#it was surprisingly hard to write

[fivewholeminutes]

so. wembley.

Once I have finally gathered my wits the words did not want to stop coming. This rambling is long; apologies for that. And for the messed up tenses I hate tenses we only have one past tense why is English like this

No photos/videos yet, they are still not properly checked/deleted/edited by me.

It was. Unsurprisingly. One of the best days of my life. But also, I don't remember much from my life, so don't trust me on this one. (Kidding, it totally WAS one of the best days of my life). And uhh... I have a problem with processing events and emotions, so it still feels like I have seen it on a TV screen instead of, you know, actually, physically having been there? Idk how to explain that, I still have to convince my brain that I've been there. I feel detached from it completely. But!! I!! Have!! Been!! There!!

I woke up so early that foxes were still roaming the streets. Didn't talk much with people around me in the queue (hello anxiety), but they were lovely! I signed the blue flag for iii from me & Lia, got the sticker for Projekt Atlantic, received some bracelets, exchanged some bracelets, put some sea creatures tattoos on people (LIA I FORGOT TO GIVE YOU THE WHALE!!!), slept on a pavement, bought merch for myself and others (I've never had anyone to buy concert merch for before, it's such a nice feeling 🥺).

And queueing for so long was so fucking worth it! Third row, baby!! For the first time in the middle!! (Which was my downfall later, but the pre-show me was not aware of that just yet). I couldn't actually hear HEALTH that well, but I really liked their drummer, he was enjoying himself and his joy was contagious. (I've checked them later though and. Last album, my beloved.) During the break, well, you all know what was happening, I have been liveblogging everything (sorry about that <3). The moment someone in the crowd literally screeched when they saw the new masks on instagram was a blessing, I wouldn't have survived seeing them in new masks without a warning. Also, my blind ass would probably realise 3 songs in that they have different masks, I shit you not. Besides, it was super fun having a mental breakdown here on tumblr with y'all <3

When Espera entered the stage, everything else stopped being of any importance to me. I remember my first thought was "oh yeah, sure, the ladies are dressed up and moving like this and you expect me to focus on anything else that is happening on this stage?". And of course, my second thought was "I GOTTA TAKE PICTURES FOR DARYA". Naturally, I was trying to keep up with everything else anyway. I haven't seen ii all too well though and it makes me sad :( Alas. I've had a good vantage point for the ladies. Yeah. Brain went brrrrr every time I was looking at them. Where was I again-

I was still coughing at that time. I got a terrible coughing fit after literally 3 short screams during HEALTH and my idiot ass has left all the lozenges except one in the hotel room an hour before the door opening. I thought I would have to spend the rest of the night not singing along nor screaming and felt utterly heartbroken for a few minutes, but after my Holy Grail Lozenge (and a LOT of water from the venue's crew) my cough has abandoned me for the duration of the whole ritual (thank you, Sleep). Even though, when Sam told us that we have to sing, my only thought was "I CAN'T FUCKING SING EITHER, MATE". But I did. Oh, I so fucking did. I sung my lungs out and did not cough even ONCE.

But you know. I was exhausted, anxious, surrounded by strangers and had more sugar in my veins than red cells at that point, so I wasn't my best self. I really thought the karaoke was for shits and giggles at first. "Oh yeah, it's The Most Popular Song, let's see how it sounds when 10k people sing it without the singer's help!", you know. Thought it was for the recording the announcements warned us about. But then we sung Granite. Ohhhkay. And then The Love You Want - certainly not a song they would leave for an impropmtu singalong. It was then that I (belatedly) realised that yeah, something really was wrong and so my heart broke again. So many preparations! Their biggest gig so far! Even iii managed to be there! And something had to happen!! Specifically!! To Vessel!! Of all people!! That was just not fair. He totally didn't deserve this. But it's just life and its endless fucking bad surprises for everyone, huh.

I didn't have enough time to collect all the broken pieces of my heart from the sticky floor and mend them after this realisation, because after Vessel joined the singing for the last few lines of TLYW, he dropped to his knees in front of us crying and thanking everyone. That sight is now carved into my brain. This is when I realised the 3rd row was a mistake. The psychic damage it gave me is irrevocable. Do you have those moments that you will never forget? A few seconds of an (usually traumatic) experience that will haunt you forever, replaying in your mind like a broken record? It was a bit like this for me. It wasn't traumatic, mind you, but it was definitely something that made a permanent dent in my heart and a home in my brain. And I wouldn't change it anyway.

Another thing that made me think that I will just fall down and never get up was iii & iv's hug. It was. So full of love and reassurence. Idk, you could just feel that emitting from them, okay? I was standing there thinking "yeah sure, just fucking murder me tonight instead, okay. Should've kept staring at Espera only-". Ah yes. The ladies. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Where was I again-

The goosebumps when the whole venue yelled "they won't be missing you" during Nazareth, oh my fucking god. On my previous rituals, in way smaller venues, there's always been a handful of people screaming it. And everyone doing it? Unparalleled feeling. Bordering on the shrimp emotions scale.

The lights were spectacular. I cannot describe how amazing the light show was. I am sending a kiss to each and every light crew member.

Also, Vessel being more emotional during the ritual as a whole. The TLYW moment was the worst for me, but there were many others. (Ascensionism and Bloodsport stabbing me with a rusty knife the most.) I mean, who could've blamed him for the emotions, he would probably be very emotional even without the voice issues. Who wouldn't be!! It was a big night, after all. God, it must have been so difficult for him, I really, really fucking hope the love coming from his bandmates, crew and the crowd was enough to help him focus on the good parts of the evening only. And!! It wasn't even that bad!!! Sure, he lost his voice for a while, but once it was back you could!! Barely!! Hear!! The difference!! I have a whole new level of respect for Vessel because of that. And for staying onstage with us for the songs he couldn't sing. Didn't know I could respect him even more than I already did, but hey. Love being surprised like that. I have seen concerts where the singers were singing way worse live while being completely healthy. Like sure, you could notice he's not using so many uhh, how do you call this in English, vocal ornamentations??? and that his voice is strained, but it was still beautiful. Take care of your voice now though, dude, jfc. Thanks for the sacrifice, much appreciated, but TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF OR SO HELP ME GOD I WILL FUCKING FIND YOU- (kidding, kidding. or am i.) I also liked that he was leaving the more screamy moments in songs for us. Aiming the microphone at us, positive we'll have his back. Like yeah, yeah, other bands do that relatively often, but it's not something they usually do, you know.

I can't vouch for everyone in the crowd, but I sure as fuck did not have a SINGLE thought that the show sucks because of his voice issues. Like it didn't even occur to me. Honest to god. I was shocked when I saw on tumblr that people were leaving? Asking for a refund????????????? I was having the time of my life singing those songs. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, probably!! Who can say they karaoked whole 3 songs with the band playing for them live?? Your local karaoke bar could never. (Bonus points, you could hear Espera better bc of that! Yes, I know, you are not supposed to hear backing vocals too loud in general, I'm just saying it was nice hearing them, bc usually I hear them on recordings only.)

Yeah, sure I was disappointed after the show that there was no Euclid, but that's just me, a total whore for Euclid. It's a completely different thing than being a bitch who leaves halfway, because something out of the ordinary has been happening.

Anyways. I would like to wish all the crowdsurfers a very fuck you. Hope you will all step on a lego every day for the rest of your lives <3

Crowdsurfers and constant giving away of water (which I understand, it was terribly hot there and it was needed) were a bit distracting, I missed some things because of the commotion, the drum solo has been disrupted by me getting a (fortunately very light) kick in the mouth and DRUM SOLO IS SACRED. I HOPE THE CROWDSURFER WHO DECIDED TO GO UP IN THAT MOMENT WILL STEP ON 3 LEGOS DAILY. IT'S LITERALLY THE MOST IMPORTANT PART OF THE RITUAL FOR ME AND THEY HAVE RUINED IT. Thanks to another crowdsurfer, I missed the moment the band was throwing stuff into the crowd and I promised Lia I will catch a pick/drumstick for them!!!!!!! I've had a banner for this occassion and all!!!!! And!!!!! For the whole time things were flying from the scene!!!! I have been under someone's legs and ass!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Side note: Vessel was throwing away his rings. That's so fucking cool, ahh.

All in all, half of the things that happened there, I've learned from tumblr. The announcements about the recording, people leaving, Vessel being covered in runes (I WAS STANDING RIGHT BEFORE HIM AND DIDN'T SEE ANYTHING. A N Y T H I N G. I HATE BEING A BLIND IDIOT), the Espera ladies laughing at iii for not coming to the photo, hell, even Vessel trying to get his attention. I have NO idea what I've been doing back then, it's a blur again lmao. And. The most important thing: Vessel's "thank you". I didn't catch it back then. I don't hear it on my recording. Tbh I couldn't believe y'all for a long while that it really happened (I'm sorry). But it did and you know what? I'm glad the broken pieces of my heart were left on the arena's floor earlier during the show. I don't want them anymore.

I would also like to thank that one security guy in huge headphones who was our warning that another fucking crowdsurfer was coming our way. I hope the headphones guy's pillow is always cold on both sides, his skin clear, his crops- and so on. Our hero <3

There was also a moment during Atlantic (another important moment disrupted. Smh) where 2 security persons dived into the crowd?? I still have no idea what was happening, bc if someone faints for example, they are always brught to the barricade by the crowd and security picks them up, I've never seen security getting into the crowd before. And because of that, people around me were talking loudly during Atlantic. Kill kill murder kill

Still, Projekt Atlantic was a huge success and I am so proud of the organisers!! They're in the same category of lovely people as the big headphones security guy

Sending a kiss to @murderofcrow for this gif 🖤

To sum up. I will forever be grateful for this band. This music has activated the dormant parts of my mind. I am making art again. I am meeting cool people because of them. I have people to talk about it with who are as excited about it as I am. For the first time in ages I really feel alive again. And life is not good, far from it, to be completely honest with you, they haven't magically fixed all my problems, but I do have something that actually fucking works on me. I know Vessel wouldn't agree, but they are saving people. And you all, lovely ST pocket of tumblr motherfuckers who are reading this, you are saving people too.

And, last but not least!! In hot pink, because I can! Thanks to this ritual I could finally meet @vesselsscarlet and @thevenomousseprent in person!!!!!!!!! I love you guys, you are amazing and I can't wait to see you again 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 You've made me feel so loved that weekend and it's something I haven't felt in a while!!

[ladyantiheroine]

I’m Not That Boy

Hands touch, eyes meet Sudden silence, sudden heat Suddenly so soft and coy She could be that girl But I'm not that boy

Don't dream too far Don't lose sight of who you are Don't remember that rush of joy She could be that girl I'm not that boy

Every so often we long to steal To the land of what-might-have-been But that doesn't soften the ache we feel When reality sets back in

Bright smile, smooth purrHe who’s thoughtless won’t win her Sharp brains and everything to lose That's the boy she’d choose Heaven always knew I'm not that boy

Don't wish, don't start Wishing only wounds the heart Just keep dancing like a shiny toy There's a girl I know I love her so

I'm not that boy

[starry-bi-sky]

Part six of "Clone Danny"

When the Waynes leave, Danny can finally relax. Even if he's once again hit with a lingering regret that worms itself into his core like a little parasite. The final night that they're there, Bruce Wayne is not downstairs waiting for him, much to Danny's faint, lingering disappointment. He kinda liked talking to him, even if he kept it brief. Probably for the best.

Damian was still there when he returned with a sprained ankle and more ectoplasm burns. Danny tries not to make his limp obvious when he enters, and his clothing smells faintly of sulfur and burnt fabric.

Damian tells him he stinks, and Danny tells him he ran into a ghost. "The Phantom took care of it." He says, gripping his mask in his pocket tightly and avoiding putting weight on his injured foot. His thermos is pressed next to it. His fingers are freezing.

"Ah yes, your vigilante." Damian replies, "The one with the bat." And Danny can see the outline of his eyes narrowing at him.

"Can we really call him a vigilante when the people he's fighting are ghosts?" Danny asks, avoiding the 'bat' comment and leaning against the back of the kitchen chair.

"Did you actually lose your bat, Fenton?" Damian's fingers tap against his arm, refusing to move on. "Despite your ridiculous behavior and attempts to avoid my father and I, I find it hard to believe that the son of two ghost hunters would be as foolish as to forget his only weapon of defense against ghosts."

Ah, so he noticed that. Danny was half tempted to mutter that the bat wasn't his only weapon of defense. He still had his beloved jawbreakers. He's quiet, wondering how to respond to implication that he might be Phantom -- he can't believe Damian picked that up in only a few short days when nobody has caught on in little over a year -- before shrugging.

"I may have given it to the Phantom instead." He says, propping his arm up to put his chin in his hand, trying to look innocent while his heart skipped an anxious beat.

It's probably not the answer Damian wants, but when his word is the only proof he has, Danny doesn't think he should be too worried about it. Even if it meant that a second person outside his friend and enemy circle knew his identity.

He excuses himself shortly after, leaning heavily against the railing to try and hop up the stairs.

(Much to his surprise, Damian follows and lets Danny put his weight on him. He complains that its because Danny will wake his father if he allows him to bumble up the stairs on one foot.)

(Danny ruffles his hair again when they reach the top, and limps towards his bedroom.)

===

Its three months and a handful of new injuries before Danny thinks about the Waynes again. A new ghost appeared in town who called itself Riftgate and he was capable of creating teleport portals to anywhere in the world.

He was a fucking pain in the ass to fight, costing Danny three hours of his night where he could have been sleeping and nearly his hand. Danny gets dragged through the other side before finally shoving Rift inside the thermos.

But he also ends up nearly 900 miles away in fucking Gotham of all places on the top of an empty roof. Great, juuuust great. Danny is tired, he is grumpy, and he is in a city so laden with ectoplasm that he can all but taste it on his tongue. Or maybe that was just the air quality.

He can't even see the stars here, and his mood worsens.

Well, he's too fucking tired to bother handling this right now. There's no way Sam or Tucker are able to help him considering their distance, and right now Danny just wants to sleep. Maybe after that he can figure out a way home.

So he does, sort of. He walks over to the door and doesn't bother trying to open it, even if there was a 50/50 chance of it being unlocked. (This was Gotham after all.) Instead he sweeps the ground with his foot and curls up at door and he's out like a light.

....Only to be woken up by hissed muttering close to his ear and a gloved hand pressing into the pulse of his neck. "No I don't know if they're dead but I don't think so." Says the unfamiliar voice, and Danny opens a bleary eye.

"He's breathing, but his pulse is too slow to be normal. I think he needs help." The voice, a boy, -- no, Red Robin, great -- continues, and Danny looks beside him to see who he was talking to. No one. "He's probably part of some kind of gang, his mask kind of reminds me of Hood's."

Danny just barely remembers that he's still dressed up as Phantom before he tiredly signs, "I'm not part of a fucking gang." and pushes the boy's hand off.

=====

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 (Dani interlude) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.5 (Dan Interlude) Part 8

will make a masterpost soon

Taglist: @the-navistar-carol @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @gin2212 @youracearocroatneighbour @luckybyrdrobyn @deeplyconfusedbear @epilepticnerd @beautifulmomenttodrawblank

[dirtytransmasc]

Modern Aocorro high school au: what if Spider was a harpist in his high school orchestra and Ao'nung was down bad about it.

Spider was already your classic high school heart throb. He was popular, buff, handsome, a little rough around the edges, yet still a total sweetheart.

For Eywa's sake, he carpooled his siblings to school or rode his skateboard to school, volunteered around town 24/7, used reusable straws, he'd hand his pocket change to anyone in need, and was known for getting into fights with bullies in the parking lot.

Not to mention that he had the prettiest golden curls and brown eyes anyone had ever seen (at least in Ao'nung's opinion).

So to say Ao'nung was crushing, hard, was probably the understatement of the century, and could you even blame him? The guy was perfect, an angel, and it was driving him insane.

He'd catch himself staring during gym practice, marveling at his muscles, cheeks flushing, or in the locker room when he took his shirt off to change, his heart pounding away in his chest.

he thought he couldn't be even more down bad for that boy than he already was, his confident personality rendered null and void when he was around, his tongue caught in the back of his throat, unable to do so much as squeak at him… until the day he caught him in the orchestra room, practicing.

Now, he had heard Spider was in orchestra and had even seen him rolling around some large black case around the school before, but he'd never actually caught what he played.

But walking past that half-opened door was how he found out the love of his life wasn't only a sweet handsome hunk of a guy, but he played the harp, the instrument of an angel.

The sheer audacity of this boy was getting out of hand, he swore to Eywa, he was gonna kill him one of these days with his impossibly hot antics.

He stands and watches as Spider presses up against his harp, eyes focused on his sheet music, hair tied up in a messy bun but a single golden curl hangs he keeps blowing out of his face, and his fingers strum along the strings, working the muscles throughout his hands and arms.

The sound of gentle music flowed from the gap in the door, and it sounded just as pretty as Spider looked, soft and sweet, but still robust, still full of base and bravado. It was so fitting.

Watching Spider's face quirk with focus and frustration and pride as he worked through the song made the other's heart swoon, he swore it must be palpating or maybe skipping beats. He just knows it wasn't beating right, especially as he rubs his hand over his chest and feels how heavy it beats against his ribs.

And thats when Spider just so happens to turn to see who was gawking at him from the hallway, and instead of telling him to stop staring or throwing a pissed-off glance like Ao'nung is sure most other's would do if they caught someone staring like he had been, Spider just smiled.

"Like what you hear?" he quipped, leaning forward to turn the page of his music binder.

"Y-Yeah, yeah, you're... amazing," he choked out an answer, coughing into his fist to try and cover up the stammer in his voice and the blush on his cheeks.

"You flatter me," he replied, sitting back and looking Ao'nung right in the eye before he looked away with an even brighter smile, and it was like his skin was set on fire by just that single glance. "Are you gonna come in or are you gonna keep standing out their like some weirdo?"

"Oh, I-I wouldn't want to bother, I was j-just passing by,"

"It's free period, it's why I'm in here all by my lonesome," he puts on a fake pout and bats his lashes in his direction for show, "keep my company yeah? I'm sure you've got nothing to do if you've already spent so much time staring."

He moved his bag off the chair next to him before patting it.

"Sit," his tone was warm and inviting and his eyes were soft and almost pleading, so he did, with a deep breath, he sat next to the other boy.

He managed to be even prettier up close, and Ao'nung had to tear his eyes away so he didn't make a fool of himself. He decided to turn his attention to the harp. It was beautiful, made of a soft, warm-toned wood, intricately carved and painted with the image of flowers he couldn't name off the top of his head.

"She's a beauty isn't she?" Spider asked

he only nodded at first, before feeling the urge to touch, his hand moving before he could think better of it, but he managed to stop himself before he made contact with he wood.

"Can I?" he asked, quite pitifully, finally making his own eye contact with the blonde. Eywa save him, he was too pretty, it was unfair. He felt butterflies tickling his stomach and his head getting fuzzy. Why didn't he run when he had the chance?

"Go ahead," he answered with a huff of laughter.

He tried to steady himself as he stroked a hand down the curved wood that he saw resting against Spider's chest earlier when he was playing, feeling the warmth from the other boy's skin still clinging to the wood.

His fingers sought out the strings Spider's rested on moments ago, the metal threading bit into his flesh ever so slightly when he ran his fingers down them.

"I catch you staring all the time y'know, you're not very good at hiding it."

Ao'nung feels his heart drop through the floor and into the stone-cold basement beneath them. Fuck. He fucked up, he fucked up so bad, Spider must think he's a freak-

"It's cute."

"What?" he didn't mean to ask that out loud, but when he did, he said it far too loud.

Spider just laughs at him, gently and without malice, his eyes crinkling into almost nothing, his cheeks going a little red, his nose scrunching a little. Ao'nung feels his heart swell.

"Oh, it's never subtle, especially since you turn bright red, and the second you realize I'm looking back, you turn tail and run away like you have the devil on your heels," he pauses to wipe the tears from his eyes, "It's just cute, adorable even. I kinda like having a not so secret admirer."

"You don't think I'm some total freak?"

"Nah dude.... who's to say I'm not staring back?" he said nonchalantly.

Ao'nung was sure his brain was melting, cause he just found out his crush might like him back? Potentially. And that was just simply mind-boggling, cause, he wasn't gonna sell himself short, but he never thought he could be on Spider's radar.

They hung out with different people, and he used to be an ass to his siblings before he transferred to be here, and sure he apologized and made up with them, he always seemed to hold a bit of a grudge.

"You are?" he had to ask.

"Mmmmmm, maybe a little," he replied with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. "I will admit, at first it was because I was trying to make sure you weren't being an ass, but, things might be changing."

Ao'nung nodded to himself, clearing his throat, trying to decipher what that could even mean. Was Spider saying he was starting to like him too? did he have a shot with him?

"Listen, the bells about to ring, so why don't I give you this," he pulled a pen from the spine of his binder, tearing the corner off of one of his sheet music, which felt oddly intimate, and wrote something down on it, before handing it to him.

It was his number. Spider just gave him his number.

"Text me? we can start gettign to actually know each other, and maybe you could start joining me in here during free period, I could give you some lessons on the harp if you'd like?" now Spider sounded a little sheepish.

Which somehow made Ao'nung feel a bit more confident, so for the first time in seemingly forever, he answered Spider with some level of confidence.

"Yeah, I'd like that, I'd like that a lot."

"Good, good, I'd like that too."

They were both smiling now. The bell rang. They both hesitated to break eye contact.

"I'll text you, promise." Eywa, he was making promises. Already. He really was a hopeless sap. But it felt right when Spider huffed a laugh at it, a hand coming up to cover his smile a little. He was flattered.

"You better, stalker," Spider laughed, finally starting to pack up his stuff.

"Rude," he faked a gasped, lingering in the door, knowing he had to get to class, and he needed to let Spider pack up so he wouldn't be late himself, but wanting to let the moment last just a little longer.

"I think staring is rude, but I think I'll give you a pass, so long as you stop running away when I catch you, deal?"

"Deal."

"And you have to meet me here tomorrow."

"I will, it's a date," the words slipped out of his mouth without thinking about how it could be interpreted, "oh, not like-"

"It's a date" Spider repeated.

Ao'nung found he could only nod. It's a date. Even if it wasn't like that, it was still nice to think about. a date with an angel.

"Now go, before you're late, wouldn't want you to get in any trouble." Spider crossed his arms and jutted out his hip like he was some disappointed mom or something.

"Right, bye Spider."

He waved goodbye. It was corny and childish, but he waved. Spider waved back. He had his number clutched tightly in his other palm. Spider had his phone clutched in his hands as if he couldn't wait for the message to come any longer.

"Bye Stalker."

He has a feeling he's gonna have to get used to that nickname, but as he rounds the corner, his chest still feeling warm and full of butterflies, he doesn't think he minds all that much.

[everytimewetouch-dot-mp3]

me: okay i’m gonna sit down to work on my omegaverse fic bc i can’t stop thinking about it

me: buys a book about writing fiction

(a few days later)

me: okay i’m gonna sit down to work on my omegaverse fic bc i can’t stop thinking about it

me: buys a book about writing fiction

…i have like 5 new books about writing fiction and no progress made on my fic. pls. it’s just fanfiction it’s okay if it’s bad

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

like fine wine (zeke jaeger x reader)

tags: fem!reader (afab, she/her), age gap (reader is in 20s, zeke in mid to late 30s), established relationship a/n: a little present for my friend @cafedanslanuit with her loser boyfriend who is doing something big this weekend and i'm really happy for her. love you bestie, good job you deserve everything you want in life and more!

“Not gonna lie,” you hold your wine glass closer to your lips to hide your smile from the room. Your eyes skirt from your boyfriend to a shorter man across the room. If looks could kill, you’re sure Zeke would have been killed a thousand times over when they first made eye contact with each other. “I would love to see what your interactions would look like if there weren’t any social obligations getting in the way.”

“It would be the ugliest bare knuckle fight,” Zeke chuckles in your ear and you suppress a shudder. “I hope that the prettiest in the room would bet on victory being in my favor.” Blue eyes look over your black dress and heels with thinly veiled lust and you feel a surge of satisfaction of how you dressed yourself for the occasion. It isn’t your first time being at one of these parties. You’ve been to some for your own companyー mandatory holiday parties to build ‘comradery’ and such. 

This is the first time you’ve been to one so fancy, however. Still, your just-over-knee-length black dress number has once again proven to be your most trusted ally for such events. 

Never doubt classic magic.

Your grin shifts into something more mischievous, “I don’t know,” you purr. “The shorter they are, the more aggressive they fight.”

Zeke takes your jest in stride, “I don’t think he could even reach my neck.” You can’t stop yourself from giggling.

Before you can reply with a zinger of your own, a voice pleasantly booming and jovial stops you. “Oh Zeke Jaeger, as I live and breathe,” a blond man calls, holding a glass of champagne. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”

Zeke returns the smile in full, “It’s nice seeing you, Willy Tybur,” a large hand presses on the small of your back as Zeke leads you both to the man. “[First], this is Willy Tybur, an old friend of mine from university.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Tybur,” you hold your hand out gracefully. You vaguely remember the name from the stories Zeke told you about his university days.

“Please, call me, Willy,” the blond man shakes your hand warmly. “It’s nice to see you finally settling down, Zeke. [First], if you ever want any stories about this guy back in our school days, just say the word. I have plenty.”

Your eyes widen in excitement, “I’d be happy to hear some now if you have any off the top of your head.”

“I’m sure you’d find those old stories boring,” Zeke tries to intervene.

“On the contrary,” your [color] eyes shine under the light of the chandelier. “I think I’ll find them plenty entertaining.”

The universe is on Zeke’s side, however, when Willy is serendipitously called over by a couple. You’ll get those stories somehow. I don’t know when, but somehow.

“Saved by bell, huh, Zeke,” you aren’t giggling but the urge is clearly there. You welcome your man’s look of exasperated amusement. “You know if Willy doesn’t tell me, I still have Eren to run to, right?” His younger brother has already given you plenty of fodder on the down low. “Unless you wanna save me all the effort and just divulge all your secrets yourself?”

You love the smirk on his face and you welcome the subtle caress down your sides. “You’re really trying to rile me up this evening, aren’t you?” 

“Is it that obvious?” You ask coyly. “When does it become socially acceptable for the two of us to leave for the evening again?”

“30 minutes,” comes Zeke’s well-calculated answer.

“Think you can last?” 

“Can you?” Zeke replies with a suggestive curl of his lips.

Oh, how the games are on.

[fence-time]

Does catpulse chatter at birds? If so, i can see him chattering at Grian and weirding him out XD

Yes :3 yes he does, and yes grian is Infact weirded out ^^

[monbons]

Writers Tag Game

Thanks for the tags @roomwithanopenfire, @drowninginships, and @run-for-chamo-miles! All of your fics are amazing and your lists are spot-on!

I started making my list which originally went something like:

Angst-ing poetically

Dramatic pining

Vamps

but then realized they were just all synonyms for Baz if I kept that up, which, yeah, fitting.

So, I decided to actually dig in and get serious. Here is where I think I land:

Really thoughtful story structures that mirror the characters' changes or the themes I am trying to develop. (Think beyond just how many POVS or will it be chronological.) I do this in EVERY fic, serious and silly. Most people don't notice or comment on it, but when someone DOES notice, it brings me so much joy.

Angst. (Baz is almost always a vampire and almost always a mess. It can't be helped.)

"Adorableness." I have tried so hard to get away from this word as a descriptor for my more serious fics, but apparently even when I write smut or lock a character up inside their home for ten years, it is heartwarming. Go figure.

According to my favorite fic comment ever, "prose that makes poets weep." But seriously, I have a background in slam poetry, so I love turning language around in my mind and savoring it like a dessert.

The sweetest Simons.

Tagging @thewholelemon, @mooncello, @theimpossibledemon, @orange-peony, @youarenevertooold and anyone else who'd like to join.

[ultra-violetra]

one of the things I would love to make is a writer's bootcamp / critique circle where people get grouped together based on things like genre, age category, writing stage (i.e. outlining, 1st draft, editing) where you submit something weekly to show your progress and get critique or even just positivity from your group. and there would be deadlines to encourage accountability and getting. stuff. done.

is there interest in this? would anyone want to help me make something like it? i don't think I could do it on my own

edit: if you'd like to join, click here

[catamaurrr-star]

sorry

[asterlavellan]

I still have so much DA (WIPs) stuff to share But, the horrors.

[strawbubbysugar]

Bethroned Chapter 65

[jeonstudios]

hii! i hope you’re doing okay!! i had a question, if you don’t feel comfortable with answering that’s completely okay!!

it’s actually because of you that i would like to like to start writing!! but whenever i write an outline and begin to start writing it’s like my mind blanks?? i have bullet points of what i want included in my fic but it’s like i get overwhelmed and don’t know how to start 😭

do you have any tips for beginner writers? thank you so much for any advice and your time ❤️

hello!! of course, no problem! 🥹🥹🥹🥹 i have a tag (#tips) where i've answered a few writing questions (but they're like... really old atp...) but i don't think i've answered this specific question. i'm not sure exactly where you're stuck but my strategies that work for me are:

1. only writing what i have to

okay so i'm lazy and i don't want to write scenes that maybe might actually make the story better in some way but aren't fun to write lol. so i don't. wham, bam, action = more fun for me = easier to write. so maybe consider downscaling your fic if you think it's too "much" or if it's complicated. the sky is the limit of course, but i know that personally, i wouldn't have been able to write dc when i first started out because it's more complicated. the fics that are easiest for me to write are one shots with a few characters, one pov and one "timeline" where scenes just naturally follow each other. 2. break it down further when i know what my fic or scene in the fic is going to be, i also put it into bullet points. at first, i go general as i plan entire scenes or chapters and then i go into each scene and expand it by more bullet points. i basically write as much detail as i can but i don't care about it looking pretty, just getting words down. that makes the biggest difference, i think, and i can later on go back and write it in "real" prose. for me, a lot of those bullet points are dialogue because that comes easiest to me and moves the story forward the most this is an example from dc, showing how i go from vague bullet points to more detailed ones (often just consisting of dialogue) to more fleshed out.

i don't know how helpful this was or if it was even what you were wondering, but i hope it helps some! the biggest tip is definitely to just get words down, it doesn't have to be pretty but it makes the steps smaller and less overwhelming. <3

[timeskip]

[OC writing, 1428 words]

The God of Memory's name is Paige this year. A few years ago it was Lynx, and before that it was Compass, and before that it was Alice, and before that it was something else. The cycle never stops.

Xiaotan realizes this as Paige's caretaker, and keeps his hand on Paige's shoulders, waiting for the doors to open.

The room is small, a bit claustrophobic. Every time Xiaotan comes here it's another tragedy, a ceremony of memory that should never happen. The desk is cluttered with papers that haven't been read in decades, and Xiaotan already lit candles, because Paige prefers them lit rather than unlit, fascinated by watching the flames as if they were a human child. They slouch beneath his hands, watching the flames flicker.

The door opens, and two figures stand there. The taller one--Araceli, with her long, curling hair tied up, holds the door open for Ry.

Xiaotan stands straight behind Paige's chair, its heart beginning to beat faster. If there's anything it's realized about itself since being born, it's that Ry is different from the other gods. No matter what it tries, it always watches Ry, whenever he's around. Xiaotan doesn't see him often, but this fascination is ever-present. It's hardly love--more like interest, bordering on obsession simply because Xiaotan lives through obsessions--but its heart still soars all the same to know that Ry is coming here, into its domain, even though it's to see Paige and not Xiaotan.

Ry is dressed differently than Xiaotan has ever seen them. Their outfit is a sleek grey, short sleeves and black pants. On their chest is a pin with the letter R.

If what Xiaotan heard is correct, Ry was dressed by the Godhunters, who sought to control them. Any thought they've had for the past week has been filtered through what the Godhunters wished to erase from them, and every time the Godhunters play with god's memories they get sent to Paige to reset themselves, to regain a bit of themselves. Araceli was the same, once, though a different God of Past than Xiaotan and a different God of Memory than Paige was there to assist her--when Xiaotan glances at her, he sees no recognition on her face, only grim determination.

"Hello," Ry says. There's no recognition with them, either. They don't know Xiaotan at all.

"Welcome," Xiaotan says, forcing his gaze to not waver. Paige still hasn't looked up, and they're so young that Xiaotan will have to explain it. "I'm the God of Past, Xiaotan. This is the God of Memory, Paige. They're able to give you back your memories, if that's what you want." Again, his eyes flicker to Araceli as she closes the doors.

"I do want it," Ry says, their head dipping in a shallow nod. "If it's possible, I'd like to get as much back as I can. Especially the past few years."

"It's probably not possible to get it all back," Xiaotan confesses. "But we can try. I... don't know how much the Godhunters can counter Paige's abilities right now."

"Oh," Ry says, quietly.

"It'll be okay," Araceli jumps in. "Don't worry. Not everything can be lost--memories don't work like that."

But this, of course, is overly optimistic. From working with Paige, Xiaotan knows the truth--how memories fragment, how the entire world can be filtered through lenses that will never be the same after a memory is restored or forgotten. Guilt is heavy--without being able to save Ry how he wants to be saved, Xiaotan will only ever be able to apologize for not knowing the past well enough. Even if Xiaotan can fill in some of the gaps, it's not the same as remembering it.

"You just need to hold Paige's hand." He squeezes Paige's shoulders. "It might take a few minutes. It won't hurt, but it might be overwhelming." He tries to look sympathetic, but Ry isn't looking at him, no matter how much Xiaotan wants him to.

Paige looks up from the candles. "It takes a long time," they say, a gentle, normal complaint, but stand up. They finally look the part of a god, and so Xiaotan lets them go the way it always does, when Paige's turn has come. They're a good god, even if they're just a child.

When Paige holds out their hand to the taller god, Ry takes it with trepidation. It's a slow movement, but as soon as their palms brush against each other a light erupts from between them, and Ry freezes with wide golden eyes.

Xiaotan has watched this before, but it's different if it's Ry. It's different when it's something Xiaotan wants Ry to remember--it just wants Ry to remember it, the God of Past who isn't close enough to them to be considered a friend. But it also knows that this is selfish, a wish that should never be granted. Of all the memories Ry will get returned to them, the ones that matter should be the ones brought back to them. It should be about Araceli, or the other gods around them, and never someone holding as minor a role as Xiaotan.

It makes the whole thing feel melancholy.

As the light fades, Xiaotan forces itself to relax, its body stiff with fear that isn't allowed to exist. Its role is to help Araceli determine how much Ry has remembered, if the past has found its way back to Ry--and Xiaotan will be forced to take this role with a heavy heart.

"Do you remember?" Paige asks, looking up at Ry.

"I--I remember," Ry says, and glances back at Araceli, their gaze sweeping past Xiaotan and back to their friend, or whatever Araceli means to them. "But I don't remember... Olive. I don't--" Their breath stutters, and their face crumples. There's a terrible, crackling silence, and Xiaotan tries to think if there's any gods named Olive, but comes up with no answers.

"Who is Olive?" Xiaotan asks, eyebrows furrowing against his will.

Paige looks at him with wide eyes, as if they don't know why he'd ask. They have a habit of absorbing memories too easily, after all. "Ry's friend. She saved him when his memory was taken."

"I was asking Ry," Xiaotan says gently.

"They're right," Ry says, sounding distant, as if he isn't even standing here in front of them. "I don't remember how I met her. I don't know why. I wanted to know, and I wanted to remember why I wanted to help her leave the Godhunters, but I don't--I don't." He covers his face with his hands.

Xiaotan steps forward, hurriedly pulls a chair over to let Ry sit down. "I'm sorry," he says quietly.

"Don't be," Ry says, but it sounds so strained that Xiaotan thinks he must be mad, must be fighting back tears. Whoever this Olive human is, she must be more important to him now than anyone else. It settles as yet another fact about Ry within Xiaotan's mind.

And then Xiaotan backs up for Araceli to sweep in.

Ry remembers her; the woman who takes care of him, who loves him, who is his friend and his mentor. She crouches by his chair and doesn't talk about what happened between her and the Godhunters, but it seems they don't need to say it at all. Ry already knows. He remembers it, after all. Maybe not all of it, but Araceli goes through bit by bit and tries to figure out what he knows.

Xiaotan isn't part of this. He's from a different tapestry, despite having collected information about the other gods since he was created.

When Ry leaves, they look back to Xiaotan to thank him. It falls dully on Xiaotan's ears, though he smiles all the same. "You probably won't remember anyone you didn't spend a lot of time with," Xiaotan says. He hesitates. "Good luck with Olive."

"Oh," Ry says, still looking out of it. Distant, like so many other gods before them that forgot things and then got them all flooded back into their mind. "Thanks. I'll have to go back to Earth to see her, though, so it might take a while. I still... wish I remembered. I don't know how I'll tell her."

"She'll understand," Xiaotan says. "Humans usually do."

Ry smiles, then--with sharp teeth, beautifully, and Xiaotan wonders how he can become part of Ry's life when so much about him has been shifted by a lack of memory. It isn't his place, but he smiles back as if they're friends. As if they will be friends.

[seagull-scribbles]

Was inspired by @lilivae to draw a little Hazbin scene….and used it as an excuse to draw Travis again ♥️

[joculatrixster]

every time a fic writer makes scott the admin or owner of empires smp an angel dies. why r u writing an empires fanfic if u dont care enough to respect the person who actually made the server? :/