, perfect timing, perfect EVERYTHING to give it to Asahi.

Yet he nearly gave it to Hinata.

and the fact that he nearly gave it to Hinata is insane enough on its own, but the way Kageyama puts it here: "He nearly took the set away from me." emphasis on the "took [it] away"

Hinata, just by calling out "send it my way," was enough to take the instincts that Kageyama has had and been fostering for his entire lifetime and just throw them all away. Hinata has taken all the game sense Kageyama has built up just by calling for the ball. THAT'S THE KIND OF IMPACT HE HAS ON KAGEYAMA.

(additionally: this kind of impact is almost expected considering the fact that Hinata has established himself as someone that Kageyama can always fall on, having promised to hit any toss he sends his way regardless of how fast or shitty it is.)

one call. one "send it my way." one jump from a place that Kageyama can only see out of the very corner of his eye. that's all it takes.

to paraphrase insanely: with respect to Hinata, all it takes to completely bend Kageyama- an absolute PRODIGY of a player- to your will is to simply call for the ball. that's it. everything could be perfect to send it left, but if Hinata's going right and he wants it, all he has to do is call for it and there's a chance Kageyama will send it to the right. one call. no need to argue.

and then we also get this absolute BLESSING of a frame. absolutely stunning, beautiful, amazing. i eat it up every time.

(the nuance that normal people would see here is essentially: Hinata is such a great decoy that he can even lure his own teammates. which. like. yeah, that also happens. Kageyama is definitely being lured in. i've just decided to take the less normal route and fixate on a completely arbitrary yet still very important aspect of the show- aka Kageyama and Hinata's relationship.)

this scene in particular also ties in nicely to that one bit in season 3 where Oikawa goes to watch the Shiratorizawa vs. Karasuno match and says "Hinata's got Tobio wrapped around his finger" OUGH that one always gets me.

anyways: this is basically one of the five occasions (that i can think of off the top of my head) in which the show points out that Hinata is the one calling the shots here. like, it's never been "Kageyama tosses and Hinata spikes," it's always been "Hinata spikes wherever the fuck he wants to, Kageyama just has to get the ball to him" WHICH IS ABSOLUTELY WILD IF YOU ASK ME

idk. they just. yeah :) they're so cool :)

[ekingston]

SO HERE IS THE WHOLE STORY (SO FAR).

I am on my knees begging you to reblog this post and to stop reblogging the original ones I sent out yesterday. This is the complete account with all the most recent info; the other one is just sending people down senselessly panicked avenues that no longer lead anywhere.

IN SHORT

Cliff Weitzman, CEO of Speechify and (aspiring?) voice actor, used AI to scrape thousands of popular, finished works off AO3 to list them on his own for-profit website and in his attached app. He did this without getting any kind of permission from the authors of said work or informing AO3. Obviously.

When fandom at large was made aware of his theft and started pushing back, Weitzman issued a non-apology on the original social media posts—using 

his dyslexia; 

his intent to implement a tip-system for the plagiarized authors; and 

a sudden willingness to take down the work of every author who saw my original social media posts and emailed him individually with a ‘valid’ claim,

as reasons we should allow him to continue monetizing fanwork for his own financial gain.

When we less-than-kindly refused, he took down his ‘apologies’ as well as his website (allegedly��it’s possible that our complaints to his web host, the deluge of emails he received or the unanticipated traffic brought it down, since there wasn’t any sort of official statement made about it), and when it came back up several hours later, all of the work formerly listed in the fan fiction category was no longer there. 

THE TAKEAWAYS

1. Cliff Weitzman (aka Ofek Weitzman) is a scumbag with no qualms about taking fanwork without permission, feeding it to AI and monetizing it for his own financial gain; 

2. Fandom can really get things done when it wants to, and 

3. Our fanworks appear to be hidden, but they’re NOT DELETED from Weitzman’s servers, and independently published, original works are still listed without the authors' permission. We need to hold this man responsible for his theft, keep an eye on both his current and future endeavors, and take action immediately when he crosses the line again. 

THE TIMELINE, THE DETAILS, THE SCREENSHOTS (behind the cut)

Sunday night, December 22nd 2024, I noticed an influx in visitors to my fic You & Me & Holiday Wine. When I searched the title online, hoping to find out where they came from, a new listing popped up (third one down, no less):

This listing is still up today, by the way, though now when you follow the link to word-stream, it just brings you to the main site. (Also, to be clear, this was not the cause for the influx of traffic to my fic; word-stream did not link back to the original work anywhere.)

I followed the link to word-stream, where to my horror Y&M&HW was listed in its entirety—though, beyond the first half of the first chapter, behind a paywall—along with a link promising to take me—through an app downloadable on the Apple Store—to an AI-narrated audiobook version. When I searched word-stream itself for my ao3 handle I found both of my multi-chapter fics were listed this way:

Because the tags on my fics (which included genres* and characters, but never the original IPs**) weren’t working, I put ‘Kara Danvers’ into the search bar and discovered that many more supercorp fics (Supergirl TV fandom, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor pairing) were listed.

I went looking online for any mention of word-stream and AI plagiarism (the covers—as well as the ridiculously inflated number of reviews and ratings—made it immediately obvious that AI fuckery was involved), but found almost nothing: only one single Reddit post had been made, and it received (at that time) only a handful of upvotes and no advice. 

I decided to make a tumblr post to bring the supercorp fandom up to speed about the theft. I draw as well as write for fandom and I’ve only ever had to deal with art theft—which has a clear set of steps to take depending on where said art was reposted—and I was at a loss regarding where to start in this situation.

After my post went up I remembered Project Copy Knight, which is worth commending for the work they’ve done to get fic stolen from AO3 taken down from monetized AI 'audiobook’ YouTube accounts. I reached out to @echoekhi, asking if they’d heard of this site and whether they could advise me on how to get our works taken down.

While waiting for a reply I looked into Copy Knight’s methods and decided to contact OTW’s legal department:

And then I went to bed.

By morning, tumblr friends @makicarn and @fazedlight as well as a very helpful tumblr anon had seen my post and done some very productive sleuthing:

@echoekhi had also gotten back to me, advising me, as expected, to contact the OTW. So I decided to sit tight until I got a response from them.

That response came only an hour or so later: 

Which was 100% understandable, but still disappointing—I doubted a handful of individual takedown requests would accomplish much, and I wasn’t eager to share my given name and personal information with Cliff Weitzman himself, which is unavoidable if you want to file a DMCA.

I decided to take it to Reddit, hoping it would gain traction in the wider fanfic community, considering so many fandoms were affected. My Reddit posts (with the updates at the bottom as they were emerging) can be found here and here.

A helpful Reddit user posted a guide on how users could go about filing a DMCA against word-stream here (to wobbly-at-best results)

A different helpful Reddit user signed up to access insight into word-streams pricing. Comment is here.

Smells unbelievably scammy, right? In addition to those audacious prices—though in all fairness any amount of money would be audacious considering every work listed is accessible elsewhere for free—my dyscalculia is screaming silently at the sight of that completely unnecessary amount of intentionally obscured numbers.

Speaking of which! As soon as the post on r/AO3—and, as a result, my original tumblr post—began taking off properly, sometime around 1 pm, jumpscare! A notification that a tumblr account named @cliffweitzman had commented on my post, and I got a bit mad about the gist of his message :

Fortunately he caught plenty of flack in the comments from other users (truly you should check out the comment section, it is extremely gratifying and people are making tremendously good points), in response to which, of course, he first tried to both reiterate and renegotiate his point in a second, longer comment (which I didn’t screenshot in time so I’m sorry for the crappy notification email formatting):

which he then proceeded to also post to Reddit (this is another Reddit user’s screenshot, I didn’t see it at all, the notifications were moving too fast for me to follow by then)

... where he got a roughly equal amount of righteously furious replies. (Check downthread, they're still there, all the way at the bottom.)

After which Cliff went ahead & deleted his messages altogether. 

It’s not entirely clear whether his account was suspended by Reddit soon after or whether he deleted it himself, but considering his tumblr account is still intact, I assume it’s the former. He made a handful of sock puppet accounts to play around with for a while, both on Reddit and Tumblr, only one of which I have a screenshot of, but since they all say roughly the same thing, you’re not missing much:

And then word-stream started throwing a DNS error.

That lasted for a good number of hours, which was unfortunately right around the time that a lot of authors first heard about the situation and started asking me individually how to find out whether their work was stolen too. I do not have that information and I am unclear on the perimeters Weitzman set for his AI scraper, so this is all conjecture: it LOOKS like the fics that were lifted had three things in common:

They were completed works;

They had over several thousand kudos on AO3; and

They were written by authors who had actively posted or updated work over the past year.

If anyone knows more about these perimeters or has info that counters my observation, please let me know!

I finally thought to check/alert evil Twitter during this time, and found out that the news was doing the rounds there already. I made a quick thread summarizing everything that had happened just in case. You can find it here.

I went to Bluesky too, where fandom was doing all the heavy lifting for me already, so I just reskeeted, as you do, and carried on.

Sometime in the very early evening, word-stream went back up—but the fan fiction category was nowhere to be seen. Tentative joy and celebration!***

That’s when several users—the ones who had signed up for accounts to gain intel and had accessed their own fics that way—reported that their work could still be accessed through their history. Relevant Reddit post here.

Sooo—

We’re obviously not done. The fanwork that was stolen by Weitzman may be inaccessible through his website right now, but they aren’t actually gone. And the fact that Weitzman wasn’t willing to get rid of them altogether means he still has plans for them. 

This was my final edit on my Reddit post before turning off notifications, and it's pretty much where my head will be at for at least the foreseeable future:

Please feel free to add info in the comments, make your own posts, take whatever action you want to take to protect your work. I only beg you—seriously, I’m on my knees here—to not give up like I saw a handful of people express the urge to do. Keep sharing your creative work and remain vigilant and stay active to make sure we can continue to do so freely. Visit your favorite fics, and the ones you’ve kept in your ‘marked for later’ lists but never made time to read, and leave kudos, leave comments, support your fandom creatives, celebrate podficcers and support AO3. We created this place and it’s our responsibility to keep it alive and thriving for as long as we possibly can.

Also FUCK generative AI. It has NO place in fandom spaces.

THE 'SMALL' PRINT (some of it in all caps):

*Weitzman knew what he was doing and can NOT claim ignorance. One, it’s pretty basic kindergarten stuff that you don’t steal some other kid’s art project and present it as your own only to act surprised when they protest and then tell the victim that they should have told you sooner that they didn’t want their project stolen. And two, he was very careful never to list the IPs these fanworks were based on, so it’s clear he was at least familiar enough with the legalities to not get himself in hot water with corporate lawyers. Fucking over fans, though, he figured he could get away with that. 

**A note about the AI that Weitzman used to steal our work: it’s even greasier than it looks at first glance. It’s not just the method he used to lift works off AO3 and then regurgitate onto his own website and app. Looking beyond the untold horrors of his AI-generated cover ‘art’, in many cases these covers attempt to depict something from the fics in question that can’t be gleaned from their summaries alone. In addition, my fics (and I assume the others, as well) were listed with generated genres; tags that did not appear anywhere in or on my fic on AO3 and were sometimes scarily accurate and sometimes way off the mark. I remember You & Me & Holiday Wine had ‘found family’ (100% correct, but not tagged by me as such) and I believe The Shape of Soup was listed as, among others, ‘enemies to friends to lovers’ and ‘love triangle’ (both wildly inaccurate). Even worse, not all the fic listed (as authors on Reddit pointed out) came with their original summaries at all. Often the entire summary was AI-generated. All of these things make it very clear that it was an all-encompassing scrape—not only were our fics stolen, they were also fed word-for-word into the AI Weitzman used and then analyzed to suit Weitzman’s needs. This means our work was literally fed to this AI to basically do with whatever its other users want, including (one assumes) text generation. 

***Fan fiction appears to have been made (largely) inaccessible on word-stream at this time, but I’m hearing from several authors that their original, independently published work, which is listed at places like Kindle Unlimited, DOES still appear in word-stream’s search engine. This obviously hurts writers, especially independent ones, who depend on these works for income and, as a rule, don’t have a huge budget or a legal team with oceans of time to fight these battles for them. If you consider yourself an author in the broader sense, beyond merely existing online as a fandom author, beyond concerns that your own work is immediately at risk, DO NOT STOP MAKING NOISE ABOUT THIS.

PLEASE check my later versions of this post via my main page to make sure you have the latest version of this post before you reblog. All the information I’ve been able to gather is in my reblogs below, and it's frustrating to see the old version getting passed around, sending people on wild goose chases.

Thank you all so much!

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)