#instead i just wrote up a “short” (read: about 700 words) summary of how i think the story would play out

[w1f1n1ghtm4r3]

Your fanmade event has inspired me so much to do my own fanmade event

(Procrastination and writer block: Allow us to introduce ourselves)

im so glad i could inspire you to make your own, good luck! theyre definitely a lot of time and effort, but the outcome can be so worth it :D

[vampcubus]

3 AM (Midoriya/Reader | nsfw)

| A/N: Here’s another self-indulgent fic I wrote in my phone’s notes this week, there’s no plot, no excuse other than me being big thirsty like all the time. |

| Warnings: nsfw!! Literally zero plot just smut. (Mutual?) Masturbation, pining, wet dreams, inappropriate use of a pillow. |

| Words: 700+ |

| Summary: Lately you and Izuku have been sharing one another’s wet dreams. Oblivious to the fact that the other is experiencing the same dreams, you’ve been tip-toeing around one another for weeks. |

.   .   .

Your skin was softer than the silver silken sheets beneath you, jumping and reddening underneath his hands as they explored the planes and curves of your body. Your half-lidded gorgeous eyes stared up at him, lips parted as hot puffs of air were pushed from your legs with each pump of his hips as his cock dragged between your soft thighs. Your eyes squeezed themselves shut as his shaft repeatedly rubbed over your swollen clit, the slippery underside massaging between your puffy folds to slide blissfully against your pink labia. His gaze shifted from your ecstasy-twisted face to where his cock slipped between your thighs, glistening with your juices and producing an obscene wet sound of soaked flesh on flesh. Your hands surround your bouncing breasts, squeezing the supple globes between them, skin spilling out between your fingers. You were panting and whispering out gentle praises, beginning to get louder and moan out his name in a chant as you approached your orgasm. Your hands released your boobs and wrapped around his neck. His pace quickened when you pulled him down and brushed your lips against his ear, begging him to push inside of you, to fuck you, make you cum. And when he drew the tip of his cock to your pretty pink entrance and shoved himself inside of you, your voice peaked in pitch, pleading for him to keep going, to cum inside of you. Izuku woke with a start, breathing heavily and covered in sweat. His blurry eyes were met with darkness instead of your beautiful face, and he groaned when he realized he was humping the shit out of his pillow. 

He kept bucking against the plushy object, letting the stuffing now bunched towards the middle envelop his bare cock that had slipped from his boxer shorts.

“Ahm… mmm, a-ah…”

Drool dribbled down his chin as he grew close, images of you and his lewd dream flashing through his mind as his balls began to tighten. In his frenzy to reach his release, a small hint of One For All activated, surrounding his squirming body in bright green sparks as he humped his pillow at an inhuman pace.

“Ah, ah, ghnnn! Oh fuck, oh god, fuck, Y/N p-please!” He moaned into the pillow, imagining you on your knees, breasts surrounding his cock and your mouth sucking sensually at the tip.

An image of you arching and screaming out as your orgasm overtook you, his name falling from your lips shoved him right over the edge. No longer caring how loud he was, he let out a series of lustful cries into his pillow as he finally tensed and convulsed, cock twitching as he came, covering the pillowcase with his thick cum as it shot out. He whimpered and panted for breath as his hips continued to weakly grind against the damp fabric, riding out his orgasm as the knot in his stomach unwound with every spasm. He collapsed into his mattress, heaving raggedly as he came down from his dizzying high. When he came back down to earth and his big green eyes reopened, he was met with the glowing light of his alarm clock sitting near his bed.

It was 3 AM. He shivered in discomfort when he felt his sticky release drop onto his thighs and onto the pillow. His face burned bright with embarrassment when he realized what he's done. He jumps out of bed, hastily stripping out of his damp boxers and ripping the soaked pillowcase off of the pillow. He rushed to shove the soiled garments into the laundry and jump in the shower to rinse away the shame. That was the fourth wet dream he had of you this week. And the nth time he's woken up hard and or covered in his own cum. .   .   . You panted heavily through your parted lips with glossy eyes, reddened cheeks and shaking thighs as you removed your slick-covered hand from your panties. The covers were kicked off the bed and you were sweating up a storm, skin buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm. Your head turned to the side to check the time, your clock reading 3 AM. You'd awoken squirming around on the sheets and rubbing your thighs together after a particularly vivid dream about your green-haired classmate, again. When was this going to end? .   .   . You could barely look one another in the eyes the next morning. Guilty, longing, and oblivious.

[homeformyheart]

bucket list - all pairings (twc)

author’s note: i woke up one morning with the thought of what would each UB RO do if they found out the detective had a bucket list because they thought they might die soon from all the supernatural activity, and we’ll all have to thank @pearlsandsteel, @kelseaaa, @wayhavenots, and @ohnobbwhatisyoudoing for bullying encouraging me to do this (if you don’t like it, blame them; if you like it, thank them). hope you all enjoy!

copyright: all characters, except the oc detectives, are owned by mishka jenkins @seraphinitegames. series/pairing: the wayhaven chronicles – all pairings (6 detectives) rating/warnings: 14+; minor angst based on/prompt: inspired by the movie a walk to remember word count: ~3.5k words in total (~500-700 words per pairing) summary: the detective has a bucket list of things they’d like to do before they die (these are all canon stories). each pairing is featured in a ~500-700 word drabble.

1. adam du mortain x detective lyra kingston x nate sewell (LT) 2. mason x detective ria knight 3. nate sewell x detective cassie knight 4. felix hauville x detective harley bishop** 5. adam du mortain x detective regina bishop** 6. mason x detective brooklyn kingston**

** the ones with asterisks have little easter eggs / connection to other prompt fills / fics i’ve written for those pairings. bonus points if you can figure out what they are before you get to the end of those!

and tell me which one you liked best / least 👀 (i need to know your angst thresholds for research).

bucket list

1. adam du mortain x detective lyra kingston x nate sewell (LT) (~600 words)

lyra rummaged through the drawer of her nightstand, tossing out old receipts, rubber bands, and other random knick-knacks that she really didn’t need but kept anyway “just in case.” her fingers finally wrapped around a thick card-sized envelope and she yanked it out of the drawer triumphantly, instantly recognizing the pale yellow color and her name written on the outside.

a knock on the door made her spin around and instinctively hide the card behind her back. nate opened the door, leaning casually against the doorway, and smiled gently at her in a way that made her forget she was supposed to be annoyed with him for how secretive he was.

“did you find what you were looking for?”

lyra nodded before walking out into the living room and sitting down on the couch. she patted the seat to her left and nate obliged, sitting close enough that their thighs touched. she did her best to ignore adam from where he was standing just a few feet away. he had insisted on coming with them to retrieve lyra’s belongings, for added protection and since nate couldn’t drive.

“it’s the card my dad wrote for me when i was born,” she said quietly, her usual energy tempered. “it’s been a while since i’ve read it.”

her fingers trembled as she opened the flap of the envelope and slid the plain white card out, the only embellishment being a simple watercolor of a few hydrangeas on the front.

nate hesitantly wrapped an arm around lyra’s waist, moving slowly and watching carefully for any signs that it would be unwelcome in the moment. he relaxed when lyra instinctively leaned towards him, the subtle shift in her body language not going unnoticed by a certain commanding agent from his station by the window.

“will you tell me about it?” nate asked softly, seeming to have forgotten they weren’t alone.

lyra opened the card and ran her fingers down rook’s scrawl-like handwriting. she swallowed heavily to keep the tears stinging her eyes at bay.

“nothing to tell really, he wrote stuff about how much he loved me already and couldn’t wait to show me the world,” she said quietly, her voice breaking. she cleared her throat. “he wrote a list of things he wanted me to experience.”

she grabbed a pen from her purse and proceeded to cross out items on the list, stopping only to circle the last one.

fall in love

nate leaned in closer, running his finger down the list of crossed out words before pausing on the last one and looking up at lyra quizzically.

her throat was suddenly dry. she dropped her gaze towards her lap. “bobby doesn’t count,” she whispered. “that wasn’t love. my dad would want me to be with someone who loves me for me.”

nate tilted her chin up with a finger so she was looking into his eyes again. “i hope one day i could be that someone,” nate murmured, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

lyra’s breath caught in her throat and she blushed under his intense glaze. “well, you’re certainly, um,” she paused and glanced away to collect herself, making eye contact with adam inadvertently. her body tensed subconsciously, warring with itself to stay in nate’s warmth and ignore adam’s magnetic pull.

she tore her eyes away from the pained look on adam’s face and forced a smile.

“you make it easy, nate,” she said, her own smile growing genuinely in response to nate’s, despite the soft bitter edge in her voice and how it cut through adam like a knife.

* * * * * 2. mason x detective ria knight (~560 words)

ria clutched a crumpled up note in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other, the thin paper disintegrating rapidly as she inhaled deeply, letting the smoke burn the back of her throat and lungs until she couldn’t take it anymore. her head fell back against the gate as she exhaled, the cloud of smoke stinging her eyes since she refused to close them.

just tell him.

“tell me what?” a gruff voice broke through the haze and made her blink. she hadn’t realized she said anything out loud.

she carefully schooled her features with a look of indifference as she crushed the cigarette under her foot.

“bold of you to assume i was referring to you,” she shrugged, turning to walk the short distance to the warehouse.

mason fell into step beside her, an easy silence settling over them both. ria kept crinkling the paper in her hand with her thumb, crumpling and uncrumpling it over and over again, glancing at it every so often until they were in the living room.

if mason was curious about what was on the piece of paper, he didn’t show it.

“what do you have there, ria?” felix’s eager voice brought ria’s attention back to the present and she inwardly groaned.

felix was the last person she wanted around right now. he was too observant for his own good.

“a bucket list,” she muttered, crumpling the paper inside a tight fist.

“what’s a bucket list?” the younger vampire asked.

ria sighed. “it’s a list that people make of things they want to do before they die,” she said, her voice so uncharacteristically soft that mason almost wondered if he had misheard. “i know my life is in constant danger, so i thought it might help to make sure i write down what’s important to me.”

felix’s mouth parted in surprise, but mason interrupted before he could say anything. “what’s on the list?” he asked gruffly, though not unkindly.

ria gave him a long, hesitant look. “i wanted to show you my dad’s grave. catch him up on everything,” she said, her gaze dropping. “it’s been a while since i’ve gone to see him.”

“name the time and place, sweetheart,” mason said quietly, the weight of his words washing over her and softening her features. he stepped closer to her, even though felix would be able to hear everything he said anyway. “you’re not dying on my watch.”

she swallowed the snarky, defensive retort that sat on the tip of her tongue. “thank you,” she mouthed silently instead.

“is there anything else on your list?” felix asked, stepping closer to ria.

she quickly pulled her hand behind her back and walked past him. “nothing important,” she snapped, tossing the crumpled ball of paper into the trash before heading to her room.

felix exchanged a knowing look with mason and dug the ball out of the trash, carefully uncrumpling it.

“this isn’t much of a list, there are only two things on here,” he said, trying to smooth out the paper so he could read her handwriting.

mason snatched the paper before felix could read the rest of it, skimming over the words himself, brows furrowing tighter before he let it drop to the floor. felix picked it up as mason stormed out of the warehouse, reading the only other thing that ria had written on her bucket list:

tell mason i love him.

* * * * * 3. nate sewell x detective cassie knight (~600 words)

cassie grabbed a tissue from the box on her coffee table, wiping her tears furiously as the credits of the movie they had finished watching began rolling on the screen. nate turned off the television with a smile, wrapping an arm around cassie and pulling her closer until she was practically in his lap.

“i thought you’ve seen this movie before,” he teased, rubbing his hand soothingly up and down her arm.

cassie elbowed him playfully. “don’t judge me. i love the book but the movie always gets me, especially when he helps her finish her bucket list.”

“i can honestly say i prefer the book,” he said, genuinely surprised to see this side of cassie.

he hadn’t seen her this at ease in a long time, maybe ever. she looked comfortable and content, despite her puffy eyes and red nose, all of which he found absolutely endearing.

“the nathaniel sewell, connoisseur of historical tomes and vintage novels, read a nicholas sparks’ romance novel?”

it was cassie’s turn to be surprised.

things were still relatively new between them, but not for lack of effort. the steady stream of missions and supernatural activity in wayhaven kept them both far too busy for comfort. and when they weren’t on missions, she still had a lot of work at the station and nate always had mission-related paperwork and research to do.

it shouldn’t have been a surprise that there wasn’t much they knew of each other when it came to personal quirks and guilty pleasures, but nate wanted to know more.

nate’s gaze dropped at cassie’s inquiring look. “i—um, dated someone a while ago who really enjoyed his books and i thought reading them would help.”

he could almost see the gears turning in her head as her eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“i could see why you might think it would make someone fall in love with you,” she said finally, a wistful distance settling into her eyes. “bobby liked to compare himself to noah calhoun from the notebook.”

nate felt his entire body tense and he had to clench his jaw to keep from violently flinching. just the thought of that reporter and how he had mistreated cassie was enough to make his blood boil.

“you said you liked the part where landon helps jamie with her bucket list. do you have one?” nate asked, trying to turn the conversation back to a safer topic.

cassie’s eyes widened slightly in confusion before she realized what nate was doing and gave him a grateful smile. “i do, actually. i’ve been meaning to update it,” she said, reaching for a leather-bound journal resting on the coffee table and flipping to a page in the back.

“may i?” he asked, noting the flicker of hesitation darkening her green eyes for a fraction of a second before she nodded.

nate took the journal from her and skimmed the list. it mostly comprised of things he thought were consistent with how thoughtful cassie was, but the second-to-last item stole the breath from his lungs in a painful way.

live to 30

he put the journal down before grabbing both of her hands. “i will do everything in my power to keep you safe, i promise. you will get to live beyond thirty,” he said, his eyes flashing with a seriousness that was rarely directed at her.

“then i will look forward to the day i can cross that one out,” cassie said, giving him a warm smile.

nate felt his breath return to him as cassie settled against his side once more, her warmth reminding him to cherish these rare moments they shared.

* * * * * 4. felix hauville x detective harley bishop (~500 words)

harley scanned the legal pad in front of her, two-thirds of it filled out with various experiences and things she wanted to do sooner rather than later. it took meeting felix and the rest of unit bravo for her to realize that she had become very content and complacent with her life. felix’s enthusiasm for this world made her want to explore and experience things.

but more than anything, hayley wanted to feel alive.

the trappers had become more brazen and the number of close-calls in the past few weeks didn’t sit well with her. she never really had any personal ambition or dreams, but she knew now that she wanted more moments with felix.

she looked down at the list that seemed to keep growing by the hour.

show felix the grotto

take felix camping

learn how to cook one dish

a knock on her door, followed by the sight of felix’s head peeking around the doorframe made her look up.

“hey babe, what are you up to?” he asked, clambering on top of her bed to get as close to her as possible.

“i’m just putting together a bucket list of things i want to do while i still have the chance,” she replied, trying to keep her voice light.

felix lifted his head from her shoulder so he could study her face. she made a point of avoiding eye contact as she held up the legal pad.

“these are some of my favorite spots in wayhaven,” harley said, her finger running down between the numbers three and ten. “i want to make sure that you get to see them.”

“and i can’t wait. but we have plenty of time for that babe,” felix said, wrapping his arm around her waist and tugging her closer. “i promise.”

“but what if we don’t?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “i want to make sure you don’t forget me.”

truthfully, that was what really had been bothering her the past few weeks. harley worried that compared to felix’s eternal life, hers was not only insignificant, but also incredibly boring.  

he gently cupped her face in his hands. “i would never want to forget you. and we’re going to be together for a very long time, okay?”

she nodded and mustered a small smile. “okay,” she said, a warm flush spreading from the touch of his skin on her face through her body.

he gave her a soft kiss before grabbing the legal pad from her hands. “i want to add stuff to the list too. things i want to do with you,” he said, his cheerful energy rubbing off on her as she handed him a pen.

she rested her chin on his shoulder this time, so she could watch as he scribbled a few things near the bottom. they were mostly ideas for different types of date activities, but the last thing he wrote made her lift her head and freeze.

tell harley i love her.

harley looked at felix, stunned, to find him smiling softly at her. “one day, really soon,” he murmured, his eyes shining before his lips enveloped hers in a kiss. and she knew that day couldn’t come soon enough.

reference fic: camping.

* * * * * 5. adam du mortain x detective regina bishop (~570 words)

regina watched adam play with their children from where she was sitting on the porch, pretending that ten-year-old jacques and seven-year-old cecilia were able to pin him to the ground. she smiled as their youngest, four-year-old philip, waddled over and placed a fistful of daisies on adam’s face, before sitting down and rearranging them with a look of concentration on his round face.

she let herself bask in the moment of happiness that she knew would be fleeting, before looking down at the journal on her lap. she pulled out the worn sheet of paper tucked away in the middle, covered in hasty scribbles and crossed-out words on each layer of sticky notes, a bucket list she made years ago and continued to update.

tell adam i love him

get married

build a house by the sea

revive the du mortain line

raise our family together

regina smiled as she quickly skimmed over the crinkled pile of notes, sifting through them carefully so as not to further wear down the adhesive before she got near the bottom and pulled out a bright green-colored sticky note with only one thing written on it. all the other notes in the pile were pink and blue because she had wanted this one to stand out so she could easily find it.

turn?

don’t turn?

decide whether to turn

her smile faded. it hadn’t taken long to work through everything else she put on her bucket list. even the ones that took considerable effort (and really, it was mainly getting adam to come around to having kids), she was able to accomplish through sheer stubbornness and determination. but this last one was different.

regina was afraid to bring it up with adam and she knew he wouldn’t bring it up first. she knew him well enough by now that he would insist that this needed to be her decision and hers alone and refuse to influence her either way. but because she understood him better than he understood himself most days, she also knew that her death might break him and return him to an even darker and more repressed version of himself than before.

a sudden darkness brought her attention back up to meet a pair of wavering green eyes. her gaze flicked past him to note the children still playing together in the yard before meeting his again as he sat down next to her, reaching over to clasp his hand over hers.

“your bucket list?” he asked, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

when he first found out she had created one, under the assumption that she could die at any moment, he was unsurprisingly fearful, and remained simultaneously distant and protective for a long while. it did, however, help spark the conversation between them about having children.

regina nodded. “i still can’t believe i managed to accomplish all the things i’ve written down over the years. i just really have one thing left to figure out.”

adam intertwined his fingers with hers and stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. the small circles he drew seemed to relieve some of the tension in both of their shoulders.

“whatever you decide,” he said finally, a noticeable strain in his voice. “i will respect it.”

“thank you,” she responded quietly, a thick tension sending a chill over them both despite the bright and warm sun and the laughter of their children surrounding them.

reference fic: cottage by the sea.

* * * * * 6. mason x detective brooklyn kingston (~530 words)

mason leaned against the side of brooklyn’s desk as they turned off their computer and pulled out a loose sheet of paper.

“what’s that?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

things had been relatively calm in town and even though the quiet made adam tense and stern, mason enjoyed the reprieve. especially since it meant that he got to spend more time with brooklyn. they had threatened to quit the team and move out of town not that long ago, but had yet to follow through.

he wasn’t going to question them on it. he had already made it clear that he would follow them to the end.

“a bucket list,” they replied distractedly, not even bothering to look up at him. “a list of things i want to do before i leave wayhaven.”

mason raised an eyebrow. so they were still planning to leave. he leaned over and let his finger land on the sheet, pinning it to the desk.

“this is an ambitious list,” he remarked as he scanned the list of thirty things or so, most of which had been crossed out.

they lifted his finger and swatted his hand away before smoothing out the page. “are you doubting me?”

“i’d never do that, brooks,” he said, pulling a cigarette from his pocket. “come on, i’ll take you home.”

“i’m going to dinner at verda’s and he’ll take me home after. i’ll see you tomorrow,” brooklyn said quickly, grabbing the cigarette from his fingers and tossing it into the trash can under their desk.

“i should make you start paying for those,” he growled playfully.

brooklyn chuckled. “or you could stop buying them. now get going so i can finish up here.”

he smirked and leaned in close enough that they could trace the freckles on his face with their nose if they leaned forward just a little.

“do i get a kiss before i go?” he asked with a smirk on his face, his gaze focused on their lips.

their eyes flicked down to his lips and back up to his grey eyes, the playfulness simmering behind a seriousness that made their breath catch. they tilted their head slightly and leaned forward to press their lips to his, letting his wrap around theirs for a brief second before pulling away.

“goodbye, mason,” they murmured, smiling gently at him, hoping the ache in their chest wasn’t visible in any way.

mason’s eyes fluttered open and his heartbeat thudded in his ears, the sound becoming more familiar each time they kissed. this time, however, brooklyn’s lips felt different and not in any way that he could pinpoint. mason’s eyes searched theirs, confused but unable to figure out exactly why he felt so uneasy.

after a moment, he shrugged and got up from their desk, turning back to nod at them once before heading out. brooklyn’s smile faded and they looked over their list one more time. the few they had left were ones they had planned on knocking out that evening, starting with verda and his family.

they just hadn’t expected to complete the last item so soon:

say goodbye to mason.

reference fic: menage

* * * * * permatag: @kelseaaa; @kat-tia801; @anotherbeingsworld; @crackerdumortain; @pearlsandsteel; @gloynporslen; @writer-ish; @sosolenoo; @alyssalauren; @fhauvilles; @wayhavenots; @gingerbreton; @takemyopenheart; nate x detective: @missameliep;

[ray-ray-writings]

700 Friend Behind the Scene Special!

Hello there! So a little bit of back story, everything I write is written in a google doc because it automatically saves everything and I can think clearer when I’m typing in a document. Sometimes when I’m writing, I’ll get tired or get stuck or write something I don’t like. So I’ll make a note to myself of what I was writing so I can come back to it later, or write out the basic idea of what I want to happen so I can visualize it in words better, or hit enter a few times and re-write somethings. So in celebration of me hitting 700 friends I have gathered a few of those things so that I can share with you a little bit of my thought process, but also so you might have a laugh or may see where some of your favorite stories almost went. I don’t know if any of you will actually like this or actually care, but I thought that it was something cool lol. So here you go! I hope you enjoy!!!

Notes to Self/Prompts to Myself

A Dedicated and Domesticated Pig: *Note to future self so I know what I was going for. He’s making breakfast with your child on your hip. I’m thinking a daughter named something with Phil’s name maybe or maybe just a T name. Then you two are leaving for a festival in L’Manberg where Philza interacts with your daughter. And the night ends with you three cuddled up together and you’re reminiscing on how he asked you out and then it all comes full circle somehow using the words dedicated because we’re that kind of simp*

Gift of Friendship: Techno- “I made friendship bracelets”. “I don’t wear jewelry” “oh okay. I can take it back. You don’t have to wear it I’ll take it back-“ “no I will wear this until the day I die

Notes in general: There are a lot of *Insert title here* or *Insert really cool and creative title here*

There is also a lot of *Insert really nice summary here that sums everything up but is also clever*

Actually Pretty Funny: I knew I wanted to use “Tommy leave me alone” “Tommy told me you were in here crying” “That little snitch” but I didn’t know where so I made a note to use it. 

What Could Have Been or Almost Was

This has a few pieces of writing but is mostly about what I almost titled the pieces you know and love. 

Stolen Goods: I was about to retort but the sound of the nether portal activating cut my words off.

“We’re back!” I heard my younger brother call out. Techno and I walked together toward the portal to greet our brothers, but they weren’t alone. “Hey guys! Oh hey Dream,” I greeted the three, setting my chest down next to the wood I brought in earlier. “Hey Y/N/N? Get what we asked for?” Tommy asked, walking toward me. I simply stared at him and then looked at the pile of wood beside me. “No” I deadpanned. 

I then turned to my chest and quickly put my axe away. “Then what’s that?” Tommy questioned in confusion. I rolled my eyes, closed my chest and turned to him. “What you asked for dummy” “But you just said no?” “I was being sarcastic!” I exclaimed, moving toward him and slightly pushing him. “Well I didn’t know that!” Tommy exclaimed, pushing me back. “Hey! Hey! Hey! Stop pushing each other.” Wilbur demanded, “Just say thank you and move on Tommy.” Tommy huffed but said, “Thank you Y/N.” “You’re welcome Tommy.” 

“So is this how you four interact all the time?” Dream questioned, moving closer to the two of us. I let out a laugh and turned to the masked man, “Yeah. Pretty much. Sometimes we get along, but sometimes they get on my nerves.” I informed the man, while playfully glaring at 

A Hairy Situation: I had a lot of trouble coming up with a cool title for “a Hairy Situation” . It almost was like “Braided Together” or something like that but I was like, it’s about hair. It’s a situation. It’s a Hairy Situation.

Either Lean on Me or 3am conversation I don’t remember: Tommy did something. He did something bad” Tubbo admitted. I nodded to show the young man I was listening to, “Okay,” I prompted. “Tommy was messing around and he accidentally set George’s house on fire.” My eyes widened at Tubbo’s words. “His new house?” I asked in disbelief. Tubbo nodded, staring into his cup. “Dream is pissed.” He continued. “He gave me an ultimatum. He said that either we go to war or…” Tubbo’s words died on his tongue. “Or what?” I asked, attempting to gently prompt the boy. “What’s the other option Tubbo?” “Or exile Tommy.” His words hit me like a ton of bricks.

Missing You: This fic was almost titled “Radio silence” and was almost irl and was about the day that he got that prank pulled on him where everyone in his Discord was muted and not talking to him. And I almost wrote it so you’re in that call and you are participating in the prank and he just guilt trips you so hard that you unmute and are like “I’m so sorry!” 

Better Than a Dedicated Chicken was almost titled “A Funtime Festival”. But then I was like, ‘I hate that. Since it’s a sequel I want to keep a theme… Maybe something about dedication.’ and thus this was born. 

Faking Happy- I almost left it on the sad ending where Sam flies away using his trident and you collapse and sob by yourself in the rain. And then I added more to it because I was sad. 

Protect You was almost titled “Looking out for you” but I thought that might be too clunky and so I shorten it and stuff.

Wither or Not almost ended without the whole ‘techno goes to your house to comfort you’ scene at the end and almost ended in angst, but I was too sad to do that because I knew the next Techno piece I was writing was going to end in angst. 

Not Your Fault almost was going to be a different story completely than what it became. I thought a lot about how to do it but the ways I wanted to write it and the way the anon who requested it probably wanted it but I couldn’t make the prompts fit well in the way I wanted to write it. I thought about having you be on a bridge drinking alone because you had to exile your brothers and Schlatt approaches you there and you’re like “leave me alone. I hate you” and he’s like “no you don’t” and it’s a bit angsty, but then I couldn’t figure out how to fit “I had to see you again in that”. And then I thought about having him exile you and come and see you with a “I had to see you again” but then he would know where pogtopia is and we can’t have that. So then I thought maybe you’d visit him before he gets killed but then I couldn’t figure out how to fit the prompts that way either. So I finally settled on what it became. 

Chat’s a Snitch was almost titled “My New Boyfriend’s a Songwriter” and instead of being in established relationship, him seeing you sing his song would be how you two meet and he would fall in love with you and write you a song, but then that wouldn’t have really been what the request was and I didn’t want to deviate that much from the request and I think I was feeling a bit lazy that day so I wrote what it is. 

Defending Family was another one I had a hard time coming up with a cool and clever title for. At one point I considered titling it “i will physically fight you”

Crossed Lines was almost called “Hold tight” because I had this idea that maybe when Dream kidnapped you he put you somewhere high and at once point you dangle over the edge, about to fall and so they scream ‘hold tight’ and yeah. I decided not to though because I wasn’t sure how I would go about putting the reader there and getting them down. But once I wrote it due to the amount of times I said “that’s crossing a line” I decided to title it crossed lines. I think this piece is actually one of my least favorites because I’m not sure if I liked how it turned out but idk man. 

Totem Troubles was almost called “To Hell and Back” because in the request they wanted me to include hints of the story of Orpheus and Euridice but when I was unable to do that, I had to come up with a new title and I really had a hard time with that. 

The Next Step was almost called “Come Live with Me” because I loved the musical ‘Hadestown’. At first I wanted that particular imagine to have more Techno/reader scenes, but then I had a hard time figuring out how to bring up the things and then it felt too short. Then I was like “What if he just talks to Phil about it” and boom it was written. I’m still a huge musical nerd so I titled it “The Next Step” because in a Beetlejuice song two of the main characters are thinking of making a huge step in their relationship and that line is repeated over and over so I stole it…. :). Also for this one I had to literally just take a step back and write out a full ass summary because I was having really really bad writer’s block because I had no idea what I was doing. Unfortunately I don’t have that, I wish I did because it was really funny because it was a summary of the story but it was like “And so Philza’s like bro. Dude. Just tell them” and then Techno’s like “No dad. Stay out of my business” and Philza’s like “Bro. Look around at your house. You love them” 

Warming Up didn’t become the title of that piece until the very end. When I read requests I always give them a ‘working title’ that may or may no become the real title when they’re finished and ready to be posted. This one however had a title that was just a joke for myself. It was titled “The Weasel” because Y/N was weaseling her way into Techno’s home and then later his heart. 

Calling Philza Dad Drabble: When you greet him though, you always greet him with a hug usually calling out from the door way, “Dad! I’m home!” Very cheesy like. And he comes around the corner and you two hug. And then after you hug, you are like “I missed you!!!” to Phil. And Phil touches his heart and is like, “That’s so nice to hear. 

So you usually come over everyday. Everyday when you come over, you always shout out, “Dad! I’m home!” And he rushes out but there are days you don’t and so the next time you d

There was a time though that you had to go out of town for like a week and so you didn’t come over at all and both Techno and Philza found themselves missing you. So the day comes where you get home and you come barreling in the door. You can see Philza in the kitchen cooking something and he quickly turns to the door in shock. You simply grin at him and shout, “DAD! I’M HOME!!!” And he immediately rushed out of the kitchen and pulls you into a great big, warm hug which you instantly returned. “I missed you so so so much!” You announced as you squeeze him tightly. 

Warming up working description: Y/N is dying in the snow and Philza’s like “We gotta save them!” and Techno’s like “Why is that our problem?” but helps anyway and then falls in love with Y/N…. Ya know, cliches and shit

I hope you enjoyed reading this monstrosity! Would this be something you guys are interested in seeing? Like a behind the scenes version of my writing. Like I save things like this when I write them and when I have a good chuck I post them? Up to you guys, let me know!

[markrichardson]

My Year in Spotify Listening

Like a lot of people I checked out the Spotify year-end summary thingy, and since Spotify is only a certain percentage of my listening, the results were surprising, and I tried to figure out what it meant. In general, I listen to new music via iTunes, if I am sent promos. That only encompasses a certain amount of new music of course, but if I’m sent a download, I tend to use that for my listening all year long. Often, I’m “done with” an album more or less by the time it comes out, but sometimes I’ll keep listening (as w/ DJ Koze this year) and I do that with my promo files. My Spotify listening tends to be a mix of things I stick on a few different playlists based on mood or genre, and they could come from anywhere (but they aren’t usually new). 

In terms of my favorite artists (Bill Evans wound up in my top spot, somehow, followed by Joni Mitchell) it was hard to figure out how it’d happened, because I didn’t spend the year obsessed with either. Then I looked at my 100 most played songs, and that did bring back a few things. I’m not sure if the whole list is in order, but the first 5 songs in the playlist are the 5 listed when Spotify gave me my most-listened-to tracks of the year, so I think so? Anyway, that’s what I am going with here. This is how my Top 10 songs show up on the playlist, in order, with one exception: in the middle of the list was Bow Wow Wow’s “See Jungle,” which I already wrote about on Tumblr 8 years ago (and about which I have very little to say now, except that yes I do still listen to this song a fair amount), so I’ve omitted that and included No. 11. 

Wussy: “Runaway” This was my favorite song of the year, it has 600 plays on Youtube and 5,400 on Spotify, which makes me a little sad. Technically it’s not from this year—Wussy put this out on a small-release tape or CD-R a few years ago—but I’m still counting it. This is the rare case where the streaming media playcounts tend to match the responses of folks I’ve talked to about this song—I mentioned to 4 or 5 people, and in each case they said “Yeah that’s kind of nice I guess...why do you like it so much?” I’ll try to answer that here.  

First I should say that I have no real interest in or knowledge of Wussy. They’re an indie rock band from Ohio, most notable at this point for the fact that Robert Christgau loves them, and has written rapturous reviews of their work over the years, which surely has helped them to achieve whatever small amount of notoriety they have. I checked them out here and there but they didn’t make much of an impression on me. I wish I could remember how I came across this particular song, but I can’t, probably either Twitter or a streaming media algorithm. But I loved it immediately, like, stop-what-you-are-doing-and-listen kind of loved. It just clicked. 

The first thing that comes to mind is the chorus: “I love you, let’s run away.” That’s the theme of so many of my favorite songs, I mean, the first album I bought in my life was “Born to Run,” and if you could sum up the first three Springsteen albums in in 6 words, “I love you, let’s run away” wouldn’t be bad. And I think I liked that this song didn’t try for poetic phrasing, just said it in the simplest way possible.

But the romance of a song like this has a shade of darkness to it, and that draws me in even more. Escape is never a long-term strategy. Eventually you have to figure out how to make life work when you’re in the thick of it. So while it’s such an appealing dream to exit the world with someone you’re crazy about, there is a shelf life to that sort of gesture. I relate to this idea of being fed up with everything in the moment and wanting to jump in the car with the only person who gets you, but eventually, the car is is going to need gas. What then? 

I didn’t know when I first heard this song that it was a cover, so the immediate impact of it was as a Wussy song. But I learned that it was written and recorded by another Ohio artist that people in the band had known, a woman named Jenny Mae. She died last year. Pitchfork did a news story on her passing. She was 49. And when I found that it was her song, I listened to her version and I loved it almost as much (but not quite), though her take also made my Spotify Top 20. I did think enough of her version to order the 7-inch, which was her first release. When I read about Jenny Mae’s life, the song took on another layer of meaning. She suffered from mental illness and self-medicated with alcohol. And she was described by people who knew her as brilliant and creative and hilarious but also impulsive and self-destructive. Which for me gives a sentiment like “No one likes us anyway / I hate my job / Sweet, sweet are the innocent / I love you, let’s run away” and “40 ounce between your legs/ Shakin up my heart / Turn around and look at me / Light another smoke” a different tint. These are the kinds of things you say when in the throes of a rush of feeling, but they’re not impulses you can safely follow for a lifetime, even though goddammit, sometimes I want to.

Bo Diddley: “Nursery Rhyme” In Richmond early this year I bought an old Bo Diddley album called The Originator. I saw it in a used bin, it was $20, and, it was pure instinct, I had a feeling it was interesting. For me, buying used records, $20 is a fair amount of money, I don’t pay that for something I’ve no idea about, typically. But something compelled me to pick it up. I was intrigued that it had none of the hits I knew. And I took it home and when I put it on a short while later it blew my mind. This surprised me because on the one hand it sounds so much like the idea of “Bo Diddley” I keep in my brain, the one rhythm we know from the song he named after himself, but this was just so controlled, so well rendered, with so much atmosphere. The whole thing is brilliant. I became particularly obsessed with this cut from the record, and then I started exploring the “Bo Diddley” beat in general, reading whatever I could about it and listening to examples. This kind of random deep-dive is the best thing about the internet era for a music fan. 

Mulatu Asatke: “Tezeta (Nostalgia” At nights when I hang out with my Mom at her condo in Michigan I play music over a Bluetooth speaker I bought a year ago. My Mom’s default has for a while been to put the television on, but at some point I asked her about playing music instead so we could talk or just hang out, and she grew to like it. Sometimes we’ll chat about stuff, and sometimes she will play Candy Crush on her iPad while I do things on my phone, which sounds distant but is actually very comforting to me. One of the things I’m doing on my phone during these evenings is finding songs to play. It’s quite fun (and interesting) for me to say to myself “What is a playlist that would make my Mom happy?” and then try and figure out what that might be on the fly. She was never really a music person so I don’t have a lot to go on, mostly her age, a story or two about a song she liked, and a vague knowledge of what she might have heard on the radio in my lifetime. 

In September, my Dad died, and I stayed with my Mom in her condo for a number of days that month. I felt a strange mix of feelings. On the one hand, he was father, I missed him, I thought about never being able to talk to him again, to not be able to share the things in my life. I thought about the fact that I wouldn’t be able to learn more about his life, my knowledge of which is pretty sketchy. There were all the usual things a person would be sad about. But then there was the fact that he had a severe and debilitating case of Parkinson’s disease for the last eight years, and at times he suffered so terribly. I remembered how on a few occasions he called me while he was delusional, he would tell me that he was sure he was going to die. One time, he told me that he saw someone in the driveway who was going to kill him. Another time, he said that it was hard to explain but that he had been split into two people, and he couldn’t take it, he was terrified. I told him that it would be better tomorrow and he yelled, “I’m going to be dead by tomorrow!” I would get calls like this while I was walking to work in Brooklyn 700 miles away, and I would feel so helpless. And so when he passed, I thought about him during situations like that, and also felt like maybe not he had some peace. 

A night or two after my Dad died I was sitting with my Mom, talking, and playing music. She dug out some old photos and we were looking at them, pictures from her in high school that I had never seen. I wanted to see everything, learn every detail. And over that Bluetooth speaker I was playing some random playlist I had found called something like “Jazz for late night.” I wanted background music. And while we were hanging out and talking, this song came on, “Tezeta” by the Ethiopian jazz bandleader Mulatu Astatke. And man, it’s hard to describe, but the mood of this song so perfectly captured the exact feeling I had. The phrase that comes to mind is “bombed out,” that’s the way it seemed, like I’d been beaten up and thrown in a ditch and my ears were ringing and now I was trying to reorient myself after all that had happened. There was a feeling of weariness and sadness but also a feeling that life continues, that we have to gather our memories and keep on. And this impossibly beautiful song captured every bit of that, the one-chord riff moving ahead, in spite of it all, while the sax line captures all the sadness dripping off everything at the same time. I listened to it constantly in the weeks afterward.  

Galaxie 500: “Fourth of July” (live) One of my favorite songs by one of my favorite band in my favorite version. This song is indicative of how (as with all songs on this list) when I’m in the mood I can listen to one track over and over. On a couple of occasions in 2018, I listened to this maybe 8 or 9 times in a row, immediately hitting “back” when it had finished. And the thing I was typically listening to was Naomi Yang’s bassline, which to me holds the lion’s share of the song’s feeling. Her bass playing in Galaxie 500 is so incredibly emotional to me, and it was never more so than here. 

Pusha T: “Infrared” The one truly “new” song on here.” I didn’t have an advance of this record so I listened on Spotify when it came out and I loved it. And this song in particular seemed so perfect, the carefully constructed rap, executed as if it’s coming off the top of his head, the sample—I listened to this many times in a row on a few occasions, and it also sent me to revisit Clipse, which brought me a lot of joy. 

Joni Mitchell: “Carey” Another song about freedom, but here it’s real. Blue is a perfect record but I probably revisit this one more than any other single song because I’m so in love with the production—that bass, that hand percussion...sonically, an album recorded almost 50 years ago simply cannot be improved upon. I remember hearing this one on AM radio when I was very young. It was a single, b/w “This Flight Tonight,” one hell of a 7-inch. I’ve always thought the picture it painted was so incredibly romantic—”Maybe I’ll go to Amsterdam, maybe I’ll go to Rome / And rent me a grand piano and put flowers 'round my room.” Hey, why not! And if Carey is indeed keeping her in this tourist town, we know it’s only for another hour, another day, another week, whenever she’s ready, she can’t be tied down. But then, that’s the future: this night, now, is a starry dome, and we’re alive, inside it. 

Arthur Russell: “That’s Us/Wild Combination” Sometimes w/ my favorite Arthur Russell songs you can hear the strain as he creates a new genre trying to get a particular unnamable feeling across. But not this one. Sitting in a room with his friend Jennifer Warnes he made a song that feels as natural as a breath. 

Carole King: “Pleasant Valley Sunday” I’m in awe of Carole King’s ability to write songs that sound perfect on the radio. Even if her prime hitmaking years only lasted a bit over a decade, the number of her songs with her name on them that left a huge mark on culture is staggering. Her demo for the Monkees hit “Pleasant Valley Sunday” shows how perfect everything was before the artist who would bring the song to the public got anywhere near it. I found this one on Youtube 8 or 9 years ago and it’s been in regular rotation since. 

Hank Williams: “The Angel of Death” In February and March I was doing research my Pitchfork Sunday Review on Bruce Springsteen’s Nebraska. It’s one of my favorite records, and I’ve wanted to write something long on it for years, so spending time w/ it as the winter wound down was an intense pleasure. It’s common knowledge that Springsteen was listening to a lot of Hank Williams when he was writing the album, and when I came across this song, I became obsessed with it. One, the melody sounds right off Nebraska, and “My Father’s House” (another song I listened to a lot this year) especially seems directly modeled on it. But this song has so much going for it on its own. It’s about death and the moment of judgement, but Hank’s melody and phrasing don’t sound frightened. It’s hopeful, a prayer instead of an admonishment. 

Guided by Voices: “Motor Away” I’ve loved this song for years but I listened to it intently around the same time I was playing the Hank Williams, when I was thinking about leaving Pitchfork. I’ve never been a big fan of Robert Pollard’s lyrics (though I love many of his tunes), but he second line here is the one I couldn’t put out of my mind: “When you free yourself from the chance of a lifetime.” That’s where I felt I was. Editing this music magazine that I cared so much about was the culmination of a dream that took a long time, a ton of work, and a fair amount of luck to realize. When the chance of a lifetime comes along, you’re supposed to hold on to it as tightly as possible for as long as possible, until someone finally pries it away, which will happen eventually. I knew that. And yet, deep down, I knew that after 11 years, I wanted to try something else. Run away, motor away, drive away. Sometimes a song can give you the tiniest push.