#i'm trying to get back to some stuff that i've been neglecting

[moonchild-in-blue]

Actually Cuco is so good and I live in shame for not having listened to him more last year. All because of a WHITE MAN. SHAME, SHAME FOR 100 YEARS.

[thedreadvampy]

unfortunately the world is too fucking messed up so I am currently unable to give a shit about how messed up everything is because it's all too big and if I get upset about any of it my entire ability to be a person will come crashing in

normal service will resume as soon as possible

[writingforstraykids]

I feel kind of angsty today and I’m in the mood to just read something that makes me cry so hear me out.Minho/Chan or Felix argue with you because you feel neglected and such in because they are so busy and barley make time for you and you just want to feel a little affection and they are also upset because they are stressed and kind of blow up and say stuff they shouldn’t have and evereyone is upset.Maybe they solve it (or they don’t if you want to be mean).But I really need something gut wrenching.

(Also don’t rush and take your time with writing this if you even want to<3)

-🎀

I've decided to be extra mean and make this a poly mess so you have all of the boys in it😂😂 I hope you like it and I don't make you cry too hard...also if you ever wanna talk, just let me know hun🥺🖤

You don't need me

Pairing: Minchanlix x femReader | Minho x Chan x Felix x femReader

Word Count: 2391

Warnings/Tags: angst, argument, insecurities, feeling neglected, feeling left out, loneliness, chan's a little stressed meanie, Minlix is...idk🤣

bold indicates English

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Minho races down the stairs, cursing quietly as he drops his keys. He quickly bends down to pick them up, and his glasses, which he only quickly pushed up his nose before, fall onto the floor.

"Are you okay?" you ask, amused.

"Obviously not," he says, clearly annoyed.

"Well, can I help?" you ask gently, and Minho firmly shakes his head, grabbing his sneakers.

"I'm late; there's nothing you can do about that," he tells you, and you're about to answer, but he cuts you off. "Yongbok! I swear if you don't move your ass down here in five seconds, I'll drive without you!" he yells upstairs, making you flinch at the volume of his voice.

"Is Channie already-?"

"Don't think he slept here tonight," Minho shakes his head and grabs his bag. "FELIX!"

"Minho, for fucks sake!" Felix yells back and appears at the top of the stairs. "I swear, this man is driving me crazy. As if those five seconds would make any difference at this point, my God. It's Hyunjin, he won't kill us!" he curses as he walks downstairs, his hair messily falling around his head.

"Don't you start talking English now and think I don't know that means you're talking shit about me," Minho tells him, throwing his sneakers at him. "Put those on, we're late."

"Well, if someone wouldn't have taken so long waking up today," Felix comments and rolls his eyes at him. He looks up, startled, as you carefully brush his hair back for him, trying to fix the mess. "Not now, Y/nnie, we have to leave," he gently shakes you off.

You pull back your hand and nod gently, glancing at Minho, who's grabbing his stuff and unlocking the door. "Bye, see you later!" he shouts and waves you, stepping outside. Only two seconds later, he's back. "Felix, I swear I will kick you."

"Fuck off," Felix curses under his breath and grabs his things, waving at you and slipping outside as well. The door falls closed, and you're standing still for a moment.

"Well, good morning and goodbye to you too. I love you too," you whisper to yourself and sigh softly. Turning around you spot their packed lunch boxes still on the table. "Shit," you curse and throw your head back, frustrated. You know they barely make time to eat unless you made it. Well, maybe you could visit them later, get your kiss, and check on Chan.

You stand still in the suddenly very empty house and try to remember the last time they were all home and you've spent some quality time together. It feels like months and you soon realize it has been. One of them has always been either working or not even in the country. Sometimes it really doesn't feel like you're living with your three boyfriends but some roommates who stop by now and then.

"Oh, come on, don't be so dramatic," you shake your head and chew on your lower lip. You don't know when the last time was you had breakfast all together, you got a kiss goodbye from all of them or they came back in time for dinner. Needless to say, no one has properly touched you in weeks as well. Were you that easy to forget? Are you just another assignment to get done on their daily to-do lists? Something they could just reschedule to another day if they can't make time for it?

Sighing softly you make your way upstairs and rummage through your closet, searching for a nice outfit. You find a cute summer dress they all love and decide on that. After a quick shower, you fix your hair and make yourself presentable.

-

Only a little later, you're walking down the hallway to their practice room and gently knock at the door, letting yourself inside. Minho demonstrates some steps as Felix and Hyunjin watch him closely and try to mirror his movements. Felix messes up a step, and Minho starts laughing at him, chasing him through the room. He wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him against his chest, kissing his cheek. "Yongbokie, come on," he giggles softly, and Felix tries to squirm away from him.

"I'm sorry, hyungie," he laughs, eyes shining bright. "I promise I'll do better."

"Once you're done flirting, we could continue?" Hyunjin groans playfully annoyed.

Minho turns with Felix in his hold, and they face you. Surprise laces their features. "Y/n? What are you doing here?" Minho asks confused.

"Oh, you forgot your lunch today, and I didn't know how long you'd be at the company," you tell them, and Minho nods gently.

"Thanks," he tells you and lets go of Felix, walking over to his phone.

Felix stretches tiredly and watches Minho as he scrolls through his phone. "You wanna go again?"

Minho glances at his watch before nodding. "We should. We have like an hour before the rest join us." You nod gently to yourself and put their lunch down on the bench next to their stuff. "Chan's at the studio," he tells you before turning the music back on.

You watch them stunned as they continue practicing and don't really notice the compassionate smile Hyunjin gives you. Your throat tightens, and you quickly make your way outside. You're clearly not needed here.

You knock at the door, and Jisung opens the door, smiling at you brightly. "Hey, Y/n," he beams at you and pulls you into a hug. "Chan hyung, look who's here."

"Ji, I told you no visitors right now," he groans and pulls off his headphones with a heavy sigh. He spots you in the door and nods. "Oh, hi."

"Hi," you say quietly, holding on tightly to the box in your hand. "I just wanted to bring you your lunch. I won't disturb you for long."

"Ah, okay," he says and gestures toward the small table next to the door. "Just put it there, I'll eat later. Thanks, Y/n."

"You're welcome," you nod and are about to leave again but hesitate for a moment.

"Anything else?" Chan asks, not even looking at you.

"Will you be home tonight?" you ask gently, and he raises his eyebrows, still not looking over.

"Why?"

"Because you weren't yesterday," you say and see Jisung's confused frown at that.

"Hyung, you promised," Changbin sighs from his spot on the sofa, rolling his eyes at you in secrecy.

"Y/n, we've been over this before. If I get done in time, I'll be there; if not, then not," he announces, almost a little annoyed.

You scoff at him and put down the box heavily. "Sorry for asking, I guess," you spit out and open the door, stopping when you hear him groan.

"Stop being so pushy, my god," Chan rolls his eyes and looks at you for the first time today. "I'll be there. Are you happy now?"

"You know what?" you ask lowly. "You can stay here for another night. It makes no difference if you guys are there or not, you only have eyes for each other or work. Sometimes I wonder why my three roommates even need me."

"What the fuck did you just say?" Chan asks quietly and stares at you.

"You fucking heard me," you spit out with tears burning in your eyes. "At this rate, I'm just part of the interior. You don't say good morning, you don't say goodnight, you're not home for dinner, you're not there. And if you are you're busy with work or talk to Minho and Felix only. You don't need me right now, and that fucking hurts, Chan."

"Okay, that's enough delusional behavior for one day," Chan gets up with a groan and shakes his head at you. "We'll talk about this tonight, but right now, I really don't have time for this."

"Don't bother," you shake your head at him, heart breaking. "I'll take myself back out."

"Hyung," Changbin sighs a little, but Chan ignores him.

"Come on, Y/nnie, I'll take you to your car, yeah?" Jisung says gently and wraps his arm around you, pulling you outside. "He doesn't mean it. He's being dumb."

"Yes, he does; they all do," you sniffle, and Jisung frowns at you.

"What do you mean?" he asks worriedly.

"It's been like this for weeks now. They all rush out of the house and act like I don't exist anymore," you tell him, hot tears falling down your cheeks. "I know they're stressed; I know they have a lot to do, but is it really too much to ask?"

"No, Y/nnie, it isn't," he shakes his head and pulls you into a tight hug. "I'm sure what you're describing is true. They sometimes forget everything around them when things here get rough. I'm sorry, hun," he says and soothingly rubs your back. He thinks for a moment before shaking his head and gently patting your back. "Come on, they'll never learn if they don't see what it does to you."

"No, Ji, they're busy-" you protest through tears.

"I don't care," he shakes his head and leads you down the hallway. He rips open the door to the room and pulls you with him to Minho's phone, turning the music off. "Hyunjin, you come with me. You two have something to fix here."

Minho blinks at him, confused, and his face falls, seeing you crying in his arms. "Y/nnie, kitten," he says worriedly and quickly makes his way over. "Honey, what's wrong?" he asks gently, cupping your face and searching your eyes. "Hey, look at me," he says softly.

"Y-You don't need me," you hiccup, and Minho frowns at you.

"What do you mean?" he asks, confused, and Felix steps next to you, gently rubbing your lower back.

"Babe?" Felix asks worriedly as you don't answer.

"Go get Channie," Minho tells him, eyes widening as you furiously shake your head. Chan is usually the best to comfort you when you are really upset. "No? Why, kitten? What happened?"

"Channie s-says I'm delusional," you sob quietly as Minho sits down on the bench and pulls you into his lap.

"What?" Felix asks, confused. "Did you two get into a fight?" he asks, sitting down next to the two of you.

You bury your face in Minho's chest, so desperate for such a simple gesture. Sobs shake your body as you tell them about what happened with Chan and how neglected you felt during those past weeks. It all flows freely now, and they both listen quietly, not interrupting you once. Minho's hand rubs your back soothingly, and Felix fondles your hair gently.

"Oh kitten, I'm so sorry," Minho apologizes sincerely once you're done. "I had no idea you were suffering that much because of us."

"You're right, babe, we're so busy we sometimes forget about you or act a little harsh," Felix nods guiltily and leans down to kiss your head. "I'm so sorry we made you feel like that. You don't deserve that one bit, my dear."

"I know I'm being dramatic," you sniffle into Minho's shirt.

"No, you're not," he shakes his head and rests his head against yours. You really aren't. I didn't even say goodbye properly today. Or good morning," he says, his voice laced heavily with guilt. "And...I should've told you how beautiful you look today the minute you stepped inside."

You giggle sadly and pull back. "Yeah?"

"Mhm, our pretty girl," Felix adds fondly as Minho wipes your cheeks.

"We love you so much, even if we act like idiots sometimes," Minho promises and kisses your forehead.

"I love you guys too," you tell them with a sad little smile.

"I'll go and get Channie, okay?" Felix asks softly, and you nod timidly. He giggles at the comment Minho makes and quickly makes his way to the studio. He doesn't knock at the door and steps inside. "Channie babe, we need you."

"Not now, Lix," Chan shakes his head, writing down some things for Jisung.

"Minho said if you don't move your ass over there in two minutes top he won't have sex with you for the next three months. Our tour comes up, you don't wanna risk that," Felix says with a straight face, making Changbin and Jisung crack up.

Chan glances up at him suspiciously and sees Felix isn't joking. "Oh my fucking God, fine!"

Felix walks next to him and glances at Chan thoughtfully. "Push the group back for a moment, yeah? Stray Kids doesn't matter now, she does."

Chan's face falls a little and he straightens up as they reach the door. "Yeah, okay," he says quietly and steps inside with him. You're curled up in Minho's lap on the floor by now as he's playing with your hair. Tear streaks paint your cheeks, your eyes are reddish, and you're sniffling a little. "Baby, I'm sorry," Chan sighs and gets down on the floor next to you. "I'm stressed out, I didn't sleep last night, and I took it out on you. I'm an idiot, please forgive me?" he asks guiltily and hesitantly takes your hand. He must've really hurt you if you went to Minho and Felix about it. You usually prefer to settle arguments privately.

"It's not just you," Minho shakes his head, and Felix sums it up for him. Chan nods along, and his heart gets heavier with every word leaving his boyfriend's lips.

"Oh, Y/nnie baby," he whispers with tears in his eyes. "Can I give you a hug?" You nod timidly and climb off Minho's lap and into his arms instead. Chan pulls you in tight, burying his face in your shoulder. You relax in his hold and close your eyes. No matter how mad or hurt you were, you would never deny one of Chan's healing long hugs. "I'm so sorry, you're right, we've messed up big time. I love you so much, yeah? You're so beautiful and kind, and I could never stop loving you, baby. Never. I will do better, I promise."

"I love you too," you whisper and exhale softly, your heart feeling a lot lighter now that you've told them all. Minho and Felix join your hug and kiss your hair. "You'll be home tonight?" you ask timidly.

"Yeah, we'll all be home," Chan assures you kindly and squeezes you.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

@atinyniki @mal-lunar-28 @lilmisssona @aaasia111 @galaxycatdrawz @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @malfoygalaxies @rebecca-johnson-28 @michelle4eve @lixie-phoria @gxtwllsn @xxstrayland

[ablobwhowrites]

As soon you brought up Stardew Valley Being yanderes. I AM IN LOVE WITH THE IDEAA! I am on my knees and begging for some headcanons! Any character will do!

(Why have one when you can have all the characters? we gotta do all characters as yandere's, and the others platonic)

Yandere Elliot is basically that notebook scene from turning red and no one can change my mind. He basically writes romance novels about you and him (bro has a whole library by now). He basica

Depending on it, Hailey would ask you to come and take some pictures with her and mostly gossip about her old life in the city and other stuff. She secretly takes pictures of you when you both know and don't know, she might make those picture calenders of you but who knows (she knows)

Shane is kinda like a cat, both wanting to be by you and maybe even date you but at the same time he doesn't think it'll work out due to him always drinking and how the first time you two met he was snappy and didn't really want you near him (now bro is daydreaming about you two together) as sometimes he comes over giving you things or even when special events are coming up he goes to your mail box and tries to put a letter asking you to go with him but he never does, only a dream for you to be his partner at the flower dance

Alex would try to impress you with his strength or if you up to it, how he is the best at sports and especially gridball. He's always wanting to impress you to win you over and well him and the other bachelor's and bachelorettes get into fights over who gets you to go with them to dances like the flower dance.

sebastiane would invite you over and hangout with you in his room (playing forntnite) or play minecraft with you as a little way to bond. (He came back from mining for coal and ends up seeing you build a big ass farm and already grown a shit ton of crops) and when the dance of the moon jellies comes around. He loves if you are with him. He loves how the light glows on you. Makes him fall for you way more.

(Im replaying stardew valley again because I've been neglecting it with my animal crossing game so sorry for such the long wait but promising I'm putting out more stardew valley content! But for now please stay safe and drink water!)

[volturiprincess]

From the other side

Demetri Volturi x F newborn vampire

Warnings: Foul language, death, mentions of a Emetophobia, I bash on the Cullens here A/N: This was a request by @kpopgirlbtssvt, I got to say I enjoyed working on this. Its been a while since I worked on an actual long one-shot request but I hope the wait was worth it, and I might of changed some ideas on the request slightly (but still stayed on topic). Enjoy💙 Word Count: 4k+ (wow)

_____________________________

(He's just so gorgeous🥰)

“I think she’s waking up”

“How do you know?”

“Well you can see her eyeball moving Emmett, I'm no doctor but I think that is a sign she is waking up”

“Oh well sorry Mister Smartypants, didn't know I was in the presences of an expert”

“Focus, should we fetch Carlisle? He said he would be back soon but what if he’s already here?”

“I'll check, you stay here incase she starts moving around, wouldn't want her newborn instincts to kill Nessie”

“Fairpoint”

Why do I feel so strange? Where the hell am I? Maybe I should wake up, maybe the one with the southern accent could give me answers. I force myself to wake up and when I do everything seems so different. Everything seems so focused, enhanced, so…perfect. When has my vision ever been this good? I know I've been neglecting my glasses quite often but even with my glasses on I never had such good eyesight, I always thought I never needed them. I sit up slowly to check my surroundings. Crap! Where am I? What even happened to me? 

Flashback….

Just left my final class of the day, Anatomy is such a pain in the ass really. Why did I decide to take both Anatomy 1 and Genetics in the same semester? But I mean it's worth it, get the harder classes out of the way and then I can maybe squeeze in other classes I am interested in before graduating. I clinged my heavy textbooks to my chest tighter as I tiredly made my way to my small apartment. I got lucky that this place was cheap compared to living on campus, and the bonus to it is that my place is about 5 minutes away from campus. I heard the school bell ring signaling some class has ended, instantly I'm surrounded by a swarm of students like me. All of them either off to  their next class, or home, or even getting a late lunch. I was slightly pushed around until I managed to find an opening but not everything can go to plan. As I was trying to get to the opening someone shoved me a bit too hard and the books I was clutching flew out of my arms, I went along with them.

I heard a simple “My bad” and then I was met with silence. I hurriedly picked up my stuff and saw how people just looked but didn't help or offer a hand. Situations like this makes me want to just disappear. Just be able to get to point A to B without any mishaps. I composed myself mentally and continued my walk to my apartment. Considering it's only 5, it's already pitch black. I don't like walking alone at night, sure I’m a night owl, but I like to be alone in a safe space. As I'm walking I felt that weird feeling of being watched, it's like a sixth sense to me at this point, please tell me it's just my paranoia and not real. I do a quick scan and I'm met with no one but silence that makes an exception to the far off train horn. I hurried off trying to shake off that paranoia until I bumped into what I thought was a wall (ended up being a ‘human’)and then I was met with darkness.

Present…

I felt my eyes fill with tears but I soon noticed they would not fall, I tried blinking but nothing happened. I went to wipe my eyes with my hand instead but felt my hand move abnormally faster. Okay what the heck? I know I sometimes have my days where my reflexes kick in or not but I have never been able to move that fast. And as if on cue my throat felt so dry, I felt like I could drain the pacific and yet that would not be enough to satisfy the level of thirst I have. I tried swallowing but noticed that it didn't even help or even do anything.

“Carlisle should be here soon with something to subdue the thirst”

My gaze snaps to the man who is casually keeping guard at the door. The way he stood made me think he was maybe in the military or something. Why is he beautiful? His blonde locks styled perfectly and his eyes… Are they gold? I have never seen that type of eye color on someone before, I mean I have read a book where one of the characters had pirate gold eyes but in person that’s strange.

“Wh-wha- where am I?”

The way his gaze slowly met mine gave me the creeps, it was like from a scene of a horror movie, where if you spot something from a distance and then you blink, they are right in front of you, killing you.

“Carlisle will answer your questions”

“Why can't you?”

“I'm not in a position to be telling you stuff, all I'm here is to keep you calm since you are a newborn”

“A newborn?”

And then I was met with silence, he turned away from me so he was back to facing the wall like he was previously. 

“Could I at least get your name?”

“Jasper Whitlock, ma’am”

What feels like ages, another man walks in with a big guy. The first one seems like he is the one in charge around here, he seemed nice. He had a calm presence within, but the other guy seemed like he was ready to pick up a fight, probably the muscles around here. Now that I'm thinking about it more, am I in some sort of mafia? But these guys don't seem all that scary, maybe the big one and the Jasper guy. The calm one got closer to me and offered me a cup.

“Here drink this, it should help with the thirst”

I crabbed the cup hesitantly, hoping it wouldn't kill me, and drank it desperately. Finishing it in milliseconds, I did feel a small relief but I still had that feeling of an intense thirst. 

“We will give you more later but I think you deserve an explanation”

“You think”

He smiled gently but nodded “Well to start of you are not human anymore, you might of picked that up slightly since you have woken up”

Not human anymore? But what could I possibly be then? What have they done to me? Am I a monster now?

“You are now a newborn, a vampire to be exact”

That right there was the biggest mick drop of my life. What does he mean i'm a-a vampire? Those exist? I thought they were just myths, that they are just some made up thing that people build up over the years. But now I'm somehow one now? This shit can't be real, he probably has me on some drugs on something. Yeah that's right, probably drugged me and I'm trapped in some dream or something.

“I can see your in denial, there’s really no way to really explain it but you really are a vampire, that cup you drank from was filled with blood, deer blood to be exact”

Oh heck no. I drank blood? I never had a problem with blood, I mean I have a major in the medical field for a reason. Just can't get over vomiting, that's just a big phobia of mine, someone throws up and I'm literally about to faint. But enough of that.

“You gotta be joking here, vampires do not exist, there just myths”

“Well with all honesty here, I assure you I'm not joking, not with the times we are facing now”

“And what is that?”

“Well my family and I are in a bit of a dilemma, you see we have engaged another coven of vampires, and they are threatening to kill our family over a misunderstanding”

“Pardon my language, but what the fuck? What do you mean ‘another coven of vampires’ and a supposed death threat, there's more of you guys out there?”

The big guy chuckled slightly at my foul language and I heard him mumble a “Oh I like her, she’s way more funny than Bella”

“Yes well you see, our kind if basically spread out around the world, this other coven of vampires are living in Italy, but this coven is basically like our government, royalty you can say even, there more dangerous than us, they feed on human blood and they have gifts that can wipe out humanity in an instant”

Ok this other coven sounds scary, wipe out humanity? What the hell did this guy and his family do to anger them anyways, must be pretty serious.

“So let me guess this straight, you and your family have angered this powerful coven of vampires who can in your words wipe out humanity and…are doing what now?”

“Well we been gathering witness to help us avoid a fight with this coven”

“I see but what exactly did you do to anger this coven of powerful vampires then?”

“My son and his new wife had a baby”

“A baby? I'm sorry I don't see a problem here”

“Vampires cannot recreate, that's what I thought until my then human daughter-in-law got pregnant”

“Ok? Still not seeing a problem here”

“I guess an easier way to explain is as I said vampires cannot recreate, we are biologically not able to do such thing between two vampires, but between a vampire male and female human, it's possible but the problem here is the Volturi believe we have created an immortal child, which we didn't”

“I see so then why do they believe you created an immortal child? And also what is an immortal child?”

“An immortal child is a child what was turned into a vampire, there stuck as a child for eternity and cannot control their thirst or be calmed or even age, they are in modern terminology are illegal, and to answer the other question, apparently hybrids are not common and they did not know about them existing”

 The more he answers my questions, the more I think I am definitely dreaming, no way in hell is all of this real. Why am I even being roped into this? I was just some human who was just trying to be a Physician and now that dream is out the window because I'm apparently a vampire now. I need to wake up, this cannot be my life right now, I have so much to live for still. Sure I was quiet and not in some relationship but I still liked the life I had. 

“Now the real question here is, why or how am I even part of this?”

They were all quiet instantly and none of them were making eye contact with me. Ok weird… I mean even the big guys amused look was gone and that guy answering my questions with a small smile was also gone. Something here does not feel right. Someone burst into the room, which freaked me out a bit because this guy along with his buddy looked intimidating with all their leather and the intense red eyes. I felt a weird current roll down my body and then I heard gasps. The Jasper dude looked at me with wide eyes, well everyone was looking at me with the same wide eyes. 

“She’s gone!”

“No I don't think so Emmett, she’s gifted”

“What are the odds of finding one that is gifted”

“Not very likely”

Why are they all talking about me as if I wasn't there?

“Um i'm right here”

The ‘nice’ one spoke up first “Well it seems you have a gift miss, your invisible currently”

“Seriously?” I looked down and as he said I am indeed invisible. Maybe that weird current I felt earlier was me triggering this. Should I tell him this?

“How were you able to do that?”

“I don't know, I um felt a weird feeling run through me after those two over there came in”

“Vladimir and Stefan triggered it? Hmm it seems it came from fear then, interesting”

So those are their names, I wonder who is who. My wild guess is the platinum blonde is Vladimir and the dark haired one is Stefan. 

As if he knew I was talking about him, the platinum started to speak “So you were desperate enough for witnesses that you created a newborn? That’s low even for you Carlisle. At least she’s gifted but even then she probably has no combat skills so she won't be able to tear heads off if the time comes”

Ok y/n, let's think about becoming visible, I don't like how they're just staring at me like that, and also speaking smack about me either. Smoke started to surround me for a minute and when I looked at my hands to see I was now visible. Again I heard the gasp. 

“How did you do that?”

“I was just thinking about wanting to be visible”

“Well that’s good to know how your gift works”

“I guess”

Carlisle, it took him like thirty minutes to tell me his name, started to explain the situation more and even introduced me to the other members of his family. Jasper along with his friend taught me some basic combat skills in case a fight broke out with the confrontation. But the weird thing I discovered was when I met the infamous son, Edward, I was able to read his mind when he was reading mine, he gave me a funky look each time and tried to reduce his thoughts as much as he could. 

Funny enough but also traumatizing, he was always thinking about his honeymoon with his wife. I do not need to know how his child was conceived. When I met Alice a similar thing happened, she spaced out (which I found out she does when she has a vision) and I saw me with another figure, a man to be exact. The man in the vision was gorgeous, I never knew such a person could exist, he looked like a greek god. I think I might have another gift but I'm not sure I should tell Carlisle, there's just something off about why he won't tell me about how I became a vampire or what happened to me that night. 

—-------------------------------

Today is the day of the confrontation. Just last night I found out about vampires and now I might face death himself. And just today I found out werewolves or shifters exist, is everything in the books true then? I can feel my chest curl into itself and I feel myself internally hyperventilating. Can vampires do that? Well if they can that is exactly what is happening to me. I was placed between Vladimir and Stefan because apparently I should blend in and be more in the background then in front with the others. The Cullens think if the Volturi find out about me they might face a punishment of some sort.

But these two vampires are freaking me out slightly, they had an eye on me constantly, as if I were some criminal or something. With the confrontation I am fighting the urge to just disappear, I don't want part in this. It's not like I could be of help anyways, I can't really turn invisible on command, it just happens and turning visible doesn't always work when I want it to. The other gift I have, I still have no idea how it works or what it is exactly. 

Everyone is standing on guard waiting for the Volturi to arrive. I think the longer we wait the longer I feel my anxiety rise. I saw Vladimir move slightly, I followed his gaze to see a whole army of cloaked figures, they all moved in sync and let a smaller group move forward, those are definitely the kings with their guards. When they all stopped walking, they removed their cloaks and my eyes widened in shock. Why are they all really good looking? The big guy looks even more scary than Emmett, he’s basically towering over everyone. The other two I see are what I can assume are twins, they look alike except for the girl having blonde hair and the guy having brown hair. I heard the others say they are the most dangerous ones. I look at the kings, the only one who looks like he would kill everyone is the blonde one, he seems like the anger issues type of guy- err vampire. 

It seems I forgot to analyze another guard, he was slightly out of my view but how can anyone ignore his presence. I think this was the guy from Alice vision, in person he's more gorgeous. His lovely blonde hair styled to look like spikes, how his face is so symmetrical, he was indeed handcrafted by the gods.

I saw his gaze shift to meet mine, and oh dear gosh, a strong feeling overcame me. I don't even know what this feeling is, it's like an invisible string is trying to pull me toward him. I want to give in but I'm scared of what this is and I'm also scared that I might die right here. His focus was on me the whole time as the others spoke, there was even a point where he turned to the bored looking vampire to ask something which concluded with a nod from him. 

I don't even know what to center my fear right now, the fear from what is happening or the fear of this strange feeling I have with the breathtaking vampire. My attention on him was paused as I saw the blonde twin try to do something but that Bella girl used her shield, the blonde girl even looked at me but something odd happened. She clutched herself as if she was in agonizing pain and fell to her knees, my eyes widened slightly as her twin brother was at her side trying to somewhat resolve her pain.

Even the other Volturi members were shocked, the same twin boy turned his gaze to us and the anger that reflected his eyes was the most terrifying thing to witness. Out of his pure instincts he released a black smoke that also came out of my hands. I started to panic and the witnesses around me were also panicking, a bunch of them hissed for me to stop but I didn't know how or what was even happening.

A loud stop from the Volturi's side made everything go back to normal, the smoke was gone, the girl who was in pain stopped clutching herself and the boy's face was back to its resting form. Even the smoke I somehow had coming out of my hands had vanished. The king in the middle was the one who shouted stop from what I can tell.

“And who is this? She seems to have a very similar ability to one of my guards”

Carlisle who still had a confused looked form the earlier actions done by me “She’s part of Vladimir’s and Stefan’s coven”

The way the two vampires looked at Carlisle at the mention of their name would have left him buried six feet under. I could tell whatever plan the doctor had in mind was not planned. I mean even I was not aware of the plan to start off with, I was just told to stay quiet in the back and not turn invisible until they commanded me to. Vladimir not wanting to be thrown under the bridge or face any death just like me didn't let his voice be unheard 

“Still low of you Carlisle, he’s lying to you”

The look on the vampire king's face can be best described as if someone stabbed him in the back.

“Oh? Please do tell”

“She’s a newborn that Carlisle himself turned just recently”

“Oh my, bring her forward now”

I looked around the witness who was just staring at me as if I grew a second head. Carlisle gave me a look to go to them, so I walked toward the other coven, twiddling my fingers to try to calm my nerves down. So this is it then? This is how I die? As I got closer the elegant vampire kept his gaze on me, it almost looked like he was forcing himself to not go to me, like he was chained down. When I was a good ten feet away from them the tall muscular vampire one grabbed me. He had a strong hold on me, if I were human, painful bruises would indeed be forming at that instant. Again that handsome vampire looked like he was about to go to me but he stood his ground. The raven one came to me closer to introduce himself

“Hello dear, what is your name?”

“Y/n”

“Now do you mind offering me your hand?”

“My hand?”

He looked a bit impatient but smiled, a creepy smile but smiled nevertheless. “Well you see I have gift of being able to look at every thought and memory with just a touch”

“Oh, I see”

I offered my hand and was instantly reliving my every thought and memory as he said but as for my incidents with Edward, Alice, and the twins I could see his every thought and memory. I saw that he wanted Alice to be part of his coven, he was thinking of just forgiving the Cullens, I even saw memories of the handsome guard who I found out his name is Demetri. It just rolls out so naturally, it's as if I was born to say his name. Aro let go of my hand after a while with a bewildered look

“Interessante, I’m sorry for the troubles you been through, but it appears you have two gifts–”

Before he could continue, the sad looking vampire rested a hand on Aro’s shoulder and he turned to him to grab his hand like he did with me. With this case when I looked at the emotionless vampire I was able to see a red string that was connecting me and Demetri. It was the richests of red I have ever seen, come to think about it, it looks like his eyes. When he let go, Aro made one of the creepiest laughs I have ever heard to humankind, straight from a horror film. 

“It appears our own Demetri has found his mate”

If I could I would shiver at the mention of Demetri’s name. The mentioned name looked at the kings with anticipation, I mean I for sure wanted answers of what is going to happen.

“Felix you can let her go now, she’s no danger to us, on the contrary she’s going to join us”

I was let go by Felix “Join you? Why?”

“Well you see dear you are the mate to one of our guards, and we would hate for him to be miserable or lack on his missions if his mate is not kept safe, maybe with time you could join him in missions”

If I'm getting this straight, if I don't join then my ‘mate’, that’s a strong word to use, will be sad and won't be able to do his job correctly. Or I stay with the people who basically kidnapped me from the life I had, turned me into this bloodthirsty monster –currently I am still thirsty– and just threw me into a situation that I was nowhere prepared for. But again I don't even know Demetri, what if he’s cruel, what if he treats me like the Cullens? My thoughts started to spiral at a point where I was one with my mind and nothing around me existed anymore. If it weren't for the husky addicting voice I would have gone mental.

“Master? May I have a word with her?”

“Go ahead, she’s your mate after all”

I felt the warmth of his soft yet rough hands. I looked into his eyes and he gave me a small hesitant smile, oh I can get used to that. I need to see his real smile now.

“Hello cariño, I am Demetri, I am aware you know nothing about me neither do I about you, but I can promise you if you come with me and my coven, I will give you anything you want, give you a life humans can never come close to having, I will promise you an eternity of love and happiness”

So this is love? The way he speaks is straight from a romance novel. And the way his face glows makes it all more sincere and truthful, heck I just want to run away with him. I was about to say something to him when I heard them. The Cullens along with their witnesses whispering about me.

“A traitor”

“All that hard work to get her here for her just to abandon us”

“I knew there was something off about her”

“Carlisle do something”

“She can’t go”

“If she goes with them, then the Volturi have more power”

“She would be stupid to go with them”

“Indeed”

“She was a mistake”

I wanted to use that gift to disappear at that moment, I didn't ask to be placed in this situation to start off with. I was forced and manipulated. 

“You promise”

His hesitant smile turned genuine “I promise amore, forever and always”

Aro literally was beaming with anticipation for my decision, reminding me of a child waiting for the final decision of their parents to let them go to a sleepover at a friend's house. I nodded which caused Aro to clap with joy 

“Magnifico my dear” His attention turned to the vampires behind me “She will be coming with us, if you dare interfere, we will wipe you out without hesitation”

Ok that’s scary but I can tell he’s serious. I could see the blonde king with a proud smirk but Demetri pulled me into his side.

“Nobody will ever take you away from me from now on”

I gave him a weak smile as we walked off the snowy battleground. I didn't ask for this new life, but maybe it won't be so bad with him. 

[double--blind]

(SPOILERS) Ashley, self-esteem, and starvation

So, I adore Ashley. She's this intensely toxic, vicious, cruel, manipulative girl, and her psychology gives me hella brainworms. Andrew's not the only one whose head I wanna crack open and root around lol. She's thrown away the world just to keep her brother by her side, and she'll continue to do worse and worse for the same reason. She's pretty awful! I've been thinking about why, though. How did things get so bad? How did her soul get so dark?

We don't know everything (I'm waiting for those new eps patiently aND CLAWING AT THE WALLS AND FROTHING AT THE MOUTH but whatevs y'know whatevs I'm normal. I'm fine), yet what information we have been given is bumping around my brain like a DVD screensaver on hyperdrive

It's clear from the start that the roots of Ashley's issues lie in her horrible, neglectful upbringing, but it's hinted that even those outside of her family felt the same abt her. I'm lowkey even betting we'll learn later on that she was ostracized by her peers somehow. However, what's most disconcerting, I believe, is how little she was when the results of this alienation are first made apparent to us (bc kids aren't dumb; they notice this stuff oftentimes instinctively, impossibly young, before they even know what it means to be hated), and how devastating the consequences were.

(There's something decidedly childish abt her dream sequence in the "questionable" route—filled with crayon scribbles and rabbit plushies, the metaphors simplistic yet profound—which really hammers in how these sentiments are things that have made a home in her since childhood. Formative subconscious truths.)

Growing up unloved and noticeably unwanted by virtually everyone around her likely left her with a gaping hole in her heart that she'd spend the rest of her life trying to fill. She'd make friends, but she'd always worry that they'd leave her, that they'd betray her, nothing tangible or weighted enough in their connection to trust in its persistence. Why should she expect otherwise? Not even being bound by familial ties ensures affection if her parents are any indication.

Every lesson she'd ever learned had always taught her this: you are easy to abandon. You cannot love and be loved by virtue of your own worth.

You have to rip their affection from their clenched hands if you want it so bad.

This understanding carries with it an undercurrent of degradation, instilling within Ashley a constant, biting inferiority complex which will never fail to be a source of insecurity. She will always be put last. She was difficult to raise, so her parents gave up on raising her. She was difficult to get along with, so her friends gave up on getting along with her.

It's an odd cycle. She's difficult bc she needs to be to get attention, but bc she's difficult, she can't keep it. Not without having whatever fondness she's managed to cultivate within someone fray at the seams, volatile and prone to collapse, bleeding toxicity.

Hence, her relationship w/Andrew.

By being the only reliable constant in her life, caring for her and keeping her company, Andrew essentially became her only source of happiness, and she's since learned not to bother with anyone else. Still, it's dangerous to keep all your eggs in one basket; since he is all she has, she must protect her place in his life with even greater ferocity, which becomes a torturous ordeal when coupled with her damaged self-esteem.

It's apparent in her quarrels with Andrew that she needs constant reassurance that she is wanted in some capacity or perceived in some positive light (getting pouty when Andrew says he's "stuck with her", needing to hear that she's pretty, needing him to "choose her", wanting him to say he loves her back, etc. etc.), yet her insecurity remains, bc unlike her, he's got options. She doesn't think he needs her like she needs him. He's got a gf, their parents love him, her friends love him. Why would he settle for her? What if someone better comes along? Someone she can't scare away?

Wouldn't he just leave her like everyone else?

Even before getting locked in the coffin of their apartment, starvation's been a constant theme in Ashley's life. She's constantly aching for love, and Andrew's the only one who can feed her. When you're forced to fight for a bite to eat or suffer every moment you hunger, you become ravenous—covetous—when faced with food; you don't want the hunger to return, so you lock down the source of your sustenance, wary of its retreat. Ashley's in a permanent state of intense insecurity, always anxious that the love that gives her life will leave her.

Andrew knows Ashley better than anyone else in the world, and it's obvs to everyone and him how desperate Ashley is for him, but I don’t think Andrew has truly, consciously processed the depth of that desperation. It's there buried in his head somewhere no doubt, but rn, he doesn't operate w/the direct awareness that he is everything. He is brother, mother, friend, and soulmate. He is life and love, air and water, everything that is good in the world—everything that there is to justify existence.

It's heartbreaking, in a way, that it's so difficult for Andrew to convince her of his loyalty. This goes further than his tendency to hide his true feelings, bc when push comes to shove, he's at her beck and call. Objectively, he's hers. She doesn't see that bc all she sees is all the ways she can lose him.

So, she gets bratty. She gets pushy, possessive, territorial. Manipulative. Gets under his skin, guilts him to exhaustion, bc she can't see him staying any other way, bc he doesn't get it, bc it works. He bends to her will, for her sake. For now. It's always "for now", bc he'll start slipping away again, and then it'll get worse. She does worse.

Becomes worse.

[unacknowledgeable]

Imma slide in a free sample but like Serial Killer Reader won't mind a little Isha like gotham kid running around them no? 😉

The kid witness them like unalive a badguy or someone but they're like

THAT'S SO COOL

I just thought about this after I saw that kid in one of Jason's comic and he calls himself BlueHood I'm like look at the lil guy!

We just need a lil kid looking up to our clearly misunderstood and neglected reader to know we don't need the fam for love, We got this lil guy for emotional support!

also LOVE YOUR STUFF!

Hey, how'd you get access to my drafts??

Okay admittedly I've had this ask for a while and was too scared to answer until I had solidified how and when I wanted this character to show up, XD so now I know and I genuinely love this kid, they really hit the reader over the head with morals. 

This kid also helps y/n realize that hey, your mom was pretty fucked up because you would never treat your kid the way she treated you, so thats a crisis you get to deal with now. Yayyy

At first, you’d try to pawn the kid off on Gordon, he’s way better with kids, okay? You sure as hell aren't letting Bruce anywhere near the kid, so that's not an option. But after some back and forth, including a reasonable disdain for cops from the kid, you have reluctantly accepted your new role as guardian. This of course turns into unleashing your full blown older sibling energy that you've been keeping locked up tight sense Jason died.

anyway hopefully I can throw out how exactly you two met soon, we'll see

[s0lidar1ty]

You know Rafe loves you but it didn't feel like that sometimes. It felt like he loved his drugs or his friends or anything that wasn't you more.

You didn't realize you were pulling away from him. Instead of greeting him at the door like you always did, you stayed in bed. You didn't run over and start kissing him all over the face. You didn't ask him about his day. You didn't cook for him like you always did, you made food for yourself. If he was hungry, he'd eat. Which he stopped doing. Most times you didn't even want to stay home but putting on an outfit and getting ready just took more energy than you had in you. 

…

Rafe noticed almost immediately when you changed. When you stopped loving him like you did before. There were no more late night talks, no more talks about his day or even yours, no more “I love you”’s. 

He figured you were just going through some stuff that you didn't want him to know about yet. He didn't think anything of it but of course there was a voice in the back of his head. He didn't like whatever was going on between you two.

So he got clean.

“Princess?,” Rafe calls as he walks inside your shared apartment. He takes off his shoes and you don't answer. He walks to the bedroom and opens the door. You're awake, just on your phone. “I called for you,” he said softly and sat on the bed.

“I don't really feel like talking,” you mutter.

He takes your phone and puts it down in front of you. “What's happening to us?”

You sit up and hold your knees to your chest. “I don't know.. it feels like you're pulling away from me.”

Rafe shakes his head. “I feel like you're doing the same thing, like, you don't love me anymore.”

“I do love you, Rafe, and the only reason I've been acting the way I do is because it's like you don't wanna be home. You're never home now, you're always out with Topper or Kelce or you're getting high or drunk.”

Rafe sighs and shakes his head. “I'm working on getting clean, actually,” he mumbles.

You stare at him for a moment, thinking that he was making a joke of some sort. But he wasn't. He was actually trying to clean for you. “Are you really?” you say softly.

He nods. “Yeah. i wanted better for you. I know I’ve been acting off because of the drugs so I wanted to change. I’m sorry I neglected you.”

You pull him into a hug and bury your head in his neck. “I love you.”

He puts you in his lap and wraps his arms around your waist. “I love you.”

[alexanderwales]

I'm going through a profound period of writer's block, except I've always maintained that writer's block is really like seven different things.

Right now it's just ... aversion. I sit down to write and immediately want to be doing something else. I write a hundred words and it's fine, I'm having ideas and things, I know what comes next, but I finish those hundred words and it's like my brain is so ready to be doing something else. The writing is, in my opinion, not suffering from this, except that the output has been pitiful. The flow state is particularly elusive.

My all-time best day for writing was 16K words. That's like ... three chapters in a single day, maybe four if they're on the shorter side for my chapters. I was going unsustainably fast, fingers flying, neglecting my family, neglecting my body, really in the zone. That's not something I can replicate, but I remember the feeling, and it's so close. It doesn't feel like that me was a world away.

I think I would like to figure out the cause of the aversion. It's coming after a period of deep depression, maybe the worst I've had in twenty years, and maybe that came from anxiety of some kind, but not being able to write at the level of output I want is definitely not helping with the anxiety I've been feeling, so I don't know.

My plans for my next web serial, the one after Thresholder, are premised on being able to reliably write and edit 10K words a week, all killer no filler, as little wasted words as possible, new and interesting things around every corner, stellar fight scenes, meaty character interactions, but I'm feeling like a floppy baby, unable to hold up my own head, and if I can't maintain that pace ... I don't know. I can only scale back, and obviously if you want to make money writing for people on the internet, scaling back runs contrary to that goal.

I would feel better if I had what felt like a good path forward in terms of the writing muscle, if there were some life hack that would work for me. I think I'm at the point of wanting to try sprints again, which have historically been good for me but also a great way to burn out. I don't know how you get over an aversion to something you actually enjoy doing, but I'm not really a stranger to aversions. Usually I just buckle down and get it done, which I don't think is going to work if that feeling of aversion is with me for one of the primary things that I do.

This is mostly a gripe rather than me seeking solutions. I think this is probably a personal thing for which the solutions you might want to offer in the spirit of helpfulness would not actually work. Mostly, if you read my stuff, I want you to know where I'm at right now.

[drdemonprince]

ok big question as someone looking at ENM, which my partner has also expressed interest in. I know myself to have too little spoons to be aware of more than one person at a time. I dread that pursuing someone else, even if just for a night, takes away resources from me that would make my main partner feel neglected. That and the general idea of neglecting to work on the relationship when there's a whole array of companions ready to serve a good time w/ no deeper work involved. What would you consider an ideal way to negotiate with these feelings?

You're touching on something that I've been wanting a word for for some time.

In nonmonogamy circles (I will not use the term ENM, because categorically declaring yourself to be ethical to be seems like a huge barrier to recognizing the ways in which you are not), there is much talk of jealousy -- the feeling that one's partner is not giving them enough attention and love. But there's comparatively little talk about the guilt one can feel about not giving enough love and attention to one's partner. That troubling sense that you are not showing up enough for everybody, that you are in some sense leaving a long-term partner behind.

I suffer from this guilt more than jealousy, much of the time. I find that I cannot be emotionally available to any kind of new partner because my heart is lingering in another room, waiting and longing for the partner I'm already attached to, and i'm anxious to dash off and get back to them as soon as I can, to make sure they feel cared for and to ensure I don't lose them. This happens even when I have a primary partner who fully does not mind that I'm off with somebody else, and does not feel insecure or jealous. I'm still intensely attached and anxious to reinforce that attachment. I have a horny slutty body, but a monogamous heart.

I think you may find, if you pursue nonmonogamy, that your attachment to your partner means a lot to you and quite difficult for a new relationship to replicate. Though the thrill of a new relationship or sexual encounter can certainly pull one's focus, most of the people you'll hook up or try dating won't share that spark with you that you share with your partner, and regardless, you won't have the shared history or bond there.

Other people won't be "easy" either -- they will come with their own host of traumas, insecurities, expectations, annoying quirks, hangnails and bad breath and baggage from their exes. It's true that some nonmonogamous people use new partners to try and fill what holes they perceive in their own lives, but they always fail if that is their outlook, because humans aren't an easily expended resource, they're a source of pain and annoying complexity just as much as delight.

Sometimes dating new people makes you aware of just how aligned you and your partner are on a variety of domestic life issues and long-term plans. Other times, yes, some long-neglected corner of yourself is rekindled by a new person and it's thrilling and you do feel called to open up more space in your days for them. And that can be tough, but it's also fine. But I generally wouldn't head into nonmonogamy with the expectation that it's going to be all fun and effortless sex with a cadre of available strangers. No, it's gonna be a fuckin pain in the ass, as all human relationships must be -- lots of tedious negotiations, awkward stumblings over who is going to pay the bill at dinner, farts in the bed, tantrums, bored moments watching some movie they love but you hate, cute chit-chat while petting their cats, and just all the other mundane stuff that makes a life.

And you gotta be ready to treat the new people you are dating like full people, too, by the way -- not see them as either a looming threat to your other relationship that you must steel yourself against, or as an ever-flowing river of pleasure that you think you're gonna drown in. Both those outlooks can become very dehumanizing, and I have often seen that when a couple opens up their relationship, it is their *new* partners who get overlooked and shafted and treated like shit, not their existing long-term partner. So that's something to be really aware of too, I think -- remember that you are getting to know a whole person and there are a lot of responsibilities that come with that, if it's anything other than an anonymous cruising hookup.

[palenutbasement]

(all scenes are depicted as platonic)

So every Inktober I try to do something more challenging, and this year I thought I would make a short comic/fanfic. I think I got the idea for this one a year ago but I was already wrapped up with another Inktober. Eventually I solidified the idea by making my own prompt list some time ago.

This comic is split into three parts with 10 days focusing on each of them, 30 in total, everything is compiled here. I wanted to post them after October in case I wanted to change anything.

This first part takes place in the summit.

The comic is basically all improvised, that means no planning for the composition, plot, or sketching any drawings. The most planning I did was write a few scripts ahead of time within the month to save me some time but most of them would be changed last minute anyways.

As for the plot, I won't go too deep into it because I don't want to talk too much, so you'll just find commentary on the making of the comic and stuff.

This first part is a little gimmick-y compared to the next two, with new elements appearing almost every day. It’s because I relied a lot on the prompts (dog, milk, etc.) to keep things happening, eventually I move further away from them.

What is surprising to me is how much the art changes as the days go by especially within the span of one month. I did refine a few things to keep it more consistent but this is nearly indistinguishable from the original drawings.

I should also mention that my favourite aspect of this project was adding references to the game and subtle details (if you can find it all, awesome!!) This may have been done quickly but I like to have those things and put at least a bit of effort into the dialogue.

Part 2

Eventually I figured that drawing the same setting for 30 days straight would drive me insane, hence why this comic is split like it is. I’m glad I did because it makes the story a little more interesting, seeing the characters have different attitudes in different places and whatnot.

This one takes place in the cave directly after pt 1. Admittedly I do better drawing outdoor settings, it's what I'm used to, but the cave wasn't so bad to figure out.

I remember these two days I was streaming drawing the comic to my friends, so I kinda zoned out while we were talking lol

One of the prompts was about napping, so I made Dwarf sleep. I believe I was tired that day too and it was therapeutic to draw and include that. Also they look cute, I think.

18 & 19 have some of my favourite drawings in the comic. The campfire lighting is what we'd get if I had a bit more energy each day, and I like the perspective in the first panel of 19.

I find this last section interesting, because of all the 30 days, it’s the only one in Dwarf’s POV. I felt like it was fitting to do something like that at the time.

Part 3

Since we were approaching Halloween, I wanted to have a special part for it. It’s related to the other two parts but it takes place some time after. I’m really sorry it’s out of season, if it were up to me I would have had this post out earlier (thank my midterms for the delay)

Out of all the other parts this one is my favourite. Maybe because it’s more recent I’m inclined to think that way but it has some of my fave moments that I've written here.

Other than that I don't have much commentary for this part. More thoughts at the end!

I was caught up everyday atp, but I didn’t have much spare time to prepare for the ending (I wrote it the morning of that day). I think this is a decent conclusion though.

I intend on coming back to this story, maybe next year to make a continuation but we'll see what happens. There are definitely things that I want to come back to someday.

Thank you for making it this far btw. It's been an eventful month for me beyond this (Untitled) comic, but there wasn't a single aspect of this that I didn't enjoy doing. It's a silly project and I care about it.

Also, I'm not going to neglect the 31st of October! That day will get an illustration, where I will pick my favourite panel and redraw it. I want to take my time with this one so it's not out yet, but hopefully I can finish by Christmas.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

“Have you ever had a Harveston apple before? They’re some mighty fine eatin’. Um I mean they’re pretty good. My meemaw just sent me a whole crate and I can’t finish it all myself so I’m passing them out. Want one? I heard from Ace you like apples.” - 🍎

So tell me, do you wanna go?

The boy held out an apple. He was smallish and delicate looking, with lilac locks and long lashes framing big, sparkling blue eyes. The collar of his uniform was gathered lace crowned with a necktie done up as a ribbon.

If Fellow didn’t know any better, he would have easily mistaken the boy for a living doll. He thought the idea laughable—a bitter reminder of his last gig.

Whoever he was, he was no nobleman’s son. No, he had opened with an accent Fellow recognized from somewhere rural and humble. Here was a common man, squished into a suit and thrown to the wolves to fend for himself. His eyes were not mistaken.

“Don’t mind if I do! Thanks for the grub, kid.”

Fellow accepted the apple with a broad grin. He could see his reflection in its shiny red exterior, even before he polished the fruit on his jacket.

Crunch.

His teeth cut into the apple, slicing its skin and revealing the crisp white flesh underneath. Sweet juice--sweeter than he'd ever tasted, almost candy-like--burst spilled his tongue. He hummed in satisfaction.

“Whoa, you weren’t pullin’ my leg. This stuff’s premium!” He hungrily eyed the crate of unclaimed apples in the boy's arms.

“Heheh. Harveston’s real proud of its produce." The first year glanced down, patting the top of his crate. "I should hand the rest of these out now."

"Hold on a second!" Fellow blocked his path--sights still set on the apples. It would be nice to bring some back for Giddie.

"Yes? What is it?"

"Why the rush? We've barely gotten to know each other! What's your name, champ?"

"It's, er... Epel."

"Epel!" He slipped a hand on the boy's shoulder. "And you're from Harveston, you say? I've been there myself during my worldly travels! Nice folks you got there. So warm, so hospitable!!"

(Fellow neglected to mention that the story started with he and Gidel sneaking onto someone's farm and liberating them of a chunk of their crops. It had been a particularly bad day and the vegetables had just been lying out there. A recipe of convenience, a risk worth taking.

They had been caught red-handed, been accosted by a flurry of frying pans and angry locals. It had taken plenty of groveling and sniveling to sort things out. When the locals' rage had simmered down, he and Gidel had been invited in to stay a while, given that they promised not to steal anymore. Some food and a bed, and they were all set for that night.)

Epel bristled, pulling away from Fellow. "Ah, no ya don't! Ace warned me that you're sneaky and to not fall for anything you'd try to pull."

He faltered. “What else has he said about me?! Fellow Honest-sama's got a reputation to keep."

It's going to be harder to scam these students if word about me gets around.

"Uh... Well..." Epel hesitated. "That you were kinda pathetic?"

"PATHETIC?! I'm not pathetic!!" Disbelief rattled Fellow's voice. He gritted his teeth, fingers digging into his half-finished apple.

Y-You're being pretty pathetic right now though...? Epel stayed tight-lipped for his own good.

Fellow released the Pomefiore student and stomped off, waving his cane in the air as if spearing an invisible man with it. Spit flew out as he cursed the boy with the heart over one eye.

"Why, that smarmy little...! MARK MY WORDS!! The next time I see that guy, he'll get what's comin' to him!!" Fellow swore loudly.

Epel awkwardly stared after him. "Wh-What just happened?"

[stevelieber]

Thoughts on giving critiques to comics artists.

Seeing lots of discussion from students about sour experiences with an unhelpful art teacher, so here's a long, long post about giving critiques.

NB: I have no formal training as a teacher, but I was a student, and I've spent decades giving artists feedback on their work.

When someone brings me a portfolio, I like to establish my limitations & clarify my perspective. My work is firmly rooted in traditional US comics storytelling (i.e., not manga or art-comics.) I can give feedback on other approaches but they should know where I’m coming from.

“We've only got a little time for this, so I'm going to spend that time focusing on things to correct. That doesn't mean you're doing everything wrong, or that there’s nothing good here, but it’ll be more helpful if I identify some problems and show you how to fix them.”

Why? Because for many young artists their entire sense of self worth is wrapped up in being good at what they do. (It was for me!) In school they were probably the best artist in their peer group. But now if they're hoping to turn pro, they’re at the bottom.

Sometimes you know what’s up when you see page 1, but try to keep an open mind. Some build their portfolios by sticking new pages at the back & don’t weed out the old stuff up front, so the work gets better as you go. When it’s like that I ask: “Show me your best 8 pages.”

I ask questions: "What's the goal? Do you want to be hired to work on someone else's project, or to get the story you're showing me here published?"

If 1, I steer towards a portfolio that'll showcase hirable skills. If 2, I look for what tweaks will make that particular story more effective.

"Do you have teachers giving you regular feedback? What are they telling you?" Sometimes a student is getting bad advice. In cases like that, I'll do my best to be extra clear WHY I'm giving them advice that's 180 degrees from what they've been hearing.

“What artists are you looking at? Is there someone you admire or try to emulate?” This often helps me understand choices they're making, and I can sometimes incorporate things those artists do into my suggestions.

I ask myself questions about what I’m seeing. First: Is there a narrative? If not, I make it 100% clear I'm not speaking as any sort of expert. I'm good at critiquing storytelling, but don't have anywhere near as much to offer illustrators or designers.

Can I follow the story? Or am I confused about what's going on? Are the characters and settings drawn consistently? If not, is the artist at least making use of tags (distinctive clothing, hair etc.) to keep the characters recognizable?

Does the artist demonstrate a good command of basic academic drawing? If not, Do I think they need it? Do I focus on "how to draw" or on "what to do when you can't draw?" Is the artist putting the viewer’s eye where it needs to be to tell the story effectively?

(At this point I’m usually doing little doodles to go with my instructions. I scribble out ugly little 5 second diagrams that I hope will clarify what I’m talking about. Or they might make me seem demented. Hard to say!)

Is the artist making choices that are creating more work than necessary? Is there a particular weakness? I once spoke to an artist with a portfolio full of great work when he was drawing animals and monsters, but his humans were amateurish in comparison. I spent that critique talking about drawing people.

A crit can be a grab bag. In addition to big-picture advice, I'll point out tangencies, violations of the 180-degree rule, wonky anatomy, weird perspective, places where the artist neglected to do important research, odd choices in how they spotted black, whatever catches my eye.

I also try to make a point of defining the terms, so that jargon like “tangency,” “180-degree rule,” and “spotting black” don't go over their heads. Find simple, concrete ways to talk about these things, & clarify why it's a problem when they aren't done correctly. Draw diagrams!

Recognize that even a perfectly phrased explanation might not sink in. Some lessons can only be learned when a student is ready, and it might take a year or two of work before they can understand what you were saying. It's good to plant seeds.

Are there other artists who are particularly good at solving the problems the student is trying to solve? I steer them towards that artist's work. And I always recommend life drawing & the use of reference to give work specificity, variety, and authority.

Despite what I said earlier about focusing on what's wrong, I try at the end to find something encouraging to say. And if I’ve really piled on the criticism, I emphasize that I only spent the time and energy to do so because I take their efforts seriously.

If I've done my job right, they'll leave my table with tools to make their work better. And maybe in a few years they'll be looking at some younger artist's work, surprised to discover just how much you can learn when you're asked to teach.

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 20: FINAL

So guess what I realized this morning. Today, November 13, 2023 is the one year anniversary of me posting my first DPxDC fic to tumblr. It was the original fill for this very fic. (Which you can find here.)

So I decided I just had to finish this arc and get it posted. This year has been amazing and so much fun. I've become a much better writer and joined a community that has brought me so much joy. I'm glad to be here and I'm glad so many of you like to read what I'm sharing.

I noticed I got a few new readers over the past week or so, so welcome to all of you! Hope you enjoy this early update!

In personal news, my nephew was born and he's adorable and I'll be meeting him tomorrow! (As soon as I'm done posting this, I'm off to make food for his mom.)

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

Arc 1

Arc 2: Part 1, Previous

Word Count: 1.2k

-----

In the end, it ended up taking several hours for Danny, Sam, and Tucker to escape their families and converge on the park. In that time, Tim had called Bruce to let him know he’d be back in Gotham by tomorrow and finished most of his homework.

While he worked, Wulf and Bart were having an animated conversation in Esperanto.

Tim was pretty sure Wulf would be bringing Bart to the Ghost Zone for a tour sometime and started making plans to learn Esperanto himself and bribe Bart to get in on them.

Cassie was helping Conner sort through some of the music Sam had given him. Tim was jealous as he solved more banal trig questions. Why did school have to be so boring? He tapped his pencil on the paper in time to the beat of whatever music Conner had playing.

Tucker was the first to arrive. “Danny and Sam not here yet?” he asked as he plopped down next to Bart and Wulf.

“Nope. Haven’t heard from them, either,” said Tim. He opened his phone notifications again just to be sure, but there was nothing new.

Tucker shrugged and pulled out a stick of jerkey to munch on. “Not surprising. The Fentons will be all overprotective after the mayor was kidnapped by a ghost on live TV. And Sam’s parents are just as bad. Only they smother rather than check the weaponry.” He turned to greet Wulf in Esperanto.

An email came through on Tim’s phone and he groaned. “Our evening interview was canceled. No one wants to hear us try to defend Phantom anymore.”

Cassie cursed. “Course not. Bet the paper won’t publish our editorials either.”

Conner looked over, confused. “Won’t they? Clark works for the Daily Planet. They publish stuff like that all the time.”

Tim didn’t look up from his math as he answered, “That’s the difference between a big, Pulitzer winning publication and a small-town op-ed.”

Tucker sighed. “Well maybe someone will remember your interviews from this morning in a positive light.”

Bart rolled his eyes. “Come on, we can’t change it. So let’s move forward. Next step, make friends with more ghosts! Wulf says there’s a bunch of cool people in the Realms.”

“Realms?” asked Tim.

“It’s what he says the Ghost Zone is actually called. The Infinite Realms.”

“Huh. I’ll have to check JL databases, see if they have any information on them.”

Tucker asked something in Esperanto and Bart burst out laughing as Wulf looked on in confusion.

With Bart’s help, though, he rephrased until Wulf was able to reply. And then the three kept to Esperanto. Tim really had to find time to learn it.

Sam was the next to arrive. She grinned and sat down next to Conner. “How you liking the music?”

Conner grinned and showed her the sheets where he ranked the bands so far based on which songs he’d listened to. She then took over the speakers and searched for specific tracks to try and change his mind about some of the bands he liked the least.

Tim let his eyes close as his friends’ voices washed over him.

After some indeterminate time where he dozed between sleeping and awareness, a foot nudged his hip. Tim grumbled out what was supposed to be a, “What?” but was too mumbled to really be understood.

“Come on, Secrets. You can do better than that.”

Tim cracked an eye open to see Danny grinning down at him. He pushed himself up slightly and blinked heavily in the sunlight.

“Finally got away from your parents?” asked Tim.

Danny collapsed on the ground next to him. “Ugh, don’t remind me. They’re freaking out over everything that’s happened the last few days. Jazz and I are basically going to be on lock down until they feel confident the ghosts are gone.”

“Did you have to sneak out to get here?” asked Cassie.

Danny shook his head. “No, I told them I was going to find you guys to make sure you were all safe. You’re welcome to come back to ours tonight, by the way. Mom and Dad basically insisted on it.”

“What do you guys think?” asked Tim. “Spend one more night here at Danny’s and head out in the morning?”

Cassie sighed. “My mom’s already freaking out that I’ve been gone longer than planned. I should get back tonight.”

“I’ll stay,” offered Conner. “I’m your ride home, anyway.”

“Why don’t you come to my place, Conner,” offered Sam. “Your nails need a fresh coat after fighting today. And I need teach you about the different brands of makeup and what to look for in terms of cost, quality, and ethicality. Plus I can get you more music.”

Tim laughed when Conner looked to him. “Go for it. Have fun.”

Conner grinned. “Then yeah, let’s do it!”

Bart shrugged. “Wulf is going to go back to the Realms soon. I’ll head out after. Wally and Linda want me over for a family dinner tonight.”

“Well, looks like that’s it, then,” sighed Danny. “Been fun having other heroes around.”

Tim nudged his shoulder. “Join the Young Justice. You could join us and we'd help out whenever you wanted. Get you around people who actually appreciate what you do for them.”

But Danny was already shaking his head. “I have to stay here. And now Amity trusts heroes even less. I want to improve that, not make it worse.”

“Even if you don’t join,” declared Conner. “You’re not getting rid of us now.”

Bart nodded his agreement. “Yep. We’re gonna be stopping by all the time. You’re in the group chat.”

“Exactly,” agreed Tim. “And we’ll figure out ways to help you. Starting with how to minimize property damage. That seems to be the big thing people focus on. You can make shields, right? How big can you make them and how much power do they take?”

Danny smiled wryly. “Can’t say I’ve really tested it.”

Tim laughed. “Well, I know one thing we’re doing tonight. We’re going to go back to Nasty Burger—” Tim looked around at the whole group “—all of us. Then Cassie and Bart are going to go home. Danny and I, at least, are going to take a nap. Then we’re gonna test the current limits to Danny’s powers.”

Danny bumped their shoulders together. “You know, this is just like gaming with you all those years.”

“Yeah, well, it’s best to be thorough.”

“We’ve measured, like, his top speed and stuff,” said Tucker, pulling out a PDA. “Want to see what we’ve got so far?”

“Absolutely.” Tim took the device and looked through it. “You’ve a decent amount of information here. Maybe instead of taking a nap, I’ll help you organize it and come up with a testing plan.”

Conner flew over to him and pulled the PDA out of his hand. “Not after pulling an all-nighter you won’t. We’re going to get some food, then the two of you are going to sleep for at least four hours.”

“I’ll set Jazz on you, too,” threatened Sam. “Don’t think I won’t.”

Tim pouted as the device was given back to Tucker. And grumbled more when Conner picked him up and threw him over his shoulder.

“Come on, food time.”

“I am going to put kryptonite in your phone,” threatened Tim.

“Bingo!” shouted Cassie.

Danny laughed as he stood. “Does this mean I can join the next round?”

Tim scowled. “Traitors, all of you.”

-----

Next

And that's the end of this Arc! Arc 3 will pick up where the original fill did. (Only this time, Tim won't be the only DC character there to help Danny.)

I'd say something like I can't believe it's only been a year, but so much has happened to me in the last twelve months that it feels like a lifetime ago, to be honest. But it's been a good year and I'm glad this community has been part of it.

Please follow the subscription post if you want updates for when I start transferring this arc to AO3 or begin posting Arc 3.

[carcarcraziiv2]

Heartsteel Sett Boyfriend HCs

~Sett is love, Sett is LIFE. Don't get me wrong, I am barking and on all fours for all of these men but Sett holds a special place in my little heart~

P.S. Asks are open! I am open to requests! P.S.S. I am also open to other League characters, Arcane AU, etc. Just hmu :3

TW: Floof. So much floof. Pet names. You get the picture right? As always, enter at your own risk!

Sett is a l o v e r. PDA overload. Hugs? Always, without question, is up for that. Kisses? You bet your ass he will. Any second, no matter where you are, you could lean in for one and he will squeeze you up against him, and kiss you like his life depends on it. If anyone appears to be giving you some extra attention that he doesn't like, all this big guy has to do is walk up next to you (as if he isn't there already lol) and usually the person doing the thing is smart enough to know better than to continue. "Hey baby, come here. What, can't I kiss you? Let me kiss you. That's my good b/g."

Sett is second only to Ezreal in his joking capabilities. This man can JOKE, and although he is trying to joke with and or at you, he unfortunately tends to make a fool of himself because he is a massive dork. If you pull jokes on him, he doesn't really get upset or offended, but he will pretend to be. His goofy demeanor means he will put a hand to his chest acting all flabbergasted, then tackle you into a hug or onto the bed while calling you a dork. "Haha! You're so funny, but you know I've got skin of steel baby. Oh, you meant it? Yeah right! Comere!"

Sett is an absolute SUCKER for attention. He will eat it up, and if you aren't paying attention to him? You might as well be. He will pester you, throw you over his shoulder, basically DEMAND your attention. Since this is just how he is, you never have to be desperate for his attention either. If for some reason you do feel neglected, he will feel very bad about it. He will make it up to you no matter what that means. "I'm sorry I've been at the gym so much this week, band stuff has just been stressing me out. Hey, I have an idea! Why don't you go with me?!"

Kisses, hugs, and everything fun= SETT. He is a fiend. He is insatiable. He will grab you up and kiss you, no matter where you are. His kisses can be goofy, fun, or downright sensual. Sometimes, when Sett is feeling serious for once, he will take his time with you. Touching you sweetly- he is so strong sometimes he is scared he will hurt you by accident. But man, it's all worth it as soon as his lips touch yours. Sett grabs your wrist, pulling you flush against him. You have to tilt your head to see him, and as he gazes back down at you he tilts his head and studies your face. "You're everything, baby. Everything." He leans down, kissing you gently, before releasing your lips and hugging you even closer.

Sett doesn't like arguing. He gets so pent up sometimes, you fear for the guy he goes up against at his boxing matches. Most of the time, when it's petty little arguments, he will figure out some way to get your mind off of it. Every once in awhile when you actually feel upset about the situation, Sett will take his time to sit down and talk it out with you. He will grab your hands, nod while you explain your side, and carefully display his own. By the end of it, the two of you are usually kissing... and by the end of that- well... "I get where you're coming from, baby. I just think we could have approached the situation differently, is all. Promise you're not mad at me? Thank the Gods. Come on, I wanna make it up to you in the bedroom hehe," He says, grabbing you by the waist and tugging you toward your room.

Sett will be very sad when you leave, or when he has to leave. He is like a little puppy dog who cries when you go (although he doesn't actually cry). He will pout, however, and his irresistible face almost makes you quit everything and stay home just to appease him. When he leaves, he will ask you a thousand questions trying to egg on a reason to stay, but you know he has to get to band practice so that Yone doesn't come pounding down your door, so you usually just give him a reason to be excited to come home later. "I miss you already, baby! Please don't make me go. Nah, look Yone loves me! He won't be that mad... Comeonnnn. Fine, but later we are getting dinner, and you are going to be desert."

[milkymolle]

i'm at the point where i'm writing transformers fanfiction. it's dratchet and it's very self indulgent sci fi headcanons. so if you're interested here's the link, and the whole fic is under the read more!

Some patients like to watch Ratchet's hands while he works, curious how he'll fix them up. Sometimes they just glance about the room, quiet or making idle conversation. Ratchet's gotten used to that stuff; he can chat while he works, or not, either way he's wholly focused on the task. But apparently there is something that can distract him--if his patient is silently boring a hole in his head with their staring.

"Can I help you?" Ratchet grumbles. He's already pretty pissed at Drift's general lack of self preservation, manifesting very obviously in the many repair jobs he's neglected on himself. He saw Drift's limp and demanded he sit down to look at it. Having Drift try to melt Ratchet's face with his bright yellow eyes doesn't improve his mood.

"Sorry," Drift replies. Ratchet can see a smile twitch onto his face from his periphery. "I'm looking at your aura."

Ratchet pulls back to make an aggrieved noise. "Great." He leans back over to finish soldering the wires in Drift's knee, in order to keep his own mouth shut.

"I'm serious!" says Drift, though he has laughter in his voice. "You have a really lovely aura. I think it comes across to your patients, even if they don't realize it."

"Uh-huh," Ratchet says, to keep himself from saying something mean. He came all this way, so he ought to at least try to be nice to Drift. "What's it look like?"

Drift's quiet for a moment, still scrutinizing with those damn eyes, like he has to really consider it. "Well, there are layers to auras, but I don't wanna make your head explode. Basically, you always have earthy tones surrounding you, but when you work on someone, pinks and blues come out. Energon and spark colors." Ratchet glances up to see the smile on Drift's face. "You're a healer to your very core."

Drift often says disarming things like this to rile Ratchet up, and what's worse is that he usually truly means what he says. So the statement that Ratchet is a natural doctor is not affecting really, it's something he's heard many times before, but when Drift says it in his way and he smiles so genuinely, it does get to Ratchet. Annoyingly.

Trying to save face, he replies, "Yeah, 'cause Primus made me that way."

"That's what I've been saying!"

Ratchet scoffs and Drift snickers.

They get into trouble again soon, and as much as Ratchet would like to blame Drift as a magnet for these things, he's at least self-aware enough to know he's no better. He only wishes less Decepticons had decided to continue evil-doing in damn near every corner of the galaxy.

The rig they are currently trying to flee is stupidly labyrinthine, and the blaring alarms don't help Ratchet's focus. He shoots out another security camera and shouts, "Are you sure we aren't going in circles?"

"Let me think," Drift shouts back. He's just standing there--granted, with his swords drawn--scrutinizing further down the hallway. Ratchet can't see anything identifying where they are, where they're going. It's all dark gunmetal walls and floors and ceilings.

Ratchet darts his eyes around, checking their six. A door to the left slides open, and as soon as the con's head pokes through Ratchet blasts a hole through it. (Once again, he feels a sick gratitude towards Pharma's hands.)

They'll be more soon. "Drift--"

"This way." He's running off, and Ratchet has to scramble after him. They take a series of purposeful turns, like Drift's been possessed and Ratchet has no better ideas than to follow him. Drift punches open a heavy door, revealing a room with two cons. Drift doesn't hesitate lopping the head off one, so Ratchet guns down the other. Only after they're dead does Ratchet realize they are somehow in the escape pod housing.

"How did you know where this was?" Ratchet asks as Drift wrenches one open.

"You wouldn't believe me," he gruffs, and grabs Ratchet's collar to chuck him inside. He only stumbles a little.

"Were you seriously just guessing?" Ratchet shouts as he finds the controls and frantically works them out.

"I sensed it." The ignition kicks, and they're shooting out from the Decepticon ship. Ratchet opens his mouth and Drift continues, "We'll argue about it later, if we don't get shot out of the sky."

Some part of Ratchet is still loath to agree with Drift, especially right now when he feels morally obligated to argue against the ability to "sense" some escape pods, but he really doesn't want to get blown up so he grits his teeth and gets them the hell away from that stupid rig.

Drift's pretty quiet back on their ship. Apparently the promise to continue the argument was empty. Ratchet's not sure if it's a PTSD thing he's going through, being back on a Decepticon ship, or maybe the fact that news of their last location will get to the DJD sooner rather than later. He doesn't have the nerve to ask, just to watch Drift sitting against the wall with his greatsword laid out in his lap.

Ratchet does sit next to him, though. "Y'know," he says, "I was thinking about it back on the con's ship, and I realized I don't think I ever thanked you for it. For Pharma's hands."

Drift looks at him somewhat bewildered, like he'd never considered it himself. "You don't need to thank me for that. But you're welcome."

They sit quietly for a bit. Ratchet maps out all the rivets on the wall across from them. Then Drift says, "They're not his hands anymore, you know. They're yours."

Ratchet smiles a bit grimly. "Yeah. Though honestly, it doesn't feel great. Carrying around a dead person's hands. An old friend's, even." He holds his hand out to look at it, the miniscule differences in Pharma's fingers and wrist from Ratchet's old ones, the ones he had for millions of years. "It doesn't feel great using them, knowing what they did before."

Drift catches Ratchet's hand from the air. He holds it firm while being careful, like it was a precious thing. Ratchet blinks at him.

Drift stares back with intent. "They're yours," he insists. "Because I gave them to you."

Ratchet's not quite sure what he means--though maybe some part of him does, some implicit understanding, but he can't think about that right now. He sees how serious Drift is, so he concedes, "Alright."

After he's sure, Drift lets go.

They spend a lot of time getting far away from that quadrant of space. They also don't head back to the Lost Light, to avoid bringing trouble with them. This little shuttle is so much quieter, just the hum of a space vessel and occasionally a strange creaking. He leaves Drift alone for a bit, or perhaps he wants to be alone himself. He reads, like he usually does when he's not working, and he finds some texts about Spectralism and energy reading that make him pretty angry but he tries to read it anyway. It makes some attempt to connect with reality, citing properties of light and electromagnetism that aren't incorrect, though it always circles back to the soul and to God. It makes it difficult for Ratchet to not mentally construct an argument against religious doctrine that was written many years ago.

There's a knock at the door and Ratchet hides the article away like he's been caught. "Yeah?"

The door slides open, and Drift peers up at Ratchet like he wished he could stay hidden behind it. "Hey. You busy?"

Ratchet laughs a bit; he's currently lounging on his berth. "Nope."

"You bored?"

"I think it's pretty hard not to be."

Drift walks in like that was permission. "If we're going to be stuck in a crappy little shuttle for the next 78 hours, we should probably find something to do."

Ratchet feels very self-conscious on his berth suddenly, and he wishes this conversation wasn't happening in his little room. He meant it when he said to himself he didn't have time to think about this. He lurches to sit at the side of the berth, trying for some scrap of respectability. "Like what?"

Drift stands in front of him with his impeccable posture, looking strong for someone covered in dents and scratches. "Could I teach you some hand?"

For some reason this surprises Ratchet, though it is a pretty good idea. Drift rushes on before Ratchet can reply: "There are situations where it could be useful. It's the only way of communicating possible without being able to hear, speak, or see. I mean, I don't know exactly what would happen to leave us like that, but--it just seems like a good backup."

"Yeah, it does." Ratchet gives a little smile, and Drift smiles back, relieved and beaming. Then he hops up onto the berth, sitting cross-legged next from Ratchet. He holds his hands up expectantly.

"Right now?"

"Were you not just saying how impossibly bored you are?"

Ratchet huffs and moves to mirror Drift, sitting across from him and raising his hands. His hands, the ones Drift gave him. Drift takes them by just barely lacing their fingertips together; Drift's hands are slightly bigger, scuffed, but they feel clever in Ratchet's own. His touch is not firm like it was before, it's something shy but eager. Ratchet briefly squeezes them.

Drift's still smiling. The lesson he gives then is precise and confident, like he'd planned it all out beforehand. Ratchet privately enjoys the thought.

There's a lively port they deem far enough away that they decide to dock at. It's good-sized moon with an atmosphere that supports organic life, and Drift assures Ratchet that the DJD avoid organic space as much as possible. (Apparently, the pleasure they take in murdering non-mechanical life is outweighed by their pure disgust.)

They stock up the shuttle and take a moment to sit on a bench to rest, and to enjoy the life around them. It reminds him of the Lost Light in a way, feeling like a very small piece in a large, loud world. It's something of a comfort.

Drift is rather impassive when Ratchet takes peeks at him. He briefly, mortifyingly, wishes he could sees people's emotions the way Drift claims to. It's such an absurd and sudden thought that he can't help but linger on it.

"Hey." Ratchet points out someone in the crowd. "Can you see their aura?"

Drift gives him an absolutely disbelieving look. "What, is this a joke?"

"No, seriously, I wanna know."

Drift still scowls at him, but he does turn to look at the person Ratchet pointed out. Then he gets that focused look. "Hm. They're getting old. They give off deep colors, like someone who carries a lot with them."

"What kinds of colors?"

Drift tilts his head. "Deep, purply colors. It's harder to define than just the color wheel."

Ratchet stares at the person, a wide mechanical that puffs out steam from their vents every half minute or so. He can't see anything other than the off-white of the smoke.

An organic person walks up on two pairs of legs to speak with the mech. Ratchet jerks his head. "What about them?"

"It's harder for me to read organics, I'm not as used to it." He studies them. "Hmm, they're warmer, sort of green? They remind me a bit of you."

Ratchet huffs. "I thought I was pink and blue or whatever."

"You are, sometimes. Auras change constantly. But something about them...it reminds me of you when--we first met."

Ratchet watches the organic quietly. Drift thinks about that time a lot; he's admitted as much. Most of them probably think of the days before the war, for many different reasons. Ratchet spent a lot of his life thinking of it, thinking of what could be different, of what he should've done. Like there's some way he could've saved more lives. Eventually he'd learned that it was a useless endeavor, trying to calculate the right decisions for things that were long dead. He tries to let go of his regrets now.

He thinks of the day he met Drift a lot, too. There was a time where he'd thought of what would happen if Drift had died; how many Autobots would still be alive? He'd operated on soldiers that had been shot by Deadlock, or he tried to. But like he'd realized, it's a useless type of math. He doesn't regret saving anyone's life, not a single person.

He's been staring at that couple for a long time, and when they finally notice him he glances down to his feet. "Guess I was greener back then," he says.

Somehow he can feel Drift rolling his eyes. "Uh huh. So are you asking this to make fun of me or what?"

"No, I'm just curious. I'd like to know how it works for you."

Ratchet turns to see Drift making yet another face at him. "Did something happen back on the Lost Light that made you less of an ass?"

Ratchet flicks at his finial.

The only windows on the shuttle are in the cockpit, and occasionally Ratchet would sit in there just to observe the space outside. He'd honestly seen enough of space at this point in his life, mostly flat black dotted with pinpricks. Though sometimes they pass a nebula, or sail over the ring of some planet, and those are things Ratchet can still appreciate.

Drift spends a lot of time in the cockpit. He seems to just stare out at unmoving stars with intent focus; it may be his way of meditating, though his eyes are searching. A lot of Cybertronians are drawn to the stars, and it doesn't surprise Ratchet that Drift is one of them.

"Are you one of those people that think stars are alive?" Ratchet asks him, startling Drift from his reverie.

"Aren't they?" he asks.

Ratchet sighs. "Well, a lot of people argue that they meet the qualifications of being 'alive.' There's a lot of things you could argue are alive, if you broaden the definition enough--they're similar enough to sparks. I guess I meant if you think of them as...people."

"Ah." Drift turns back to the window. The cockpit is dim except for a green light emitted by the HUD. "They're alive, but I'm not sure they're 'people.' They don't have the aura of something sentient. I know some people think they're the souls of the departed, sparks reformed far off. I think there's merit to thinking that our sparks are reformed somehow--when they fade, it's just the energy scattering, and it could go any number of places, become anything really. But...the soul isn't something material, something you can see. It's held in our spark, and when the spark dissapates, it's freed."

Ratchet's quiet, and Drift glances at him with something like discomfort on his face. Before he can continue, probably to defend himself, Ratchet says, "No, I think it's...interesting. How you think of things. There's a logic to it, if you believe in things like souls. It's just...how do you believe in something that you can't see, or can't be proven?"

Drift gives a small smile at that. "It can't be proven in the scientific sense, but it can definitely be experienced. I have." He pats at the greatsword laid in his lap. "I feel Wing with me, always. It's like another sense, and you can't really understand it until you identify even having that sense. Like...you won't know what 'tasting' is until you put something in your mouth."

Such a strange way of putting it. There's a knee-jerk reaction Ratchet has to things like that, things so esoteric they border on nonsensical, but when he thinks on it he can sort of understand what Drift's trying to say. But he can't help but ask, "Is that how you 'sensed' those stupid escape pods?"

"That was Primus' guidance."

"Right." Ratchet sits in the copilot seat and shuts up, for his own sake.

When they're not practicing chirolinguistics, and there's no more frivolous repairs for Ratchet to work on, he demands regular check-ups on Drift. He reasons that he needs to keep up his practice and that Drift is far overdue for extensive repairs. They both really need an overhaul, if they can scrape the money together. For now, he resorts to rote examinations to make himself feel useful.

He examines the jagged scar on Drift's spark chamber. Of all the Decepticons' stupid beliefs, forging their badges from their own metal, ripped from the most vital organ of their bodies, is one of the more irritating. There's any number of conditions that can arise from the practice, if not an almost instant death that can come from a botched surgery.

"I can practically smell you judging me," Drift says from above. He sounds hauty for someone with his chest wide open.

Ratchet huffs and pulls back a little from his scrutinizing--all the scans came back fine, anyway. "You know, I'm just annoyed because--"

"--you worry. I know." Drift smiles at him. Ratchet still doesn't like having his sentences finished, but he lets it go with just a scowl.

"What did you even do with your badge? I know some defectors have it smelted down and reattached."

"It's long gone--I didn't want it anymore." Ratchet pushes his chair away from the examination table, and Drift shifts his chest plates back. "For a while I regretted it, but I think it's good that the scar is there. It's not something I want to burnish over and forget."

Ratchet remounts the scanner into its port, and his gaze feels distant. "Yeah, I get that." He swivels back around with his penlight out, reaching for Drift's face. He places his chin in the hand, and Ratchet maneuvers it to get a good look at Drift's eye.

The last time he'd looked at them like this, they'd been leaking rust. They're clear now, healthy, though they certainly have some wear. The light sensor at the back of the eye seems standard, a CMOS with a few dozen gold wires. Ratchet counts six lenses instead of five, which isn't unusual and makes sense for someone who was a sharpshooter. Ratchet frowns as he moves to the other eye.

"I didn't ask you what you think of the stars," Drift says suddenly.

Ratchet thought they'd moved past that. "They're giant balls of gas formed by gravity and nuclear fusion."

Ratchet decides to be satisfied with his exam, so he shuts the light off and frees Drift. Drift's smiling and says, "I figured you didn't have a very romantic view of them."

"The similarity to sparks is interesting," Ratchet says. "I agree with the theory that stars are our ancestors; Vector Sigma is likely a small neuron star that evolved to carry code. But no, I don't think of them as gods or souls or anything. They're natural phenomenon that, in incredibly rare cases like with Cybertron, learned to reproduce as small bundles of positrons and code that formed a protective shell around them that we call our bodies."

Drift puts his chin in his hand as Ratchet speaks. "You know, that seems far more miraculous than a higher being granting life to a planet."

"Something I've learned after all this time--especially on the Lost Light, is that the universe is far, far more vast and old and unknown than we like to imagine. Things that seem unbelievable can find a way given enough time and the right circumstances. I think it cheapens the grandeur of the universe just say a god made it all and stop questioning how and why things are."

Drift nods. "Religion doesn't negate the need for scientific inquiry, I think. There's nothing wrong with trying to understand and finding answers for yourself--we know what it's like to have those in charge tell us what to believe without explanation. But don't you think all this is the way it is, that anything exists at all because the universe itself has a will--many wills, even--that make the shape of everything?"

"That's stupid."

Drift laughs. "That's more like it."

They take time getting back to the Lost Light. More than necessary, but things always seem to get out of hand. They need to get the shuttle repaired and they need to find a place that supplies energon, and then there's a stop Drift wants to make nearby, and somehow they'll end up being chased out of that town and onto the next. They are currently stowing away in cargo that's being shipped back to the station they left the shuttle at to be fixed. It's cramped and humid and dark, huddled together behind large metal drums that rattle as the ship fires its thrusters. It's not so bad though. It gives Ratchet time to think, to piece things together in his head like he's had so little time (or will) to do.

Drift's hand finds his. Ratchet turns it over appeasingly without thinking. Then Drift does something with his fingers, and Ratchet realizes it's chirolinguistics. Drift does it again so Ratchet can catch it:

Are you okay?

Ratchet has to make the translation in his mind. Fine.

You seem happy.

Drift has that pleased little smile on his face. It used to grind Ratchet's gears, but now it feels like a good-natured tease that he needs to return. Somehow, talking in hand has a layer of removal that makes talking about things like this a little easier.

Yeah. Weird, he signs back. Drift grins.

Drift's refueling when Ratchet puts down a stack of pads on the table before him. "Hey," he says, and he doesn't bother sitting or letting Drift reply before he continues: "I've been reading and thinking and it's possible you have very mild outlier abilities. Being able to see an energy field--if that's what 'auras' are--says to me that you're processing light in a more advanced way than average Cybertronians. It's possible you have general enhanced senses, like how you're able to do so much crazy shit with your swords, but by just looking at your frame there's nothing suggesting any unique hardware helping you run like this. So I can only guess that there's something in your CNA that developed a unique code for how you process stimuli. There's really no way to know without looking directly at the code in your brain, but that's leaning way too far into mnemosurgery than is comfortable, in my opinion. I think the theory is sound, though. I'll ask First Aid to read what I've written when we get back.

Drift's staring at him. Ratchet suddenlt desperately wishes he hadn't run out of things to say. Somehow he thought if he just talked enough he could bowl over the awkwardness of the conversation. He debates opening a datapad and showing the research he'd gone over when Drift speaks: "You believe me?"

"Hm?"

"You think I--that I can really see auras?"

Ratchet huffs. "Well, obviously you're seeing something. I don't think it's emissions from your soul or whatever, so I'm trying to figure out what. If...you wanna read what I wrote, maybe it'd help..."

Everything becomes increasingly embarrassing as it stays quiet. Ratchet feels very, very exposed, standing before Drift and being honest, being thoughtful. He then realizes that he's not quite sure what he hoped to accomplish with this; Drift is more than satisfied thinking that he can read people's auras and doesn't need a scientific explanation for his beliefs. This was an entirely self-serving affair that he has dropped before Drift and expected a response.

As Ratchet is thinking through an escape strategy, Drift stands up and takes Ratchet's head in his hands and leans forward to kiss him right on the mouth. It effectively stops every process in Ratchet's brain, so he's just standing there with his hands half raised and his eyes open. He can see the pretty color of the metal on Drift's face, a mild color that looks like a rich grey but has the warmth of lavender in it.

Drift pulls back pretty quickly--the whole kiss lasted maybe a second. Drift's still staring at him with his eyes brighter than Ratchet ever remembers seeing them. Implausibly, he sounds out of breath as he says, "Thanks."

Ratchet doesn't say anything so Drift drops his eyes and his hands to scoop up the pads Ratchet had brought. "I will read these. If that's alright."

Ratchet replies, "Yeah. Great."

Drift walks right out the door. Ratchet watches as it closes and he stands there and wonders if he'd secretly hoped something like this would happen, if his own mind betrayed him into being vulnerable so Drift could take him and do whatever he wanted with him. It's very, incredibly possible, so Ratchet stops thinking on it and makes his own hasty retreat from an empty room.