#just a good way to sort of start my real adult life and all

[wandixx]

Ok it closes out on me when I tried typing it the first time-

Anyway, I'm a sucker for shock value ones, just so funny to me, so how about M'gann being nervous about introducing bf danny and it happens at an inconvenient time! Could go ghost royalty, ancient of space or anything, hell ghost as dragons would be pretty funny, up to you though!

I'm not sure if I did a good job at this, but I didn't want you to wait too long and real life is keepimg me busier than expected, so for now, it's here. I may continue it one day (I also have different version of fill for this prompt, because neither idea felt right, so if you'd like to see I too, just let me know whatever way is most convenient to you)

This wasn't supposed to happen like that. M'gann didn't have a super detailed plan on how it was supposed to happen, but even her vague (thought and rethought every night) ideas were anything but this. It was supposed to be a calm, low-stakes situation. Maybe even make it look like an accidental meeting, Team in civies hanging out around Happy Harbour, bumping into Danny and then she'd just introduced him, perhaps adding ‘btw, he is my boyfriend’ almost like an afterthought. This seemed like the best possible scenario.

This was also, as expected with the way hero life is, the exact opposite of what actually happened.

Of course, it didn’t start with anything heralding the absolute disaster this day had to become. Kinda accidentally the Team stumbled upon something between a cave and a basement, and in it a group of people, who decided to perform a summoning of a genie so they could… wish for stuff. They didn’t even look like cultists or villains of any sort, just a group of random adults from seemingly very different backgrounds. M’gann had a really hard time understanding what actually brought them together other than their wishes.

Which was actually pretty useful when it came to fighting them, because nobody really cared about their fellow summoner, just trying to save their own butt. She kinda wished more of their opponents were so incompetent.

Though, she spoke too soon because in the excitement of the fight, somehow all of them didn’t realize that one or two of the summoners… actually managed to finish a summoning. It was honestly a little bit embarrassing.

But, it was too late to dwell on all that, as right above the summoning circle appeared a circle in a worryingly familiar shade of green.

Of course, this one time she didn’t have any equipment from Danny, had to be when the Team encountered a ghost.

Ghost in question was a beautiful woman, with long hair covering one of her eyes, in a blue outfit that was related to one of Earth cultures, but M’gann didn’t know which, and a bunch of bracelets on her wrists. Martian could make a hazard guess on who it was, based on the stories Danny told her.

“We don’t have time for explanations, I think I know who this is, if I’m right for the love of everything that’s dear to you, don’t say the word ‘wish’ out loud” she demanded over the Mindlink.

Before she finished, Artemis took silver tape from somewhere and slapped a piece of it over Wally’s mouth. M’gann understood the sentiment but still… it was a little bit too nuclear option.

Desiree (if it was her) didn’t attack anyone, looking a bit confused, giving Team a moment of reprieve to plan and for Kid Flash to make sure none of the summoners could make whatever wish they wanted either. Also with the use of silver tape. Djinn’s were always tricky.

M'gann used this moment of everyone getting their bearings to curse herself for not bringing any ghost weapons this time. Any other mission, Team or not, she had something on her but today? Today she had nothing.

Excluding the summoning engraved into clips holding her cape but it was kinda last resort. It wouldn't annihilate everything in one mile radius or something but she didn't want to drag Danny there if he was during a test, other ghost fight or something. She knew better than anyone that he didn’t need more distractions.

Conner crashed into a wall right next to her. Artemis seemed to lose her cool when none of her arrows seemed to reach the ghost while Robin was trying to make some counter plans with Kaldur. They couldn't do a thing to Desiree and it was a matter of seconds before she stopped entertaining them and went to the city. It… would end badly, most likely. Danny would prefer to get involved before it got that far. Yeah…

She really wished she didn’t have to call.

“I have an idea, cover for me for a minute or two”

“Bold of you to assume we can stop her from anything”

“I believe in you Wally. Just distract her”

“My water attacks seem to be effective weapon against her”

“That’s aster! What do you plan to do, M'gann?”

“Summon another ghost”

She expertly ignored yelling that followed, taking the golden clip off of her cape. She held fabric in place with absentminded use of telekinesis, while she focused on an engraved pattern. Danny's summoning circle wasn't actually too complicated or intricate but she needed to do it just right. And frankly, she just liked looking at it. Physical proof that her boyfriend would be there if she needed it. Drawn representation of who he is, the deepest and truest parts of his soul written in the language that only Universe itself could fully understand.

And it was beautiful. Absolutely incredible. Much better than Desiree's circle, thank you very much.

M’gann dropped to her knees and grabbed leftover chalk from previous summoning and crouched to quickly draw Danny's seal. She had a lot of practice from all the times she doodled it on a whim just to get something of him with her when she missed him the most. She rarely actually summoned him, again, it was difficult to align their schedules, but she was very familiar with the first step.

And it was really easy from there.

She placed the clip in the middle of the circle, shapeshifted one of her nails to get a bit of blood on the chalk and leaned back.

After a careful, deep breath, she started an incantation, putting as much power in her voice as she could.

“I call upon you guard of Amity Park, I call upon you dearest child of the Ice, I call upon you one favored by the Time, I call upon you vanquisher of the Fear, I call upon you subduer of the King, I call upon you defender and the guide, I call upon Phantom, both worlds beloved child”

Circle erupted in green light, putting a momentary pause to the fight. M’gann was still blinking spots away when a figure flung itself out of the summoning circle, right at the Desiree.

“What the fuck?!”

Only after the first punch was thrown did Danny turn back to her, with his usual, somehow both gallant and bashful smile, that without fault made her knees get a little weaker. She smiled back.

“Hello Starlight” he greeted, sounding almost casual.

“Starlight?”

“Hi Angel. Nice of you to drop by” she answered in the same manner. Wally tried to yell from behind the duck tape.

“Angel?! M'gann, who is he? Who is she?!”

“I will always come if you call” he said without any doubt, suddenly as serious as if he was sharing information that could break or make the world.

It certainly worked like that to her world. She actually melted a little on the inside.

“I know”

“Actually, that's kinda cute. I still have no idea who this is, but you go girl”

“I feel like it's not the right time Artemis”

“Not to interrupt… whatever this is, but the other ghost is escaping” Robin cut in “Also, if you want to make out afterwards, please find the room, Batman and Catwoman are traumatizing enough“

Few people snorted, while Danny blushed green. He darted back at Desiree, clearly to escape the embarrassment. M’gann stood up, totally at ease now, that he was there to take care of it.

“Will you need a hand? I don't have any tech but we have a trick or two up our sleeves!” she asked, projecting her voice so it carried through the cavernous basement without yelling.

“I'm good for now but thanks for asking!”

“M’gann, can you give us anything substantial? Who is this? How do you know him?”

“One question at the time and let's wait until he finishes, okay?“

She cut off Mindlink before anyone agreed or protested.

“Miss Martian!”

“Soup time!”

With a blast of light, Desiree got sucked in and Danny landed in front of them with a proud grin.

“My job here is done”

“It truly is. You're getting faster too”

“And thanks to who is that?”

“You”

Danny sent her both an incredulous and playful glare.

“Of course. I miraculously found a ways to not be a mess and don't crash through every wall on my way and–”

“Well, no but–”

“Let me remind you, you're not alone… also who are you dude? And where did the other lady go?” Wally asked, right after ripping the duct tape off his mouth.

“Oh, well, I'm Phantom, I usually work in Amity Park?” he said a bit unsure, as if calling him a protector was under any question. That just wouldn't do.

“He's a hero from Amity Park”

“Thanks love. It's nice to finally meet you all. M talked a lot about you!”

“Can't say same about you, sorry”

“That's fine. I know M was agonizing over how to introduce me in the best way possible. I'm really happy it's finally over,” he paused for a moment, with his brows furrowed “Did I do good? This first impression thing?”

“You're… far less imposing that I personally expected after hearing Miss Martian summoning you, but–”

“M’gann how could you hide this from us?�� Conner blurted out quietly, and oh, he sounded so utterly crushed. Everyone fell silent, the playful atmosphere gone as if it had evaporated.

“I never intentionally hid it. It wasn't significant enough to mention at the start and when it became important I felt like I couldn't just drop it at you during lunch or something. I always planned to tell you, there was just never the right time nor right words. I never wanted to hide it.”

“Even just me?”

“Especially you”

“You still should've…”

“Yeah, I should. I'm sorry”

“How long ago have you met?”

“Half a year ago,” Danny said before she managed to answer “It's all kinda my fault actually. I was really set on not getting mixed up with more hero business than I had to back then. I didn't want you or Justice League finding out about me. And when I agreed, it was already really late. I'm sure she'd told you all from the get go if I let her, I'm sorry”

“Why wouldn't you want us to know about you?”

“It's… Probably not the conversation we should have right here, over gagged wannabe cultists.”

“Valid. Let's call the cops and get going. You two have much to explain”

“And you're sitting eight feet apart until you do!”

Danny leaned in to kiss her, quick and playful, before he jumped back at the demanded distance.

“Well, this still went better than at your side”

“Absolutely”

*******

Also, here is some lil arts for a longish wait, sorry again, I hope this story is yours to your expectations

[yo9urt]

falls down

[inkskinned]

there are a lot of posts out there that are positive and healthy coping mechanisms for handling the holidays. this is not one of them :)

i think there's like. going to be times in your life you will be stuck in a social situation that you cannot escape from gracefully. i do not know why the internet doesn't believe these times exist. it's not always just that your physical safety is at risk - sometimes it's legit like "i just don't currently have the energy or time to put in the effort of responding to this." sometimes it's a coworker you hate so much. sometimes it's just like, fine, you know? like you know you can handle your aunt when she's cheerily horrible, but if you actually set a boundary around her, it's going to be weeks of fallout with your father.

i don't know why people think the answer is always just "cut them out!" or "don't let them get away with that!" because ... the real world is tricky and complicated. i think kind of a lot of us have an internal "radiation poisoning" meter for certain people. like - i'm talking about the ones who are absolutely giving you gradual ick damage. like, you can handle them, but you'll be exhausted.

and yes. you absolutely should listen to your therapist and the good posts about handling others and set good boundaries and take care of yourself. prioritize peace.

HOWEVER :) ...... since im often in a situation with a Gradual Sense of Ick person i cannot just "cut out" of my life (without losing someone else precious to me) - i have sort of developed the most. maladaptive form of mischief possible. because like, if i'm going to have to listen to this shit again, i like to have a little bit of private fun with it.

now! again, i am physically safe, just mentally drained by this man. you should only do this with people you are not in danger with. which leads me to my suggestions for when your Unfortunate Acquaintance shows up and says oh everyone pay attention to me.

my favorite word is "maybe!" said as brightly and happily as possible. whenever the Horrible Person starts in on a topic you do not want to go further with, particularly if they make a claim that you know to be inaccurate, do not respond to it. you and i have both tried to actually argue with this person, and it hasn't gone well, because this person just wants the drama of an argument. however, "maybe!" gives them literally nothing to go on. it is incredibly disarming. they are used to people having some response. they know they can't prove what they're saying, and maybe! treats them like the child they are. it dismisses them in the politest way possible.

i like to say maybe! and then, in their stunned silence, immediately change the subject. this is because i have adhd and i will have something unrelated to talk about, but if you can't think of topics fast enough, i recommend just pointing to something and saying, "isn't that lovely?" because fuck you let's bring in some positivity.

by the way. that second trick - of pointing to something and stating an opinion about it? - that just works on its own, like, 70% of the time. i picked it up from teaching preschoolers. it's an intentional "redirect". it stops children crying and it also stops grown adults from finishing their explanation on why women belong in kitchens. dual wielding!

keep it silly for yourself. i absolutely do not care if people think i'm fucking stupid (it's more fun if they do) and as a result i will purposefully misunderstand things just to see how long it takes them to realize i've completely removed them from the subject at hand. when they say "women aren't funny" i get to be like. "which women." "all women." "all women in america?" "no in the world." "like the mole people? the people in the world?" "what? no. like, alive." "oh are we not counting the mole people?" "what the fuck are you talking about." "you don't believe in the mole people?"

similarly, i play a personal game called "one up me." my Evil Acquaintance literally knows this game exists (my family & friends caught onto it and now also play it) and it always fucking gets him. i don't know why. you have to be willing to be a little free-spirited on this one, though. the trick is that when they make one of those horrible little bigoted or annoying comments they are always making, you need to go one unit weirder. not more intense, mind you - just more weird. "you don't look good in that dress." "yeah, actually, my other dress was covered in squid ink due to a mishap at the soup store." "you shouldn't wear such revealing clothes." "wait, what? oh shit. sorry, your son tears off strips when no one is looking and eats them. i swear it was longer before we left the building."

the point of "one up me" is to completely upend this person's narrative. we both know this person likes setting up situations where you cannot "win" and then they really like telling other people how badly you handled it. in a usual situation, if you respond "please don't say something that rude", you're a bitch. but if you let it happen, you're letting yourself be debased. they are not usually expecting door number three: unflappably odd. because what are they going to say when they're telling everyone how badly you behaved? "she said my son eats her dresses" ".... okay?"

if you can, form an allyship with someone whomst you can tagteam with. where they can pick up on your weird "soup store" story and run with it.

the following phrase is amazing and can be deployed for any situation: "oh, be nice :) it's the holidays!" i do not know why this works as often as it does. i'll say it for the most random shit. i think this is bc most of the time these people know they're being impolite, they just like to fight.

godbless. when in doubt, remember that you could always start stealing their pens.

the whole point of this is - if you can't escape. maybe see how long you can just be. like. a horrible little menace.

[sans-enjoyer]

Inanimate Insanity Episode 16 Spoilers!!!!

its been like, two days since episode 16, and people are already arguing about Mephone's age. He is a child, and this didnt come out of nowhere guys, he's always BEEN a child:

^post from 2018!! 5 YEARS ago!

^Brian reposting art (amazing art btw<3) where Mephone is described as a CHILD and drawing in a childish way.

^Brian saying that Mephone is so young he doesn't even know how to SPELL.

Now; heres some stuff ive been hearing in argument against him being a child.

"Cobs is infantilizing him." I agree with this to a certain extent, he is acting like Mephone is a child who cant comprehend anything like an abusive parent. but thats where it stops. Children can ALSO be infantlized! But aside from that, Cobs even says; "I forgot how young you are!" Parents don't say that to their adult children, because it makes no sense unless Mephone is a child.

Secondly, why would Brian and Justin be doing the same thing? They say he's young!

"He has an adult voice." Robots don't hit puberty! This means nothing. Unless youre saying that the creators implied hes an adult because hes voiced by an adult, well i'll have to refer you to the images above.

"He hosts an entire show." Arguably not very well, also again, he's a robot, and also, theyre on an island! its not like you need a permit to film on a random island in god knows where. Any child can "host" a show if they have enough determination, general knowledge of how they work, and equipment, and would you know it Mephone has all three! He knows how they work because he watched them in meeple, and he can generate any equipment he needs.

"He's a robot, he doesn't have an age." True..? sort of...? But the thing is, being legally defined as a child is based off your mental capacity. Children arent as mentally/emotionally intelligent as grown adults, because they don't have the life experience nor the capacity to be. Mephone barely has ANY life experience, he grew up in Meeple, and then started the show immediately after leaving. And obviously, in Inanimate Insanity (and all object shows), robots are almost always sentient beings, unlike real life.

"He's much more mature than a child, especially one that couldn't spell." Debatable! First of all, he thinks things like 'going to jail for one day' and 'the calm down corner' are terrible punishments, like children. If you tell a child to go sit on the stairs for 5 minutes and frame it as a punishment, they will take it as serious as anything else. Secondly, he literally decided to make a random species of bat.. things? fight to the death because they ate his four month old ice cream. No mature person would do that... Thirdly, abused children ACT more mature than others because they HAVE to be. Abused children are not ALLOWED to act like children. They have to be mature for themselves because who else is going to be? Who else is going to take care of you when your parent doesn't? But that doesn't mean they arent still a child.

So now we tread into questionable territory. Is it okay to deny the idea that he is a child at all costs, just so you can ship him or sexualize him? There is really no other reason why you would deny that he is a child.

Now obviously; lets not harass anyone who has drawn ship art of him or sexualized him in the past. This stuff was not commonly known, most people thought he was an adult. But if you look deeper, he isn't.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk, if anyone reads this far (￣^￣)ゞI know I usually only post art, but this is an important topic to me as i am very hyperfixated on Mephone4 i swear i can't control it guys!!

Feel free to make any counter points, im open to discussion, but i am also very set on this opinion. Have a good day everyone!!☆

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

When I first saw a Miraculous Ladybug salt post it was the usual Lila takes away all of Marinette's friends Adrien does nothing Marinette becomes super successful Lila gets exposed blah blah blah

When I see posts like the ones you post where people give actual constructive criticism about the characters and not favor one character over the other has made me realize that these are fictional characters and its not their fault they are the way they are. Also they're 14 what kind of 14 year old makes good choice's? Especially when they have the fate of the world/universe on their shoulders

If anything the character I really blame is Master Fu. He was obviously meant to be some sort of mentor figure for them or at least Marinette's mentor. He was the one to tell and encourage Marinette to keep everything a secret from Adrien. Comparing him to other mentor like figures in the world of superheros he isn't really all that helpful.

Compared to DC Ladybug and Chat Noir do not have any adult superheros to help them. In DC younger superheros have entire superhero families to help them out and if not that than they have other adult superheros to help them or they have an actual team. We know that other miraculous holders exist and the order is back I have a vague idea as to why they can't help but I still find it weird as to why they are around if not to help. Like phones and the internet exist do they not?

Sorry for they rant, I want to know what your thoughts are on this?

Your rant was fine! I don't think that I've talked in depth about mentors as a concept and I should both because I love mentors and because Miraculous has completely failed to give us any good ones. This is a writing failure not because good mentors are required, but because the show chose to have mentors characters and then not use them.

Before I get into the topic at large, I want to start with a brief discussion of mentors in shows aimed at young children as Miraculous' intended audience is young children and that fact is worth keeping in mind when discussing what Miraculous did wrong and some of the ways that you can fix it.

Shows aimed at kids generally avoid adult characters in major roles for the very obvious reason that the intended audience is kids, so you want the kid and teen characters to be the stars. This doesn't mean that adults aren't allowed to save the day or have important roles. It just means that they should be used sparingly. This is why mentors are a great addition to kids shows. They allow adult characters to be deeply involved with the plot without anyone expecting them to intervene because that's not their role in the story. They're not here to be the hero. They're here to guide the hero.

One of the powerful things about this setup is that it allows the writers to give the real kids watching at home real advice about real life problems. For example, if Marinette comes to Fu to talk about feeling alone and overwhelmed, then he can give her real, practical advice that would apply to anyone who is feeling alone and overwhelmed, but no one expects him to directly intervene because he's supposed to say hidden.

A lot of these elements apply to mentors in media aimed at older audiences, the rules just apply for different reasons, so I'm going to stop reminding you that Miraculous is for elementary school kids and focus on the failed mentor issue as it would be an issue no matter what Miraculous' intended audience was.

When it comes to bad mentoring, a lot of people focus on Fu and I get why. At first glance, he's the classic wise old Asian man who is supposed to be there to guide the protagonist on her mystical journey (not getting into the racism issue here, just know that I'm aware of it and that Miraculous dropped the ball on this in a lot of ways even though they absolutely could have made it work.) But Fu isn't the main focus of my ire because, while the writers seemed to have designed him around the mystic Asian trope, they never actually wrote him like a mentor.

He doesn't train Marinette and Adrien in the ways of the miraculous. He just sneakily gives them their miraculous and then disappears from their lives for quite some time. So he's not around to get them properly started on their hero journey. That's strike one for the mentor role.

Strike two is the fact that we never actually see him mentoring Marinette. I don't think that she ever went to him for advice? If she did, then it wasn't a big element of their relationship. When I think of Marinette and Fu, I picture her going to him to grab a miraculous or two before booking it back to the ongoing fight and that's about it. The guardian training she supposedly had was all off screen, so we have no idea how close they were or what he even taught her outside of potion making. Even that wasn't really him teaching her something. It was them working together to figure out a puzzle because Fu never completed his own training, making it impossible for him to properly train a successor.

Strike three is the fact that - outside of the King Monkey incident - Fu never gets directly involved in helping team miraculous. He's never gives them feedback on fights or works with Ladybug and Chat Noir to strengthen their bond. He doesn't even help them track down the two missing miraculous or hand out the temporary miraculous on Marinette's behalf, a choice I still find super weird. "This fight is super hard and we need help, so I'm going to leave Chat Noir to fight alone while I go get said help!" is absolutely nonsense logic and one of the many examples of the writers desperately needing to let Marinette hand her responsibilities off. Why wasn't this Fu's job?

This brings us to fix one: if you want the guardian to be a mentor - which is a role they arguably should have - then the guardian needs to be actively involved in Marinette and Adrien's lives in an on screen way. For this to work in the context of Miraculous - a show that really wants to focus on the teen characters - then the guardian probably needs a teenage apprentice who isn't Marinette and that apprentice will be the one doing the mentoring.

My pick for this is Luka for two big reasons. The first one is that his calm personality is perfectly suited to a mentor. The second one is that it seems insane to me to have the snake be a temp holder. The snake should be watching every fight, but staying out of the actual fight so that they can use their power whenever it's needed. That's the perfect role for a mentor character to fill. Someone who is active in the plot, but only ever as a support because their power stops them from getting more involved.

Moving on to the bigger issue.

As I said up above, Fu doesn't actually get my ire. While I wanted him to be a mentor, he never once filled that role and he didn't really need to because the show already had mentor figures that it was actively using and using poorly. Those figures are the ancient magical creatures that follow our heroes around, dispensing terrible advice whenever they feel like it. That's right, as much as it pains me, Miraculous' biggest mentor failures are Tikki and Plagg.

The miraculous did not need to have magical creatures associated with them. They could have just been magical jewelry that Fu handed out and explained. Instead, the writers chose to give us the Kwamis and I don't disagree with that choice. I like the Kwmais! The problem is that they're used in the most lackluster, asinine ways you possibly could.

The Kwamis are not presented as oblivious to the world and unable to give advice. They give lots of advice! The problem is that advice tends to suck! I can think of many examples of times where the Kwamis made everything worse, but let's look at the one that grinds my gears the most: Plagg's actions in season four.

In Rocketear - the episode where Nino gives Adrien an incredibly inaccurate picture of why he knows Alya's secret identity - we get this:

Adrien: I still can't believe Ladybug entrusted Alya and Nino with those Miraculous. Plagg: Of course she did. She's the Guardian. Adrien: But they're a couple and they know each other's secret identities. Plagg: So...? Adrien: So, why does she make it a rule that we can't know each other's identities but it's okay for them? Plagg: She's the Guardian, the Grandmaster Cheese Ripener, and you and I are just cheese on the platter. She decides what's on the menu.

Hey, Plagg, maybe don't tell your clearly upset and vulnerable teenage holder to just suck it up and deal with it when he's feeling alone and betrayed? Maybe encourage him to talk to Ladybug about his feelings so that he can get the full story? Knowing that they learned their identities during the Scarlet Moth incident would probably do a lot to smooth over Adrien's hurt feelings.

What's even more rich is that the episode Kuro Neko lets Plagg go off on Marinette for not appreciating Chat Noir:

Ladybug: What's gotten into him? I didn't do anything. Plagg: Didn't do anything? Well yeah, you did! You've been neglecting a very classy piece of camemebert on your plate for too long! And as a result it got runny, and moldy! Ladybug: What? Cat Noir never gave me any camembert. Plagg: Of course not, Cat Noir is the camembert! For a while now, you've been neglecting this camembert— I mean Cat Noir, and going on adventures with the all other cheeses! Ladybug: But he should be happy about it, it gives him more time off. Plagg: Cat Noir doesn't wanna have time off, Ladybug! He is in love with you! And your persistent calling on all the other heroes has broken his heart.

Dude, if you saw all of this going on, then why didn't you say something??? You and Tikki are in the same location for multiple hours five days a week. Go tell her how your holder is feeling and figure out how to fix the situation! Or be an actual mentor and encourage Adrien to talk to someone about his feelings! At the very least, cut up a wheel of cheese, sit down, and listen to your kid so that he feels less alone!

Also what exactly do you want Ladybug to do to fix the problem you presented? Let Paris burn until Chat Noir decides to show up to today's fight? Refuse to use the temp heroes even if it means losing a fight? None of those are valid solutions when the problem presented in the episode is Chat Noir missing fights. Especially when we know that he's doing it on purpose. Why are you yelling at her instead of working with her to come up with an actual solution? You are such a terrible mentor...

To be clear, I don't think any of this is intentional. I don't think the writers want Plagg and Tikki to come across as actively hurting their teenage charges via bad advice. I think Plagg and Tikki are supposed to be seen as good and helpful, but they can't fill that role because they're tools of the narrative and the narrative has really wacky views on what good advice is. Thus nonsense like the example I discussed above or Plagg and Tikki picking new holders instead of guiding their holders through an identity reveal.

I personally adore letting Plagg and Tikki be good mentors in my own stuff. It falls under the same category as Alya and Nino being terrible friends on screen. I acknowledge the problem and then delight in fixing it by writing the exact opposite setup because what is fanfiction for if not heavy self indulgence?

[syluscore]

I Would Never Let You F**k Me

~Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader~

Word count: 1196

This is my writing for @myrarenee ‘s ask that I have copied below:

This isn’t really a question but I think a Leon Kennedy smut where he hacks his best friends camera system and watches her fuck herself with his names on her lips. And one day she get snippy and says “id never let you fuck me” or something of the sort. He just grips her jaw and says “Sweetheart, I’ve been watching you fuck yourself while moaning my name.” “Why don’t we make it real this time”

!!!!!!!MINORS DNI! GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+!!!!!!!

“But our babies would be so cute. It’s theoretical, you can agree to a stupid deal that probably won’t come to fruition,” Leon teased you. The both of you lazily sat on the couch, watching some shitty rerun on TV that you weren’t really paying attention to. You’d be lying to yourself if you claimed this whole conversation between the two of you didn’t make your heart flutter in your chest. He’s your best friend, the only guarantee in your life. Everything could go to shit and Leon would still show up and show out for you. You’d been crushing on him since the two of you met so many years ago.

He could so easily jokingly flirt with you, because unlike you, he wasn’t repressing feelings in order to preserve your friendship. You’ve fucked up so many things in your lifetime and you refused to let Leon be another one. All you could do was shake your head, “We are full ass adults, Leon. You don’t need some agreement with someone to marry and have kids if you don’t have it figured out in ten years. You’ll find somebody and will breed your spawn, you will be just fine.”

You stared at Leon as he pouted at you. Once this man had his mind set to something, it was impossible to persuade him another way. You sighed before speaking, “You do realize babies don’t magically appear right? Like we’d have to have sex to make one. Me, you, fucking. That thought alone should be enough to get your mind off your ridiculous deal.” He gasped and acted horrified at the mere thought, clutching his chest causing you to laugh hysterically. 

“Are you trying to hurt my feelings? I don’t think I’m that bad in bed, good god. I think we’d figure it out just fine,” he continued to insist on his idea. All you could do was roll your eyes at him. “Hey don’t roll your eyes at me! I haven’t had any complaints from the ladies who have taken a ride on the Leon-” you couldn’t bare to let him finish his sentence.

You snapped, “Just drop it okay? I would never let you fuck me.” Your tone was so much harsher than you intended, but you were desperate to drop this conversation. You didn’t want to go there with him right now. It’d be putting too much at stake and you couldn’t allow anything to ruin your friendship. A hurt look washed over Leon’s face and you felt so guilty. You were getting ready to apologize, to back track, maybe even just agree to his little idea, but then a smirk slowly grew on his face. He can be so confusing at times.

“Liar,” he suddenly proclaimed and you cocked an eyebrow up at him. You were ready to ask him what he meant by that before he continued on, “What do you think about when you touch yourself, hmm? And don’t fucking lie to me.”

You blinked at him, trying to comprehend if he really just said that. “Excuse me-” you started, ready to give him an earful about how inappropriate his behavior was. How none of that is any of his business.

He wasn’t having any of it though. He reached out for you, gripping your jaw tightly, making you stare right into his eyes. “I’ve been watching you, watching how you fuck yourself while moaning out for me. Moaning my name and holding back all those little noises you make. Watching your face as you cum while begging me to fuck you. So yes, you are a liar. How about you be honest with me and tell me exactly what you think about while touching yourself and maybe, just fucking maybe, I’ll give you what you’ve been wanting,” he said in a low, husky voice. Between his firm grip on your jaw and the way he was speaking to you, your traitorous pussy was becoming wet extremely fast.

“How?” you questioned him in an embarrassingly shaky voice. Your throat had run dry, your body slightly trembling as your nerves grew and your anxiousness peaked.

He snickered at you, “Yeah, the government training didn’t teach me anything. Surely, I wouldn’t be able to hack into some pesky little cameras. I gotta be honest sweetheart, the security system you installed is a joke. Someone could so easily access them and watch all the dirty little things you do when you think no one is watching.” With the grip he had on your jaw, he slowly pulled you closer to him until your faces were just inches apart. “Now, you still haven’t answered my question. Cmon, it’s just me, you can tell me,” he told you in a condescending tone.

“I-I,” you struggled to speak between your dry mouth and jumbled thoughts. He gripped your jaw tighter, raising his eyebrows as if he was daring you to test him. “I think about what it’d be like if you tied me up and did whatever you wanted with me,” you tried to turn your head away to avoid his gaze, but his grip on your jaw only got tighter. He gently nodded his head, encouraging you to continue. “I think about you forcing your cock down my throat and telling me how I’m such a good girl for you. About how pretty your cock must be. How you’d spank me if I disobeyed you,” you spoke softly and he hummed in response.

“Sometimes I fantasize about you bending me over and fucking me roughly in front of others. Showing them how well I take your cock. How hard I let you fuck me,” you confessed as you both slowly leaned in closer and closer to each other. “You’d mark me up so everyone knows I belong to you. You’d make sure every step I take for the next week reminds me of you and your cock,” you told him as he closed the gap between your mouths.

His hand slipped from your jaw to your hair as he pulled you impossibly closer. The kiss started slow and sensual, but quickly turned messy and desperate. Leon didn’t leave a single millimeter of your mouth untouched by his tongue.

Without breaking the kiss, he pulled you on top of him to straddle him. You wrapped your arms around his neck as his hands traveled down your sides until they landed on your ass, giving your cheeks a tight squeeze in his big, strong hands. You couldn’t help but whimper beneath his touch.

He pulled away from the kiss, a line of saliva still connecting your mouths together as you both greedily sucked in breaths. Leon reached his hand up, breaking the line of saliva and running his thumb across your bottom lip. He slowly pushed his thumb past your lips and you instantly wrapped your mouth around the digit, sucking it as you stared into his eyes. A moan slipped past his lips at the sight of you like this.

“What do you say sweetheart? Why don’t we make it real this time? You can show me just how much you’d never let me fuck you.”

~masterlist~

[payasita]

Good job getting ADHD medication! I’m so proud of you :D

thanks so so much im very happy and so hopeful for the first time maybe ever but also it TOOK ME LIKE. A YEAR. A YEAR.

like yall for real?? for real. for real i have been diagnosed since i was like six. (funny story my teacher thought i was on the spectrum so my parents get me tested with the nodes and shit and according to mom, who loves this story, my neurologist did all that and talked to me and then just turned to my mom and went "she's not autistic. she just hates the other kids" but they DID find an adhd diagnosis in there so net win for all of us)

diagnosed since i was SIX. on stimulants until i turned 8, and you know why i got off em? my pediatrician retired. we could not find another who would take our low-income insurance. so i just had to rawdog The Rest Of My Fucking Life. diagnosed when i was six. legally neurodivergent for 20 slutty slutty angry years.

and it still took me like. a few months to get a psych appointment. a few weeks to reaffirm my diagnosis as an adult. a few more weeks for another appointment for meds. he doesnt Want to do meds first, because i must have been doing fine without them if its been two decades, right? i got a job and a car and everything. well gee fuckin shittickers Dr. Brain Guy, just WHAT was my alternative? would you prefer i be maladapted to the point of incapacitation; is that what it takes for someone to be considered? i cheated my way through school. every day after work i sit for an hour in my car because i dont have the executive function to stand up and walk the ten steps to my house. garbage just appears around me. i have three empty bags of hot chip and two cans of sprite on my desk as we speak, neither from today. at that point i hadnt had a debit card for six months because that would have required me to Drive To The Bank, a location that was new to me in this area, so i just did everything on credit. is this all normal? is this fine? am i GOOD, actually, Dr. WeirdBrain?

so we cordially agree that yes i should probably be medicated. i want to do a stimulant. he does not want to put me on a stimulant. "stimulants can mess with your heart," he says, "and you're young, you don't want heart problems." i say ok because i dont want to make him think im just looking for narcotics. even though i am. because they WORK. i agree to try some kind of antidepressant.

the antidepressant gives me tachycardia. i go to the emergency room after reading a heartbeat of, oh, 140 bpm, which is about like double what it normally is and juuuust below the You Are Having A Heart Attack threshold. i get to the ER and the doctor there is very obviously convinced i'm a local addict having some sort of episode. it is the most ironic experience i've had all year and i feel an abrupt and all consuming kinship with those birds in australia that will swoop you and peck at your face for seemingly no good reason.

so yeah, we narrow it down to the antidepressant. as it turns out, these particular meds are known to, semi-commonly, Mess With Your Heart. i have my next appointment with my psych and somehow refrain from pecking his eyes out. he puts me on a noreprinephrine inhibitor(iirc) that isnt actually FDA approved to treat ADHD specifically(i DEFINITELY rc) but it IS given to smokers to help them quit. i dont smoke. i may very well fucking start before this whole ordeal is at the point where someone listens to me

it obviously does a combined total of jack and shit, and the man waffles with this one because he has "had success" using it as treatment for other ADHD patients. he ups the dose. twice. three months on the smoker meds, which are also apparently notorious for destroying your appetite, but they didnt even do THAT. no change to the average amount of hot chip on my desk.

he wants to try quelbree after that. i finally tell him i'm tired of this shit and would like to have more than two hours of usable daylight to function before it all falls to uncontrollable youtube shorts binges and a daily experience i like to call The Weighted Nothings and i would very much like to PLEASE. TRY A STIMULANT.

he's been friendly enough with me over these past four or five or whatever months but at this he gets suddenly very very business-baseline. gives me the whole spiel about the north american shortage. gives me a spiel about how i absolutely cannot, under any circumstances, lose or sell this medication, because they will not refill it if i do. i am sitting here wondering if he he's telling the truth about having other ADHD patients at all like ever in his career, and also, am i nuts or should the "don't sell your prescription drugs" bit apply to EVERYTHING? i dont fuckin know man i just live here

he says he wants a urine test first. its scheduled for two weeks out. i take it.

"hey uh, your piss came back with cannabis in it" "well it'd be weirder if it didn't, we are in california and i am a kitchen manager" "you can't have weed if you want adderall" "fine i'll stop" "we'll schedule you another test in a month" "aight bet" it didnt go exactly like that but this is kind of what the vibe between us has devolved into by this point.

anyway i wait a month and get a good grade in piss. i get the meds prescribed. i go to fill out the prescription

all i really need to say to you are the words "prior authorization error" for most of you to get what happened next.

the psych isnt even aware. i wait another month for our next meeting, which was yesterday. i do not yell at him. he tells me to take it up with the pharmacy, and yell at them. i am going to yell at them.

so i go, and guess what, it actually went through a while ago! NO ONE TOLD ME OR DR. FEEL-BAD OVER HERE. but we can't fill it right now because its a controlled substance so come back in a few hours. hey it's ready where the hell are you? TAKE YOUR METH AND GET OUT

anyway i started it today, reorganized my pantry, and fixed the fire alarm in my hallway that's been chirping at me for a week. i no longer have to wear earplugs to bed.

and with my newfound executive function superpowers, i will be spraying my weed-free piss all over Reagan's grave.

[alvie-pines]

So, I just want to say something real quick about Wilbur Soot and the expectation fans have of all his friends to come out and immediately make statements and drop him. I particularly want to talk about Tommy because i see parallels between his relationship with Wilbur and my relationship with an adult who made me feel responsible for his wellbeing. I am not saying that their relationship is like this, just that based on what we've seen it could be, and we should be prepared to be empathetic and understanding to Tommy in case it is like this.

So some background. Starting at 13 or 14, I had a friend in his thirties who made me feel responsible for his mental health. I won't go into great detail, but I was constantly reassuring him and trying to keep him from killing himself, which was something he gave me multiple scares about. He would disappear and not respond to messages for days or weeks after posting suicide notes on his tumblr... but he was fine every time, just stepping away. Still, it scared me every time, and I felt like I hadn't been doing a good enough job helping him be happy.

I was friends with him from 13 to 16 and I felt responsible not just for his happiness, but his life.

It was so difficult to end that friendship that it took him blocking me multiple times before i could accept that he wasn't my responsibility anymore.

I defended him, let him get away with shit, let him have way more power over my life and beliefs and relationships than he should have. Because i was so toxically attached to him and believed what he told me, I seriously hurt my best friend in the whole world and I will never be able to fully express how sorry I am for it.

I'm saying this because there is evidence that Wilbur and Tommy's relationship contains similar dynamics. Wilbur has said that he relies on Tommy for his mental health. They met when Tommy was, what, 15? That's not healthy. Wilbur is an adult. I've also heard that Tommy has had to talk Wilbur down from suicide. This is extremely similar to what I experienced, and as much as it discomforts me to be seriously speculating about two ccs' relationship off-camera, I can't help but see the strong similarities to my story.

And Shelby's story corroborates this kind of behavior from Wilbur. She also was made to feel like Wilbur relied on her. For Shelby it was about his living situation--she felt like he needed her to take care of him, like he was too traumatized or depressed to take care of his own house and affairs, and if she stopped doing it it just wouldn't get done. And because she is a kind person, she didn't want to leave him like that.

This kind of behavior traps the victim in a relationship with the abuser by making them feel guilty if they try to leave or even distance themselves. It makes the victim feel like they cant hurt or go against the abuser in any way, for fear of blood on their hands, literal or metaphorical. It drives you to defend them, to try to stay by their side even as they prove themselves a terrible person.

So if Tommy isn't immediate and decisive in dropping Wilbur, I think we should be understanding. In these sorts of manipulative relationships, its really hard to speak badly of the abuser, and its hard to accept when others say they're abusive. That's an aspect of the abuse.

It took me until I was 13 to even be consciously aware of my mom doing this to me, and I only became aware of that "friend" doing it when I hadn't spoken to him in years.

This is the sort of thing that is VERY difficult to process and navigate and I think we should give Tommy, and other people close to Wilbur, some grace in navigating it. They should still drop him, but I think we should let them take some time because dropping an abuser who acts like this is very difficult, and they make it so on purpose.

[thought--bubble]

Hey, would you write something related to modern Aemond like: Aemond in high school is often excluded and harassed because he comes from a family considered strange and also because everyone has a view that he is strange. The reader is the only one who is kind to him and doesn't ignore him, and this is enough for Aemond to fall in love with the reader, despite never having had a real or very long conversation with her.

Additional: Aemond, despite maintaining a tough attitude, is extremely lacking in affection and is quite sensitive

This Is My First Ask So I Really Hope You Like It! The Characters are not in high school because i only write about adults but they will have originally met there. This got away from me a bit but I had a really good time writing it. I hope you enjoy!

My Salvation

Modern Aemond X (Long Term Crush Reader)

Warnings Under The Cut

Modern Aemond Master List

Full Master List

Banners by @arcielee

Warnings:: Allusions to Bullying, Car sex, Unprotected sex, Pining. IDK i suck at these any suggestions please LMK

"Everything is perfect" You think to yourself as you get yourself ready for your morning shift at the local coffee shop, and as far as you are concerned it really is.

You graduated from Highschool a few months ago and were ready to start your life as an adult. You had gotten yourself a job at the local coffee shop as well as signed up for the Autumn Semester at the Beauty Academy in Manchester.

Makeup for the stars was your dream and with the acceptance to the academy you felt like you were well on your way to achieving that goal.

Your day starts off like any other. You walk into the coffee shop apron in hand and greet your Co-worker Floris. She was a very popular girl back in your high school and dated the local bad boy Cregan Stark on and off for years.

"Good Morning Floris" You smile sweetly at her as you make your way behind the counter.

"Morning" She sighs letting you know the Floris you get to interaact with today is going to be the moody Floris. Internally you sarcastically thank Cregan for breaking up with her yet again and leaving you to deal with her sullen disposition, but you being the ball of sunshine that you are try and bring up the mood with cheerful banter.

"Has it been busy today?" You attempt to make conversation hoping she will bite at the bit so you don't have to suffer through one of those awkward days where she is silent and brooding through almost the entirety of your shared shift.

"No" she answers short and curt. you briefly rub your fingers against your forehead, if you don't figure out how to get her into at least a little bit better of a mood this is going to be a very long annoying shift.

The bell over the door jingles signaling that a customer has entered the shop.

"its back" Floris says annoyed.

"Stop that" You scold as you look toward the door.

There he is, your most common customer. Aemond Targaryen. He has his long blonde hair tied back and his eye patch on. You never understood why he wears that outdated thing. He must think it adds to his mystery persona.

Aemond is a bit of an oddball. Never fit in much in school. He is after all a Targaryen. The fact that he lost an eye in some sort of childhood accident, made him that much more different than everyone else. Which around here, is never a good thing.

"Hey there Aemond, the usual?" you ask him, your typical bubbly demeanor on full display.

"Yes please"" his answers are always so short and void of emotion. never mean or aggressive just short and cold.

You smile at him happily while you prepare his usual black coffee with tons of sugar. How he drinks his coffee like this you will never understand.

You spoke to Aemond sparingly back in school, which although is most than other students, still wasn't much. You wouldn't say you are friends but you do hold a bit of an affinity for him.

He had a tough time. No one could deny that. He was ignored, ostracized. Not that he would ever let anyone know if that fact actually bothered him, you always assumed that it did. At least to some degree.

You hand him the coffee with a big smile on your face. He takes it from you and nods. Making his way to his usual table and pulling out his laptop.

"Why does he stay?" Floris whispers "It's weird"

You shoot her a pointed look. "It is not weird for someone to sit down and work in a coffee shop, actually, it's quite common. Kindness isn't difficult. you should try it"

"You are aware their family tree doesn't have quite enough branches right?" Floris says while chuckling.

"A lot of royal families have that .... kind of history, they are descendants of royalty. Its been like what? 100 generations or something? Don't you think it's time for a new plot point?"

Floris sighs "He's just .... weird"

You roll your eyes and can't help but glance over at the mysterious man. Watching him type away on his laptop and staring at his side profile. If he wasn't the silent brooding type or a Targaryen the girls at school probably would have been all over him. He is obviously handsome with a jaw line that could cut diamonds. Its that icy chill around him and that albatross of a last name that had him shunned.

As your shift continues you occasionally glance over at him. His coffee long gone but still he stays typing away as other customers come and go.

"What do you think he's working on?" you wonder out loud

"Some version of the Targaryen anarchists cookbook i'm sure..... "

You sigh and roll your eyes again. Why could no one seem to look at the man himself instead of his family? Instead of the eye patch? It seemed so cruel.

"Do you mind if I head out 20 minutes early? Cregan wants to talk" she starts putting her jacket on before you even respond.

"Yeah that's fine, Sara and Jace should be here any minute anyway."

You watch as she quickly gathers her things running out of the shop. You tap your fingers on the counter. The shop is now empty save for Aemond typing away on his laptop.

"Hey Aemond?" You practically yell across the shop. He looks up at you furrowing his brows but doesn't say anything.

"You want a muffin or something?" you offer holding up a double chocolate muffin and wiggling it back an forth.

He simply shakes his head returning his focus back to the laptop in front of him. you sigh as you come to the conclusion that it is going to be a long and boring 20 minutes before second shift shows up.

Probably five minutes before Sara and Jace are due to arrive the downpour starts.

"oh well isn't that grand" you mumble to yourself.

You have been trying to save up for a car. Your parents couldn't afford to buy you one at the present time, and with the wages earned at the coffee shop it would most likely take the entire summer for you to save up enough so you walked to and from work. This typically wasn't a big deal since you lived close by but torrential rain always made the experience a lot less pleasant.

Jace comes running in soaked to the bone.

"Please tell me you just ran a mile and not just 5 seconds from the car park?" the grimace on your face outwardly showing how you are feeling

"Nah this is the 2 second walk from the car park it's serious out there right now!" he laughs while he shakes his hair off.

He comes around the back of the counter.

"He's here again huh? I could ask him to stop?" Jace whispers

"No, he's fine, he has a coffee works on whatever and then he goes."

"He always comes at the beginning of your shift and leaves at the end of it. You don't think that is a little weird?"

"Isn't he like your cousin or something? I would think that you would be nicer" you take off your apron and hold it in your hands.

"uncle, and we're not close" Jace heads to the backroom trying to dry himself off. "When sara gets here, I'm sure she won't mind running the store alone a few minutes so's I can drop you off"

"No, I'm ok. Just a little rain, Heard rainwater is good for your hair" You chuckle to yourself. "Bye Jace"

Jace waves as you head out the door of the shop and the second you get outside you can't believe how hard it is raining.

"Let me take you." Aemonds cool voice comes from behind you.

"Oh!" you jump and turn around his face, still as stone looking at you awaiting your answer.

"Thanks, that would be very kind" You decide to accept his offer. Firstly, it is downpouring and you really don't want to ruin your shoes and second, he can't escape you in a tiny car. He will have to finally speak.

The two of you run over to his Porsche. Of course he would have a Porsche.

"I'm getting your seat wet, i'm so sorry" you blurt out the moment the two of you are in the car.

"Don't worry about it" He turns the car on and turns on the heat.

"Thank you for this." You smile at him hoping he will look over at you.

Instead he just nods and puts the car in reverse backing out of the parking space.

You don't even tell him where you live but he pulls out front of your building anyway.

"Ummm.... how did you?"

"I dropped you off junior year after your friend ditched you."

"Right, I forgot about that" you scratch the back of your neck and purse your lips but don't make a move towards getting out of the car.

"Why do you come see me?" you look directly at him.

"What?" His voice sounds a bit defensive

"I'm not bothered by it. Really, I'm just curious"

"I like coffee." He answers as he turns his head toward you.

"No. it's something else. C'mon tell me" you flutter your lashes and give him a puppy dog look, no one can withstand your puppy dog look.

He chuckles and rolls his neck. "I remember"

This peaks your interest "Remember what?"

He sighs "I remember every single time you talked to me, looked at me, walked by me and waved. Hell, i remember when you held the door open for me. twice"

Your breath catches in your throat.

"I'm not crazy and i'm not a stalker i swear" he rubs his collar bone nervously. "it's just..... you were my salvation. The one person who didn't run from me or sneer at me or judge me and hate me" he grips the steering wheel tightly.

you reach over and gently rub his knuckles as they turn white. he takes a deep breath in at the skin to skin contact.

"So in other words.... you miss me?" You ask with a tiny smile and a blush on your cheeks.

"yeah, if you wanna make it simple i guess that would be the right term for it"

"How much?" Your voice drops from your sweet and kind persona, to a more sultry sound.

Aemond catches this right away. "Umm.... what?"

you get up on the seat, on your knees and lean over the center console. getting up close to his ear. "How much did you miss me? Like, was it driving you crazy?" You place your hand on his shoulder tracing your finger along his neck "Keeping you up at night?"

his breath comes out in unsteady huffs "You really shouldn't"

"Hmmm?"

"I will not be able to control myself if you keep that up" he grips the steering wheel tighter and suddenly the situation in this car had changed completely.

You were no longer teasing him to get a rise and reaction out of him. Him stating he wouldn't be able to control himself lit a fire in you. You felt this urge to push him there. A burning pooling in your belly you were not going to ignore. No, just this once you were going to indulge.

You lean over further bringing your mouth to his ear. "Maybe I want to see it"

He bites his bottom lip, then grabs your face pressing his lips against yours harshly. Lust and desperation apparent in his kiss. His hand slides up the back of your neck to the base of your head holding you close as he continues to devour you. Like a man starved.

Before your brain has even caught up to what is happening he grips your thigh harshly pulling you over the center console and into his lap. he quickly grabs your hips pushing you down into him as his tongue continues to explore your mouth.

"I've dreamt of this for ages" he whispers as he kisses and nibbles along your jawline making you purr contently. Being wanted this bad is the biggest turn on you have ever experienced.

You roll your hips against him chasing that pressure. When he feels this he growls and pushes your core against him as he ruts up against you.

"I have to have it." He begs with a breathy sigh "Gods please i have to"

You unbuckle your khakis and slide them off your legs giggling at the slight gymnastics you have to perform in order to get them off. Once they are off you drop back onto his lap and he runs his hands up your back pulling you tight up against him. His mouth finds yours again as his slips his hand between your thighs and slides a finger inside of you.

"I knew you would be perfect, I fuckin knew it" He groans as he adds a second finger pumping in and out of you slowly. he hooks his finger finding that spot inside of you that sends you to ecstasy. You close your eyes and roll your head back moving your hips rhythmically against his hand.

"oh god, oh god!" You squeal as he brings you over the edge, you clenching around his fingers. He immediately unfastens his jeans sliding them down to his thighs and pulling you over him.

"is this ok?" He asks gripping your hips tightly

You nod and he pushes your hips down sliding himself into you slowly. he makes a noise somewhere between a gasp and a growl as you sink down onto him.

"This ain't gonna last long darlin" he grunts as he thrusts up into you. He bites down on your shoulder as he pulls you down over him over and over thrusting up into you at the same time. He rubs your pearl with his thumb as he quickens his pace.

Jaw slack and eyes like dinnerplates he watches as you come done a second time and groans

"Where? Where?" He whines "Fuck"

"I'm on birth control it's fine" You bite his bottom lip "Go ahead"

"Fuck! Ok Ok Fuck" He slams your hips down onto him three more times before his body tenses and squeezes your hips so tight you think your bones may snap.

you rest your forehead on his shoulder as the both of you regulate your breathing.

"Thank god it's fucking pouring" You giggle.

"Yeah, that was a bit mental wasn't it?" he laughs while breathing heavily and running his fingers through your hair.

You flop back over to the passengers seat and start pulling your trousers back on.

"See you at the coffee shop tomorrow?" you ask as you clasp the button.

"Always" he smiles back at you.

"Good, cuz i think I may need another ride..... " you giggle

"Really? you live so close" He teases back

"Who said I wanted to go home?" you wink at him as you hope out of the car. "See you tomorrow"

You shut the door and head inside with a huge grin on your face.

"Ok ... NOW everything is perfect"

To be added to taglist click here

[alittlebitofloveliness]

hiii idk if ur still taking requests or not but if u are literally any kind of darry angst would be amazing 🤗🤗

Hi anon! This is a bit more Curtis brothers angst but Darry centric exploring what might have happened if the Curtis parents died two years earlier. Please lmk what you think!

***********

“Please” Darry begs, “I’ll be eighteen in a month. A month! I swear I can take care of them. Please don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry,” the social worker says, and to her credit she does sound like she means it, “Since you're almost eighteen and because you’ve provided me with adequate proof you can support yourself I’m going to allow you to remain here at this time, but Sodapop is only fourteen and Ponyboy just turned twelve. They need a real guardian.”

“I can be their guardian,” Darry vows. It’s wrong they’re even having this conversation. His college acceptance letter sits on his desk, his football trophies on the shelf and yet he’d give all of it away in a heartbeat for this crackpot old woman to see sense, to understand that he’s just lost both of his parents and he cannot lose his brothers too. Why doesn’t she understand that? “You said it yourself, I can support myself. I can support them too. The lawyer said Mom and dad left me the house. I can officially claim it in a month, and I can cover bills until then. I already got three offers for another job, and I know how to cook and clean and drive-”

“Darrel,” the social worker cuts him off firmly but kindly, “this has nothing to do with whether or not you are capable. In fact, from what I’ve seen, and the frankly remarkable job you’ve done holding your family together I’d be more than happy to help you petition for guardianship of your brothers at a later time, if it’s still something you feel strongly about doing, but the fact of the matter is that almost eighteen is not the same as eighteen. You are not a legal adult, and you cannot be your brothers’ legal guardian until you are. It doesn’t matter how responsible or adult you are right now. It can’t happen.”

“Please,” Darry implores, “you can’t take them. We just lost mom and dad, I can’t lose them too.”

“I really am sorry,” she says, “and I mean it when I say I will help you try and get guardianship in a month. But I can’t let them stay with you right now, and honestly? Maybe it’s a good thing. I know you love your brothers but guardianship would mean putting your life on hold until Ponyboy turns eighteen- eight years from now. You couldn’t go to college, travel, do much of anything really. This month will give you time to think that over, decide if it’s something you’re truly prepared to do.”

Anger, bright and hot as a supernova bursts in his chest.

“I would do anything to keep them. Anything. I don’t want college or sports or nothing if it means they’d be stuck in some foster home with people who don’t care anything about them.”

“We make sure all our foster parents are vetted very carefully-”

“Yeah, sure,” Darry scoffs, “I know a dozen kids who grew up in the foster system. I’m sure all those bruises were just from kids being kids, especially the handprints. With all due respect, I think you’ve forgotten what part of town you're in. East side kids never end up in the good homes.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way.”

“Save your apologies,” Darry chokes, ashamed to feel hot tears start to prick his eyes, “it’s clear your mind is made up and ain’t nothing I can do to change it.”

“I promise you, I will help you try and get them back. As soon as you're eighteen.”

“I’ll call you the minute the clock hits midnight on my birthday,” Darry threatens, “see if I won’t.”

“That’s fair,” the social worker smiles but Darry refuses to smile back. He hates her, for all she is trying to be as kind and helpful as she can. She’s going to take his brothers away. To him, she can only ever be a villain, “you guys can stay together here one more night while I sort out placements for Ponyboy and Sodapop. I’ll be back at ten tomorrow morning. Do you want to tell your brothers or should I?”

Well Darry sure as hell isn’t going to break their hearts, and Ms. Summers has done a good enough job already of shattering what remained of his own.

“You do it,” he spits, “I ain’t gonna ruin their lives.”

Her sympathy has run deep enough that pity now reigns on her face and she ignores his attitude, the way she has ignored all his attitude so far. It’s more than he probably deserves. He still hates her for it.

“No,” Soda says before Ms. Summers has even finished explaining, his brown eyes shining with a primal sort of fear that puts another crack in Darry’s already broken heart. Soda was made to be grinning, not meant to ever look so terrified, “no you ain’t puttin’ me in no foster house. Me’n my brothers are stayin’ right here, together, thank you very much.”

“I’m afraid I wasn’t asking,” Ms. Summers says, still talking in that infuriatingly gentle tone. 

Soda- easygoing, sweet Sodapop, who called ladies ma’am without fail, who everyone adored- glares at her, backing away the way a cornered animal might.

“I ain’t going! I ain’t! And you ain't taking Pony neither! Darry ain’t gonna let you take us, right Dar?”

He looks at him, brown eyes wide and desperate in his face, and Darry knows things will never be the same after this because it’s his job to protect Soda and Pony, always has been and always will be, and yet right now he is failing to do just that and Soda may never forgive him for it.

“Soda…”

“No!” He’s crying now, tears running freely down his face as he clutches Ponyboy close to his side, arm falling protectively around their baby brother’s tiny shoulders because Pony- whose eyes are the same sort of haunted they’ve been since mom and dad died, and whose face shows nothing but terrified resignation- hasn’t hit his growth spurt yet. Because he’s twelve. Only twelve.

“I know this is hard for you” Ms Summers continues, “and I’m going to do my best to make sure you and Ponyboy get placed together, but you can’t stay with Darry right now.”

“Why not? He’s good at bein’ a guardian. Shit, I’ve eaten more vegetables in the last week than I ever did when mom and Dad were alive-

“Because Darry isn’t eighteen.” Ms. Summers cuts him off, “and you need to be at least eighteen for the government to consider granting guardianship.”

“I’m gonna get you back,” Darry promises, ignoring the social worker and instead locking eyes with his brothers, first Soda, then Pony, “I swear it, as soon as I turn eighteen I’m gonna get you back and you can come home and we’ll all be together again. But we gotta behave if I’m gonna have any chance at all, so please stop arguin’. I don’t like this any more than you do but we gotta-” he clears his throat, “we gotta play ball, ok kiddo? We gotta do what we’re told.”

Soda gives the social worker one more murderous glance, but pulls himself together, a mask of eerie calm overtaking his features. “Fine.”

“Ill see you all tomorrow then. I can show myself out.” Ms Summers offers them one last pitying smile as she shuts the door behind her. 

As soon as she’s gone Soda is on top of him, crying so hard he can hardly breathe,. Pony is clutching his other side so hard he might have bruises, and Darry wraps them both in his arms, wishing he could keep them here forever where they would be safe and he could help them relearn how to be happy. It’s somehow the worst and best moment of his life. On the one hand they’re still blissfully here with him. On the other hand, they won’t be for long.

“I’m sorry,” belatedly Darry realizes he’s crying too, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I tried everything, she wouldn't let me keep you, I tried, I tried.”

Pony just hugs him harder, burying his face in his chest and Soda wails.

Eventually they all stop crying, but the mood in the house is somber. The gang comes around, moods dampening one by one as they hear the news, and Darry makes chocolate cake for dinner since there’s no point in making healthy food if the social workers are taking the boys anyway. In the end it doesn’t matter- none of them have much of an appetite, even for cake.

He walks in on Steve and Soda plotting to run away together before the social worker comes. Talks them out of it by reminding them that he’ll never get guardianship if Soda goes truant while still technically in his care. Eventually, the gang leaves and the it’s the three of them once more, crowded together on the living room couch in an unspoken agreement. None of them want to sleep, unwilling to miss even a second that they have left together.

“Darry?” Pony whispers, his head resting on Darry’s shoulder.

“Yeah, bud?”

“I’m scared.”

“I know,” Darry says, heat clenching, “I’m scared too.”

A few minutes later Pony’s weight drops a little more against him and he starts to snore, out cold. Darry pulls him a little closer, plants a kiss on the top of his wild hair. 

“Soda?” Darry says softly a few minutes later, careful not to wake Pony.

“Hmm,” Soda blinks at him sleepily, “yeah Dar?’

“Promise me you’ll take care of him,” he glances down at Ponyboy’s peaceful face. Asleep like this he looks downright childlike, “and yourself too, savvy? I’m sorry- I’m sorry I can’t do it myself, but you gotta be strong for me, alright? Just for a month or two until I get you back.”

“I promise,” Soda vows, “he’ll be safe with me, I’ll make sure of it. No matter where they put us.”

“I know you will, little buddy.”  Darry sighs. 

Soda sniffs. “I’m really gonna miss you, Dar. it ain’t right, takin’ me from my big brother when we just lost our folks. It ain’t right.”

“I’ll get you back,” Darry promises again, because what else is there to say, really? “I’ll talk to the president himself if I have to but I swear I’ll get you back.”

“I know you will,” Soda tells him, eyes shining. 

They don’t talk for the rest of the night.

The morning dawns with a sunrise that mocks them with it’s beauty and a buttery sunshine that illuminates the sorrow on all their faces when Mrs. Summers shows up and they all have to say goodbye. The gangs around, everyone but Dallas who got jailed two days ago, and Pony and Soda take their time with their goodbyes. When Soda reaches Darry, he hugs him tight for a second, and gets chocked up trying to say something three times before he gives up. Pony hugs Darry with a strength he rarely sees from the kid, and Darry tells him over and over that he loves him because when things get tough that’s the sort of thing Ponyboy forgets.

Then they leave, Mrs. Summers' blue Toyota rounding the corner, and a big part of Darry’s heart goes with them.

He goes back inside. Steve and Two-bit both follow him, casting him concerned looks, but he can’t deal with their worry right now. He has twenty eight days before his birthday to compile an airtight case as to why he’s the perfect guardian for a teenager and a preteen boy, and three job offers on his desk that can make that case a lot more airtight than it currently is.

It’s time to get to work.

[papirouge]

This exchange made me realize that many of you tend to forget that Carmy is a late bloomer who never had any girlfriend before Claire which actually explains his awkward behavior. I know it because I too am an awkward late bloomer (around the same age as Carmy and sharing a lot of common with him) and his behavior totally made sense to me lol

I want you all to keep in mind that when you've been closed off romantic elationships for your entire life, you're not handling them the same way people who started dating in their teens or young adult years (Carmy is most likely in his early 30s and never got into any relationships before).

Carmy, like any late bloomer, was used to never being considered romantically, which explains why he freaked out when Claire started flirting with him and stopped thinking rationally (which is very unfamiliar for emotionally avoidant type like Carmy or I - we'll come back to this later). I understand Carmy's move of giving a false number to Claire yet still accepting to go out with her later may be confusing to many people, but as a fellow late bloomer I immediately clocked it : we are not comfortable with the attention people give to us, but we *know* this behavior is not normal/unhealthy so Carmy eventually giving in may be a way of eventually getting into the mold and abide to the "if you don't open up to others and give them chances, how can you expect building actual relationships?" mantra. Because deep down we want to be like others (because being so closed off all the time can become emotionally draining) and seek to find a way to fit in.

Another thing about people like Carmy/emotional avoidant type is that by being so closed off to the world, we are also extremely deceptive about who we truly are. It makes sense to me that Carmy hides his feelings for Syd and would rather project them onto Claire. That's definitely manipulative, but we'd rather do that than get "uncovered". We tend to think very rationally and our sense of self perseveration is incredibly strong. I just know that howing his bare feelings has to be one of the most terrifying and embarrassing thing for Carmy.

We also don't mind getting confused as someone we are not in which we feel some sort of relief because it keeps our real self away from others perception (if that make sense???). Carmy passing himself as "Logan" in that party -while being quite extreme- is totally on brand actually lol. I regularly get mistaken as a male (I'm lowkey gnc) but I never bother correcting people lol I'm fine being whatever they see me as, as long it's not the real me.

Talking about self preservation: we don't ask and don't tell. Carmy sister being mad at him for never asking her whether she was okay was extremely relatable because I tend to get the same reproach from my own sisters. Very typical of us. Fleeing to the other side of the globe to cope with a family member death is something I *get* because we are avoidant in nature. We can also be insane hustlers and tend to cope with grief or unhealed emotions through work.

On the positive side, we are extremely independent and self reliant. The scene in the fridge (last episode of season 2) where Carmy loses his shit and says he was mad at himself for indulging in all "this bullshit" (= love and relationships) I FELT THAT. Countless times I prayed to God to remove from my heart my "shameful" longing for love & intimacy that I always felt hindered me in my quest for excellence & satisfaction in any other aspect of my life. Because we are very rational & practical people and lowkey despise "useless" stuff like relationships and feelings. And that's where the messed up part comes up.

I wouldn't be surprised Carmy lowkey despises Claire for being so clingy and courting him so openly. As I just said, we tend to look down on (bold) displayal of love and emotion which lowkey repulse us. I think that's why Carmy dislikes his sister's husband when he's an all around good guy. He may have a resentment (and even jealousy?) against this man that has no issue showing affection - not only to his sister, but also the rest of the family. Which Carmy still struggles to do so far.

This may also explain why Carmy is suddenly so cold with Claire when he's serving her at the table (beside him allegedly previously making up his mind to break up with her). That's why the moment he hears that voicemail of Claire saying she "loves him" he THROWS AWAY his phone. Because that's disgusting.

I think the CarmyxSyd dynamic is unique because there's a dimension of respect between both. They share the same passion for cuisine, and Sydney constantly pushes Carmy out of his comfort zone. As an avoidant emotional attachment type myself, when I think of the type of people I potentially could be attracted to, I can only think of people I have deeply respect for, and bring objective value into my life AND skills. I've seen people criticize the fact that Sydney was pretty much a "warrior worker" for Carmy (and pretty much the whole Bear crew) and that's true. But regardless it's a good or bad thing, that's pretty much the type of profile that may attract avoidant emotional type of people. Bonding through work & shared passion is our safest field to build romantic connection through. That's why Carmy made Syd sign a partnership agreement instead of a marriage contract 💅🏾 that's the safest way for him to convey his feelings.

Again, we are very rational people and in every type of relationship, we instinctively jauge whether & how this person might be useful for us. It doesn't mean we built relationship with people depending on whether they can be useful for us or not, but that's definitely in a part of our head somewhere. Yes, that's fucked up (1/because we are 2/that's why emotionally distant people can become pretty unlikable - i.e Carmy carmying), but you have to keep that in mind to understand how Carmy moves. Which tracks back to Claire's actual purpose I've elaborated just before. He definitely uses her, but most likely unknowingly.

[welcometogrouchland]

I feel like for the first few years of guardianship Darius and Hunter really struggle to figure out how to refer to each other.

Like it's easier for Hunter, he pretty quickly settles on "guardian" for explaining their relationship to other people and just referring to Darius by name when talking to the man himself. Overtime the phrasing gradually warms, becoming "foster parent" and eventually, once Hunter's already an adult old enough to move out, "Dad".

(Sidenote: he doesn't move out til he's in his mid to late twenties, bc he's under no obligation too, Darius low-key doesn't want him too, and the two of them want to make up for lost time in a sense, since Hunter only had 2 years of legal dependency on Darius before aging out of the system. Darius adopts Hunter retroactively as an adult)

Darius on the other hand has a real conundrum on his hands for those first few years. He has a lot of options! But "ward" is too formal and makes it sound like Darius picked him up off the street like after his parents were murdered, "apprentice/student" isn't really accurate considering the focus of Darius and Hunter's relationship has less to do with Hunter learning magic and more to do with Hunter being housed and fed. "Kid" and "foster son" are there...but...

Look, Darius isn't going to refer to Hunter more familiarly than Hunter refers to him! He's not gonna make it WEIRD. He's not a dad, because Hunter doesn't want/need him to be (and also parenthood is scary <3). Darius doesn't know the first thing about being a dad, despite how his friend group teases him.

Eda and Eberwolf are the two who are worst about it. They torture him with how 'fatherly' he's allegedly being (allegations Darius will DENY til his GRAVE!!!) And Eda specifically compares his journey to hers, saying it always starts off with you referring to them as your apprentice (again, Darius doesn't plan on doing that), as your roommate (...kinda weird in Darius' opinion? But okay Eda), or even your pet (????HELLO???). But eventually, they always become your dumb kid when you least expect it.

She's had a couple cups of appleblood by this point, but Darius knows on some level she's right and he's steadfastly ignoring that fact, even as Eber continues to refer to Hunter as his "cub" (kinda cute but Darius doesn't know how Hunter would feel being compared to an animal). The only people who are even remotely reasonable about all this (besides Lilith who's a bit disinterested in kid talk) is Raine and Alador, who both sort of neutrally, a bit awkwardly refer to Hunter as Darius' Boy.

Darius referring to Hunter as "my boy" is funnily enough what sticks the longest before it evolves to son boy. Hunter's crushing it at a derby match? Darius is whooping and cheering, yelling "THAT'S MY BOY!!!" At the other parents in the stands. Hunter is doing something dangerous or inadvisable where others can see him? "Darius, your boy-" "AHH! MY BOY". Hunter, a year into his stay with Darius finally comes clean about everything to do with him being a grimwalker, and is afraid that he's going to go back to seeing him as just an inferior replacement for Darius' beloved mentor? Darius (who has just had to process some of the most bonkers, emotionally heavy information in his life) gently, hesitantly puts a hand on his shoulder (the 'good' one Hunter doesn't mind people touching), and says that Hunter's much more than that. He's Darius' Boy and he's not going to kick him out or get angry or love him any less for things out of his control. It's good. They're good.

Like I said, it evolves over time and 'boy' becomes somewhat obsolete as the two get caught up in the joy of finally feeling able to explicitly refer to each other as family. But unlike "guardian" or "ward" the word never gets fully retired. Even when Hunter is 30 and is arguing that he's more of a man than a boy now, he is still getting referred to by Darius as "his boy", the way some parents never really stop calling their adult kids baby or kiddo (Camila and Eda respectively btw).

Hunter makes one of those corny matching shirt sets at some point for a father's Day gift when he's 17/18, where the two shirts say "if lost, return Boy to me" (Darius) and "I'm Boy" (Hunter). Hunter mostly did it so he could own a funny shirt that says "I'm boy". Darius openly weeps upon seeing them. Like Oh my Titan he's boy. He's my boy. Oh wow

[1863-project]

I've been thinking a lot lately about my experiences as an autistic adult and how difficult certain things actually have been for me, and one of the things that really hit me recently was how I can tell the patrons at the library I work at are judging me. They say things to me they'd never say to my co-workers, because my co-workers seem "normal" to them. But I can think of two different cases in the last year or so that really stand out to me that illustrate this.

The first was a patron who wanted the writing address of the governor of New Hampshire. I found it and went to write it down for her. She didn't want it that way, she wanted it printed. Of course, Wikipedia wasn't going to print well, and she was starting to get difficult about it, so I came up with a solution - I'd type it into a Word document and print it for her. I was excited that I'd come up with something, and I enthusiastically expressed this excitement by raising the volume of my voice. She decided I was "weird," told me so to my face, and left instead of letting me help her.

More recently, I showed similar excitement when showing a patron how to use Google Maps, excitedly reassuring her that we'd do it together and that I wasn't going to just tell her to do something she didn't know how to do. This patron told me my enthusiasm made me seem "like a schoolgirl." I deflated immediately, pointed out I was actually 34 years old, and did everything else with an extremely dampened mood.

Being an autistic adult in the workplace - or anywhere - is an uncomfortable experience. The first patron decided I was scary. The second patron infantilized me. The dichotomy of being an autistic adult is that some people decide you're uncanny and scary and some people decide you're actually a child. Both are microaggressions. Both are ableism. The third option is, of course, to mask so well they can't tell, and then get told "But you don't seem autistic!" when you drop the big reveal on them (if you do). There's no winning here.

I think, often, of Ingo and Emmet, autistic adults who, like me, are in the workplace, are really good at their jobs and take them seriously, and are really enthusiastic about what they do. I think about what sorts of things people must say to them, about the judgment they likely experience from passengers and trainers. I think about how gratifying it must be for them to repeatedly face trainers like Hilda, who only cares about battling and not who she's up against, because in those moments there's no judgment, just Pokemon battles. Just as my regular patrons who know me and are okay with me are a comfort to me, so too must their returning trainers be one to them, a beacon of acceptance in a world that refuses to understand.

I think sometimes about how I can't go into the tags for these characters that are just like me, because there's content that treats them the way the real world treats me. It isn't all of the things people make, but it's enough that I can't take the chance of looking myself, because you never know. It's been this way since 2010, and it shows no signs of stopping. I think about how all fandoms have this problem, about how many people experience this, and it hurts deep in my chest. I wish desperately for a kinder world in which people like me aren't treated as "weird" because we're enthusiastic about work, because we don't have volume control, because we can't mask, because we're not like most people.

I do what I've always done - I generally just talk about the things I like with trusted friends who also like the things I like. It's safer that way. I don't have to worry about stumbling upon the things I already experience in real life. If my friends find something safe, they bring it to me, a wonderful show of kindness and affection that I am always deeply grateful for.

I just wish I lived in a world that thought about how things affect people more, about how a respectful portrayal can give someone hope and help them love the person in the mirror. But every "unhinged" or "scary" depiction of normal autistic traits reminds me how far we still have to go, how Autism Speaks and other hate groups still dominate the narrative even as they fade into the background.

Everyone can do what they want in fandom, but it's supposed to be an inclusive space, not an alienating one, and I think it's good to be thoughtful. You never know who you may be helping or hurting.

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 8: What Took You So Long

From: Bigger Houses Series

Pairing: Mountain Ranger! Ari x Reader

Summary: Finding forever took forever. Now it’s time to slow it down.

Word Count: 3,414

Content/Warnings: moderate alcohol consumption, mildly negative self-talk, looking back on the past, poking fun, mild swears, entirely too much affection, learning to cook, mild allusions to adult fun times, pet name usage

A/N: hehehe, the thought of grocery shopping with a SO has been eating me up recently. Also, a good friend of mine thinks I’m becoming disillusioned to what real-life romance is like. Oops

Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are sooooo welcome and appreciated!!

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Below is the song which inspired this chapter. Talk about sappy.

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You and Ari were grocery shopping when it hit him. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. A part of him had known the whole time, but this moment had really made it click.

You weren’t even looking at him, your eyes instead favoring the rows of produce, mentioning facts about how to determine when each fruit or vegetable was ripe. It was beautifully mundane, it was you sharing a little more of yourself and your wide breadth of knowledge he could never get over, and it was everything he ever wanted to love for the rest of time.

He was in awe of the way you moved through the aisles, your natural understanding of everything a person could possibly need, and how well you knew his preferences.

You pulled out spices, describing the dishes that utilize them. You explained the importance of salt, but not too much, and why a person could possibly need more than one kind. You walked him through different ways to make a balanced meal. The entire time, he was enthralled. He was completely taken by you and hung on to every word like it would save his life. Well, it sort of already did.

The two of you went to the checkout counter with your full cart, Ari pushing it as you began to load the items onto the belt.

Ari helped the cashier bag them up, and before he could even think to pull out his wallet, you’d already swiped your card. Ari cocked his head to the side, his long hair that peeked out from under his hat swaying. The ball cap looked so funny in juxtaposition to his ranger uniform, which he still wore as a product of you picking him up from work. His eyebrow raised as if to say ‘seriously?’

You smiled and shrugged as you took the receipt, skipping off in front of him as he pushed the cart out of the store and to your SUV. You slowed to allow him to catch up.

“You know I could’ve gotten that. These groceries are for my house, after all.” You laughed before reaching the car and pressing the button for the lift gate.

As the trunk began to open, Ari parked the cart and you felt arms wrap around you from behind. His beard bristled against your neck as he nestled in with his chin on your shoulder and kissed your cheek.

A soft smile remained on your face. “Consider it a gift. Welcome to independence, and official adulthood.”

He laughed into your hair. “Well it hardly counts as independence if you just took care of me. Swooping down to save the day again like the Angel you are. If you’re not careful, people are gonna think you’re my sugar mommy. Then I’m definitely not independent or much of a full-on grown-up.”

You rolled your eyes before turning around to start placing the bags into the trunk, keeping your head down doing your best to hide your blush at what Ari just said. You loved that he thought the world of you, and loving Ari like that was easy. Now, in terms of the sugar mommy comment, you both knew your job paid better, but neither had an issue with it, so any time it came up, he loved to joke like that, despite him having some savings from living so modestly.

Once you finished loading, you looked up into his sparkling eyes, creased with the smile he always wore when around you, finally replying. “I’ll give you sugar, you just have to wait until we’re home for it.”

You winked before giving him a chaste kiss, far too short for his liking, closing the trunk, and hopping up into the driver’s side, leaving Ari to return the cart.

When Ari returned to you, you started the car towards his cabin. You drove with one hand on the wheel, the other holding his over the center console. His thumb absent-mindedly stroked the back of your hand as Ari looked out the window, thinking about how he was going to pick out a ring.

Ari was finally losing his bachelor fridge. Gone were the days of it only housing lunch meat and beer.

You had just helped him finish putting away the new haul as he had gotten changed out of his uniform. Everything had a place and he had never seen the cabinets so full. You had a methodical system he really appreciated.

Ari’s hands were on your hips as he was about to set you on the counter before you stopped him, placing a hand on his chest.

“Wait, stop.”

He looked at you confused.

You removed your hand from his chest and held a pointer finger up. “One more thing. Gimme a sec. I left it in the car.”

You dipped under his arm that had you barricaded against the counter, running towards the front door and slipping on the first pair of shoes you saw, Ari’s massive boots clopping as you ran on the driveway. You opened up the back door of your car, looking under the seat to pull out a small package wrapped in brown paper and a twine bow.

You ran back in to where Ari was still standing there with his mouth agape, one hand on the countertop, the other on his hip. You cautiously crept towards him with the package tucked behind your back.

His face morphed into a suspicious smile. “Whatcha got there, Duchess?”

You giggled, toes meeting his as you looked up at his towering form. He made a move to reach behind your back before you quickly slid out of his reach.

“Ah ah ah, surprises are meant to be given, not stolen, ya little klepto. Now close your eyes.”

Ari’s head fell forward with a sigh before looking back at you through his eyelashes. “Fine.”

His eyelids fluttered shut as he held out his hands and you pulled the small package out from behind your back, carefully placing it.

“Okay, open.” Ari looked down at the brown paper intently.

“What is it? What’s the occasion? You already bought my groceries.”

He set it on the counter before propping you up onto the island like he had tried to before. You shrugged, your hands gripping the edge as your feet swung.

“Open it. I know we didn’t really discuss gifts or anything, but happy one year of me almost hitting you with my car.”

He laughed, picking it up again and untying the twine. “The first or second time?”

He knew which time. It was the first one. He marked the day as soon as he’d gotten home from your first coffee shop date, counting back the days to that fateful run-in on the mountain pass.

You kicked his thigh lightly before silently urging him to tear open the paper. It revealed a small cookbook.

“‘Cooking for Two?’ What-“ His eyes grew wide. “You’re not…” he looked around before ducking his head slightly and whispering. “Pregnant…are you?”

You shoved him back. “What!? No. No!”

You shook your head frantically. “Absolutely not. That is not what this means.”

The two of you were more than careful enough to make sure that didn’t happen—at least not right now. You’d made sure to find the right birth control and Ari took proper precautions on his end, as well.

You laughed uncomfortably before going silent. Ari let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, okay, that’s good- I mean, not that I wouldn’t….like, well, kids….um.”

You calmed him, placing both hands on his shoulders. “I-I get it trust me. I want kids, too someday, just not right now. It’s okay, we’re on the same page about that.”

He nodded and placed his head on your shoulder as your hand moved to stroke his hair.

“Thank you for understanding me. Where have you been all my life?” Seriously, he couldn’t believe that heaven ever let him find you.

You placed a kiss on his temple. “I was getting prepared to meet you.”

You leaned back to catch his gaze. “Now let me explain. This book, which is most definitely not a pregnancy cookbook, is because I’m hoping to start spending more dinners here now that you’re all stocked. As much as I love cooking for you, I think it’s important we both know how.”

You gestured your head to the single book that sat on the shelf in the corner of his kitchen. “Plus, I think you’ve earned an addition to the collection. You’ve graduated on to the next best thing. The pizza incident is a thing of the past.”

He shook his head reminiscing on the memory. “It’s not my fault you distracted me.”

You looked at him with feigned shock and disbelief as he leaned in for a kiss. “But as my present to you, let me cook you dinner?”

You nodded, leaning in to meet him. The kiss was soft and slow before it became needier. Ari tried pulling you close, his one arm falling from your waist down to your hip, the other still holding the book, before you placed your hand on his chest again, pushing him away.

“Nice try, Bear, but I’m starving. As much as I wanted to see where that kiss went, I want food more. Chop chop.”

You grabbed the other end of the book still sitting in your lap and gently raised it, pushing it towards his face and turning him towards the stove.

“You pick out a recipe while I get some drinks started for us. Sound good?”

As much as Ari would’ve grumbled at anyone else, he was happy to oblige you, flipping through the pages as you pulled out two glasses and began pouring.

Ari was so happy with the way you took over his space. Everywhere he looked, he saw you. Every room in the small shack had been filled with laughs and memories that filled his chest with warmth. Gone were the days that pained him to even look at the walls as the darkness seeped in. All that existed was light. It shined off of you and stayed reflecting off every surface, leaving an imprint of contentment in Ari’s brain, even when you weren’t here.

Ari leaned back against the counter next to the stove, arms crossed as he simply watched you. Over the period of him preparing the meal that was nearly finished, you had changed into one of his old wildlife conservation hoodies he’d gotten from working a fundraiser.

You danced without a care in the world, swaying with your arms above your head to the music you had blasting through the small cabin. Your one hand held your second cocktail of the evening.

As much as Ari hated to, he had to pull his gaze off you for a second to check the roast on the stove. When he opened the pot lid, you caught a whiff of the truly delectable scent. The sweetness of carrots swirled with the seasoning blend over the braised beef.

You set your glass down on the island, dancing over to him and stepping up behind the wall of a man. No spanks in the kitchen was a long-standing rule, which was a shame for the sweatpants he was wearing, but nothing was ever contested about hugs.

Your arms snaked around his waist and up under the front of his shirt as you rested your cheek between his shoulder blades. You could feel the ripple of each muscle as his arms expertly maneuvered and he breathed steadily, it was like marble that moved. Yet, there was a softness to it, maybe from the sensation of the chest hair under your fingertips, maybe from the smell of the fabric softener he used. There was always a softness to Ari, especially around you.

He hummed, reaching to pull low-rimmed bowls down from the cabinet, serving up the meal and setting it aside before running his hands up his shirt to meet yours. He turned around and pulled your hands between the two of you, placing a kiss on each hand, right on the ring finger. Starting forever was at the forefront of his mind, unbeknownst to you.

“Ready to eat?”

You nodded with wide eyes, grabbing silverware and dancing over to the dining room as Ari followed with your meals, dancing along.

As the sun fell, you and Ari were still sitting at his dining room table. His small work-provided cabin didn’t offer much room to move around, but there was just enough for the two of you and you didn’t mind being cozy.

You were putting together a puzzle under the warm lighting, newly donned fuzzy socks on your feet that he’d tucked away as a surprise for this very special day, finally giving them to you after dinner.

The two of you moved quickly, but not hastily, as you passed Ari the outline pieces and you worked to piece together the internal scenery. Your movements were paired with witty banter and discussions about past lives. No matter how much time you spent together, you could never learn enough. You wanted to know everything.

“So that was the spring break I spent doing cleanup work for a tornado. It’s not like I had any plans otherwise besides going home, but my mom understood it was what I needed to do.”

Ari nodded along. He enjoyed learning about the road you took that led your hearts to each other. All the things you did with your hours and your minutes. Seriously, what didn’t you do? Even now you were constantly on the move, filling your schedule with valuable, enriching things. You chased your dreams even if they took you far away from your hometown. At least, that was how he saw it. How could you always find the time to be with him? To dedicate to him when you had so many other things on your plate?

He didn’t want to question it too much, though, for fear that you’d catch on and think he didn’t live up to how amazing you were. But Ari thought to himself more, realizing the good he really had done. What took him so long? Where had this version of him been all his life? You had awoken it in him. You had pushed him to become a better version of himself.

He was roused from his thoughts by your question. “So what about you? Ever do anything fun for spring break in college?”

Ari’s eyebrows rose as he thought back to it. He hadn’t finished college and it honestly seemed like a lifetime ago. He blew out a breath and leaned back in his chair.

“Well, I only had two spring breaks. I remember going down to Daytona beach with some buddies of mine, getting drunk on Coronas and them all being drunk on love with whoever they met down there.”

You took a sip of your drink, nodding as you swallowed. “Sounds about normal. I bet you were a charmer back in the day, too. Sometimes I wish we’d met then.”

Ari shook his head vigorously at that, taking the drink from your hands and finishing it down. “Ehhhh…I’m not so sure about that. I do not think you would’ve liked to have met me then. I probably wasn’t deserving to be in your arms.”

Your brows pinched together as you took the drink back, going to Ari’s fridge and getting a fresh round of beer, hunching over to reach the shelf. “I don’t agree that you weren’t deserving. Sure, we lived different lives, but you were still you.”

Ari thanked you as you placed the new bottle in his hand, taking your seat again and shuffling the puzzle pieces.

“I mean, Bear, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who actually cares about being a ranger as much as you do. You go to all those little conferences and retreats and trainings and actually enjoy them. That’s not just a trait that develops overnight. It’s character.”

Ari blushed. Not even the cold beer was enough to counteract the warmth in his cheeks that came around when you said little things like that. When he could see how much of the little things you noticed. When you saw him.

He scoffed and tried to brush it off, though. As much as he loved to hear your praise, he respectfully disagreed with your assessment of his college self. Sure, if it had been up to him then, he would’ve been ecstatic to meet you a lot sooner, but God knew what he was doing making Ari wait all this time.

“Nah, I was a bit of a punk. And I wasn’t ready then to meet someone like you, but I think I’m ready now.” It was true. Right when Ari met you was when his world started spinning, but he wouldn’t have been able to handle it as the immature, reckless, and restless young delinquent he was.

“I definitely wasn’t doing humanitarian work like you. Trust me, Duchess, if you would’ve seen me…let’s just say…I don’t think I would’ve ever gotten the opportunity like now to kiss you every morning with the sunshine. I would’ve blown it pretty early on.”

You shrugged and continued to snap pieces into place with one hand while the other reached for his, pulling it to your lips for a kiss. “Agree to disagree.”

The puzzle was shaping up now, as you worked to slide your solved chunks in towards the middle with Ari. Only a few pieces were left to be placed.

Ari continued to work on the task at hand, but it took a back seat in his mind to the main show that was you. Sure, he loved little activities, but mostly, he just loved you and the time you could spend together. He’d do anything if it meant just stealing another moment.

As you were close to finishing, there were two spots open, but only one puzzle piece left. You stood up, looking on your seat, spinning around to check the floor, and even peeking under the mostly-solved puzzle with no luck.

“Bear, stand up. Do you see the last piece anywhere? Can you please help me find it?”

He stood up and cleared his throat. “Sure thing. It’s gotta be here somewhere. This was a new set. Couldn’t have gone far.”

The two of you looked over every nearby surface, Ari even checking the fridge to see if you’d tracked it into there somehow, and to get himself another drink after looking for the piece at the bottom of his bottle.

Somehow this hunt had turned into a dance, though. Or…more of a hobble?, as Ari had wrapped his arms around your neck, hugging you from behind and resting his head over one shoulder, taking big, goofy, swaying steps with you.

He lived for this. Really. Where had you been all his life? This night was another quotidian moment he wanted to bask in. He felt like it had taken him forever to find the one he wanted to spend forever with, but now that he did, he just wanted time to slow down. He wanted to drag out this night just a little bit longer.

You turned around in his hold, hands rubbing his chest and abs over the old hoodie he wore. Your nails raked up and down, sending tingles to the firm muscles under the plush fabric. Ari held you close, large hands splayed against your lower back. As your hand brushed over the pocket in his sweatshirt, you felt something small and flat with sharp edges.

“Hm, that’s suspicious.” Your head tilted as you looked up at the tree of a man, a sly smile on his face, looking back down at you.

“Oh, Angel, I’m just excited to see you.”

Without breaking eye contact, you reached into the pocket, finding exactly what you’d expected, mouth open in a small gasp of fake shock.

“As much as you wish it were, not everything is about your dick, Levinson.”

You winked and leaned up to kiss his cheek. Ari simply gave a shrug as you shimmied out of his hold and back over to the table, sliding the final puzzle piece into place. This was a mimetic moment for him; a visual representation of what you’d done in his life, and he planned to never let you go.

Next >

Bonus A/N: Bro, a lil sap who thinks the world of me? That’s all I want. Fr Fr.

If you agree, I’d love to hear about it. Drop me a comment or reblog. Thank you for reading!!

Series Taglist:

@patzammit

@hawkeyes-queen

@identity2212

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@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

[thewertsearch]

Ask Comp 01/07

Anonymous asked:i think youre the first liveblogger ive seen to actually remember that orphaner dualscar was eridan’s flarping name?

Mindfang clearly describes the Serkets, so I wonder if Dualscar says anything about the Amporas?

Eridan's greatest enemy does have a duality theme, after all - and he was certainly scarred when the guy stole his crush >:)

@captorations asked:i have terrible news regarding homestuck and the good place: https://x.com/nbcthegoodplace/status/1039908767763259392?lang=en not to mention that. well. the two share more than you've encountered yet. it's very likely not a coincidence. have fun! oh and. re: my ongoing campaign of pointing out the homestuck ancestry of tlt characters. please compare aradia's "i am very much alive and i intend to stay that way" with dulcinea's "i'm not in the river and i won't ever be again"

...oh my god.

On reflection, this makes a lot of sense. Homestuck's fandom is pretty large, and some of its members were bound to be involved in the production of mainstream media. Still, it's wild to see a Homestuck reference - or, technically, a Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff reference - on the official Twitter for a show this big.

And Aradia does have a lot in common with Dulcinea, doesn't she? For one thing, they didn't really start influencing the plot until after they died.

Anonymous asked: Not really important anymore, but looking at what Gamzee has in his Strife Deck, it doesn’t look like he has any ranged options: he’s got the bowling pins, what appear to be a discarded sickle and lance from Karkat and Tavros respectively, what I’m PRETTY SURE is a whip of some sort, and the Zillyhoo hammer. The closest to a ranged weapon in that stack is the whip, or maybe the pins if he’s willing to throw them, but neither seem like they’d work very well against Vriska. Barring some secret power or other plot twist, I think Gamzee would genuinely be the underdog in that matchup. (Which feels weird, because Gamzee’s been mutating into a slasher villain while Vriska’s still very much an antihero protagonist. Usually the power balance is the other way around with those archetypes!)

On the face of it, Gamzee didn't seem to have great odds in that fight - but it's hard to know for sure with this pesky Bard. His Strife Deck contains plenty of cards we haven't seen, and whatever he did to the Black King is still shrouded in mystery. Everything's just so uncertain with him.

@mimescantscream asked: I've really been holding back all this time, but now that we've met the Grand-highblood, it really is extra painful to see a Gamzee who was once incredibly loving of his friends (despite their constant ridicule) end up falling down the path that fate seems to have pre-ordained for him. Was he truly always meant to repeat echoes of the past? Could things ever have gone differently for him?

Yeah, I've been having similar thoughts. His PoV seemed completely sincere, so I don't think his original personality was a fabrication, or anything. I think there is a part of Gamzee that cares about his friends - and maybe even he wants it back.

@jade-harley-real asked: […] I want a rant on the bad doctor from you pls pls pls

Scratch is straight up the scariest character in Homestuck.

What's he up to now? Hard to say since we're not telling him what to do. Guardians can never be told what to do.

The aura of menace he's cultivated is incredible, especially considering he barely even moves. He's playing the entire cast like a fiddle, armed with nothing but a typewriter and his own supercharged brain - and there's no doubt in my mind that his confidence isn't a mask. He knows he's going to win in the end.

English is coming. He's basically already here.

@elkian asked: I'll probably never be a Vriska FAN, but I gotta admit, she really never had a chance, what with the only adults in her life being: a trollvorous spider 1 missed meal away from eating her, Marquise "I do what I want" Mindfang, and Doc Scratch. Some role models! @manorinthewoods asked: So, now that Mindfang has been revealed, here's a question for you: how much of Vriska's Vriskyness is because she's Vriska, how much is because of Mindfang, how much is because of her lusus, and how much is because of Alternia in general? ~LOSS (20/6/24)

This is why I don't think she'd be like this on Earth. At this point, it's obvious that none of her Incidents were the result of her personality as it naturally arose.

I mean, look how anti-Aradiacide she was! They weren't even really friends!

Anonymous asked: ‘AA: there are all sorts of friends to meet AA: ones you already know and ones you dont’ I mean…couldn’t she just be referring to various doomed selves? I don’t see why the dream bubbles would just be confined to the alpha timeline seeing as the furthest ring is weird in terms of time and space

I was assuming that only Alpha Timeline deaths would be preserved by the Bubbles, but you're right - I'm not sure that was a reasonable assumption.

The Horrorterrors seem to eschew the concept of the Alpha Timeline. and, they've coordinated with both Doomed and Alpha versions of Rose and Dave. Plus, yeah, there is no time in the Ring, so timelines are probably meaningless there. Why would it only interface with the Alpha?

If the Bubbles do preserve doomed souls, then we might also run into the John who died to Typheus, and the Jade he couldn't save. That's a pair of ghosts I'd be very interested to meet.

Anonymous asked: If every Aradia comes back from every doomed timeline, the number would double each time, so you could get over a thousand of her with only ten doomed timelines.

Fair point- although, if an already doomed Aradia went back in time again, she'd be double doomed. Is that even possible? Would she die twice as quickly?

@mhafanlol2000 asked: Your issues with quirks and speech-to-text are pretty simple to explain. If a troll were to speak into a non-modified speech-to-text program, it would output text with their quirk. Because they, quite literally, speak in their quirk. Terezi probably isnt actually saying “YOU H4V3 LOST TH3 G4M3”, each number at a time, but the vibes are definitely there. I don’t know, this is hard to describe if you don’t inherently get it.

I think, jokes aside, it is indeed about the vibes.

In the troll intro pages, you get told a little about how each troll talks, and I think that's how we're supposed to translate their quirks to an audible medium.

Anonymous asked: i think ppl in the fandom have over time kinda built up a like, generally separate understanding of quadrants from how theyre described in the "official" explanation. which is like, not representative of how these terms are used in homestuck, but probably more useful for describing Good relationships that Do Not Suck. like basically making moirails equivalent to being queer platonic partners, making blackrom more about having a healthy fun rivalry, that kinda stuff.

It's funny, actually - I don't think I've encountered a single asker who accepts the quadrants as they're originally described.

The main issue is that, with the possible exception of matespritship, we haven't seen a single troll relationship with reflects the infodump's explanation of the quadrants. I think Hussie might just have jumped the gun a little when dropping it.

Anonymous asked: Shoutout to Karkat poking his friends in the background! Terezi (crying over Dave) and now Soloux (talking to Terezi). Karkat isn’t sure what the right response is but wants to be included! Reminds me of actual cats, just putting a paw on you for no discernible reason. @manorinthewoods asked: I'd like to note that Karkat poking Terezi's tears is the same sprite (and same 'poooke'!) as Karkat poking Sollux's burnt-out eyesockets. ~LOSS (12/6/24)

My man just likes poking.

@alicesoinions asked: not much to say just wanted to say I really enjoy your liveblog!!

Glad you're enjoying!

I've actually got a few new followers recently. Maybe I'm showing up in people's recommendations?

@heliotropopause asked: Dream bubbles are pretty neat, eh? Neat enough to inspire half of HtN, I'd bet.

…wait.

Oh my god, you're right. It's literally a River Bubble. They're both located in afterlives, for crying out loud!

Anonymous asked: Wanted to thank your liveblog for reminding me of a lot that I had flat out missed in canon, due to not putting it together or just reading too quickly. Most recently and notably on my mind right now, is that Feferi is the one who set up the dreambubbles!!! I had always thought that they were just a part of the world that readers didn’t know about yet, like how we weren’t yet introduced to Alternia and it’s moons until act 5. This went right over my head and it has me absolutely REELING (fishing pun included just for fef!!)

Feferi truly is the MVP.

I wonder what happened to dead Players before the Bubbles?

They're certainly not the only type of afterlife in the multiverse. Alternia has at least two types of undead, which implies that the Players are very, very lucky to have retained their personhood postmortem. Imagine this was what Feferi looked like in Jade's dream.

Anonymous asked: Knowing sollux, he probably already had coded his tech to recognize if his speech ever changed, and gave himself a different typing quirk for it, long ago. Not because he knew or thought it would happen, but because he thought it would be a fun coding project ((I know nothing about coding))

And yet, you somehow know exactly how we think.

Anonymous asked: Something I hadn’t really thought about, until I started reading this liveblog, is how much VRISKA ((autocorrect decided to caps that and I’m leaving it in lol)) was manipul8ted into a lot of her violence. Scratch pushed her towards vengeance against Aradia, and she didn’t want to go through with it. Did VRISKA ever tell anyone how much of her live she spent resisting these forces, or even really acknowledge it? She didn’t hide Spidermom, and arguably her need to kill other trolls was to prevent herself from being killed. BUT on the other hand, VRISKA voice would make it sound like a compliment “I almost didn’t kill you why don’t you appreciate me!!!!!!!!”

The thing is, VRISKA probably felt a lot of social pressure not to tell people she was coerced into her crimes. That would reveal that she was reluctant to kill, which is the opposite of what the Empire wants.

@manorinthewoods asked: You could have written a great Homestuck if you'd been Hussie. I think your style, if translated from reacting-to-comic to making-comic, would work great with what Homestuck is, and could have made a better product. I think you'd make a cerebral Homestuck, which would have been cool to read, except I would have botched reading it like I botched reading Homestuck in our Alpha Timeline. ~LOSS (11/6/24)

Thank you! I've tried to write before, actually, but whenever I reread my stories, they come off as esoteric, stilted and a little hard to follow. It's not an insurmountable problem, of course, and I really need to take a writing workshop at some point.

I'd love to make a webcomic, too, but my art also leaves a lot to be desired. I can adapt sprites just fine, but original drawings are hard, guys. Did anyone else know about this?

Anonymous asked: i counted just now, and only like 24 out of all 54 paradox space comics have zero spoilers. some of them are certainly more substantial than others (e.g. i counted ones that include jade’s consorts that you havent seen yet as spoilers) but a lot of them have Very Big Spoilers

It would have been awfully messy. I'm probably just going to read it once I've reached the Gigapause of 2013, and no longer need to worry about spoilers.

@bladekindeyewear asked: “Nepeta wasn't trying to pacify Equius, nor did she seem to be fulfilling any rigidly defined 'role' in his life. They just came off as very good friends, and their relationship was much better for it.” Well, maybe we ought to look at it through the lens of real relationships between friends? Once a healthy dynamic and boundaries are established, perhaps Moirails stabilize as long as they’re together.

That's a good way to interpret moirallegence - although, it does raise an issue with the quadrant that I'll be discussing on its own post, once I've finished the comp. There's no point in prehashing what I'm about to say, so I'll see you there!

Anonymous asked: karkats message didn't go through because of trollians narrative awareness feature, where it'll display something different in service of one of the several "all"-seeing entities, of which the reader is one <3 watsonian and doylist explanations are kissing with tongue

Since the fourth wall is an actual, physical piece of technology in this world, this isn't even that far-fetched!

@sashonya asked: So, as the session's timers continues to count down, what do you think will happen after The Scratch?

Beyond 'the session ends', it's difficult to say for sure. I think the two most likely possibilities are that the kids start exploring other sessions, or travel to a location completely outside the current scope of the comic. I am, of course, hoping for both.

@ericvilas asked: "I still believe that out of all the trolls, Karkat’s traits were featured the most prominently in humanity" yeah, I guess even humans aren't free from the effects of carcinization

CG: THERE IS ONLY ONE STEP. CG: AND IT IS ME.

[topazadine]

Extremely controversial writing opinions that will make you mad (but I'm going to say them anyway)

I don't know why but I am in the mood to be pilloried. Before I start, I will show you a picture of my dog so you realize I'm not a heartless monster.

Anyway, obviously this is just my opinion and you are perfectly free to disagree.

None of this is some hard-and-fast rule or even a universal truth.

It is just my opinion as someone who has 15 years of experience, has written about 2 million words, has an English degree, tutored dozens of students, etc etc etc.

Even if it seems like I am universalizing, I am not. Take what you like and leave the rest. Ignore it all if you want. That's your right.

Here we go. Please, don't throw your tomatoes until the end of the post. It distracts me.

Your first book probably sucks (with caveats).

Ideas are pointless if you don't do anything with them.

You are not a writer unless you consistently write.

Making moodboards, playlists, etc, before you have started the project is a form of procrastination.

No one cares about your idea as much as you do and never will.

Most people in your life will not care about your book.

A lot of peoples' opinions about writing are useless to you.

You need to develop healthy self-esteem if you want to be a good writer.

You also need to be humble and have a beginner's mindset forever.

Being mentally ill doesn't make you a better writer. It just means you're mentally ill.

Your real actual life matters more than your writing.

You will burn out if you don't have other hobbies.

Okay, okay, let's make you hate me.

Your first book probably sucks (with caveats).

If this is your first ever long project in writing, it is likely not going to be publishable (or, perhaps, even readable). It takes years, sometimes decades, to learn how to write well.

Do not think that because you have one singular idea and have slapped a book together that you can publish it to widespread acclaim. People who do this are deeply overestimating the quality of their work, seeing it through rose-tinted glasses.

One of my first long-form writing projects as sort of an adult was utter garbage. You can read it if you want; it's a BBC Sherlock fanfic. And it's fucking awful. I had written a lot of smaller things before this, but nothing to this scale. That much is quite obvious.

I'm grateful I started my journey writing fanfic, because otherwise I would have thought this was brilliant life-changing stuff.

In fact, I actually put together a copy of all my Sherlock fanfics called 11 Ways of Playing a Stradivarius that is probably floating around somewhere on the internet (though it got smacked down for copyright infringement eventually, because I was stupid). It sold absolutely zero copies, and rightly so. It's bad.

And that is okay. Shitty writing is par for the course when you are learning. It doesn't mean you'll never be good. It just means you're not there yet.

I have, to my great relief, improved immeasurably over the years, to the point where I have felt confident selling my work for real human money. You can purchase the culmination of that hard work right this instant, if you so choose. Should you do so, I am certain you will see exactly how much I've grown as a writer.

Ideas are pointless if you don't do anything with them.

I know I have said this before but I just need to drill it into your heads. Your idea means nothing unless you actually write the damn thing.

Millions of people have story ideas. Most of them will never do anything with those ideas. At best, they'll daydream about it but make up a billion excuses why they can't. At second-worst, they will badger actual writers to do the idea for them.

At worst worst, they will use AI to do it for them and call it a day. And we will all hate them for it.

You do not need to be protective of your idea or hide it, because someone has already thought of it and then made excuses as to why they can't be bothered to execute it. You have to be the one who doesn't fall into the trap and does the damn thing.

Look, I'll give you all the story ideas I have if you want. I don't care. In fact, I share them frequently and encourage others to give it a shot if they want to.

I'm not hiding any ideas because I know you will not do it exactly as I will. My voice is unique and it doesn't matter if there are dozens of people with the same idea: my story will be mine, and no one else's.

You are not a writer unless you consistently write.

This doesn't mean writing for five hours every day, or even doing 100 words every day. When I get to the tail end of the project, I tend to start slowing down because I have to think more critically about how to tie everything together. During the active drafting phase, I might do 2,000 words per day, but things ease up at the end, both because I'm sad that this phase is almost over and because I don't have much left to do.

But you don't get to call yourself a writer if you write like 100 words a month and spend the rest of the time doing moodboards and talking about your ideas. Whatever your rhythm, you need to stick with it and develop discipline, or you just have an idea and nothing else.

Making moodboards, playlists, etc, before you have started the project is a form of procrastination.

Note I said before you have really gotten into the meat of your project. Moodboards are a great way to promo your project and get peoples' attention, because visuals are more interesting than a wall of text. (That's why I start these kinds of posts with a picture.)

Oh, there's another one!

The thing is that a lot of would-be writers get trapped by the "oh this is research, this is plotting, this is giving me ideas, this is inspo." It's not. It's visual daydreaming and nothing more.

Any time that I have done a moodboard before starting a story, I give up on that story, because then I feel like I've done most of the work when I categorically have not. When I do moodboards once I get to the halfway point, I'm already in the home stretch and have no reason to stop. When I do a moodboard after I am already done and in the revision stage, then I'm good to go and building hype for my project.

Do not waste your time doing moodboards and playlists and visuals before you do the real stuff: worldbuilding, plotting, hammering out characterization. Get started before you start playing around with pretty pictures because it's not really getting you anywhere.

No one cares about your idea as much as you do and never will.

This is pretty self-explanatory so I won't expound too much. Your writing is the most important thing to you, but everyone else has their own stuff going on. If you're building hype with other writers, they have their own projects and are not going to be your free promotional team. They want your attention for their stuff, not yours.

Most people in your life will not really care about your book.

Again, everyone's got their own things going on. Also, most non-writers don't really understand how difficult it is to write a whole book. They are consumers and see the finished project; it's content to them. They care about you, to be sure, but your book doesn't really click as a big accomplishment because they're not familiar with the process.

You may notice, and seethe slightly, that relatively mundane things like weddings, graduations, and baby announcements will get WAY more attention than your book. A friend showing their ultrasound pic will get dozens of likes and comments and congratulations, while like 1 person will say "good job!" when you announce your book.

This is because these kinds of announcements are more relatable to the average person. They may have gotten married, or graduated, or had a baby (and of course probably know dozens of people who have) so they are aware of the challenges and joys.

Unless you are friends with exclusively other writers, your achievement is abstract, and your friends can't really sympathize. Your book is just a way to pass some time.

A lot of peoples' opinions about writing are useless to you.

I do not really like getting beta readers from places like r/betareaders because I have no idea how much that person actually knows about writing. Being able to visualize and suggest ways forward requires an understanding of the craft, but many people think that because they like to read, they know how to critique, when they are completely different skills.

Yes, unknowledgeable beta readers can give you a "man on the street" perspective of your book, but they tend to forget that beta readers are meant to help you fix your book as it is. Not turn it into something they personally would enjoy reading if they are not the target audience.

This requires recognizing audience and putting aside one's own preferences to focus on how the book would come across to an imagined ideal reader. Not everyone can do this. Actually, most people can't.

Some of the dumbest comments I've gotten about my work are from people who want to wrest control away from me and make it their preferred genre/plot/etc. These are useless suggestions.

Wonderful beta readers help to enhance your story, and they are golden. Instead of demanding you do something different, they offer their honest reactions of the work as it is and suggest opportunities to enrich the writing, tweak it, deepen the characterization, and so on.

Helpful beta readers are typically other writers regardless of their specific writing level. Newbie writers can be an excellent resource! And you're helping them, too: they will see your mistakes and know what not to do, and they can learn from your strengths. It's a positive experience all around.

Writers must come to understand what is good advice and what is not. Essentially, anyone who suggests things that are completely out of left field and totally unrelated to what you're trying to do is giving bad advice, and you should ignore them.

You need to develop healthy self-esteem if you want to be a good writer.

When you constantly put yourself down, complain about how bad your first draft is, say you have no idea what you're doing, and insist that no one will ever enjoy your work, guess what: you're right.

But you're right because you're essentially telling other people that your work sucks and they should not give it a chance. What you say about your writing will influence how readers interact with your work. You are priming them to dislike your writing and telling them what to think.

Imposter syndrome strikes all of us at times, but you need to push through it. One of the best ways to do so is to just continue writing. Keep going. Soon enough, you will develop experience, and experience will create confidence, and that confidence will shine through in your work.

When you consider saying something self-deprecating about your work, stop. You're going to make it come true.

You also need to be humble and have a beginner's mindset forever.

Doing so means understanding the difference between being self-deprecating and being humble.

Self-deprecation is when someone says your work is great and you immediately go "oh you're saying that to be nice, it's awful, I hate it."

Humility is when someone says your work is great and you go "Thank you!" and leave it at that.

You're not gloating or bragging by saying thank you, but you're also not cutting yourself off at the knees and making people uncomfortable by self-flagellating.

Honestly, the best thing you can ever say when you get a compliment about anything, including your writing, is just "thank you." Nothing else. Maybe an "I appreciate it" or "I'm glad you think so!" You don't need to go into detail.

But humility also means acknowledging that no matter how long you have been writing, there is always something you can do better. You will always be learning and making mistakes. Thinking you've peaked is when your writing gets stale and boring.

I have been learning rock climbing, and one of my favorite things to do is to watch pro climbers critique their own technique. They're not self-deprecating or saying they're horrible, but they're also not claiming they are perfect and can never do anything better.

Magnus Midtbø is incredible because even though he is a truly masterful climber, he posts a lot about his fails or when other climbers make him eat shit. This is an amazing video of him getting wrecked by an Olympic climber and taking it on the chin! He doesn't whine about how bad he is, he's just like "hmm, yeah, I can see where I screwed up, I'm so glad that I got to watch you climb, this is an honor."

That is the perfect blend of confidence and humility. He knows he can improve, but he doesn't deride his own skill. This is the mindset you need as a writer.

Being mentally ill doesn't make you a better writer. It just means you're mentally ill.

Anyone can be a good writer. Mental illness does not give you a super-secret advantage. It actually puts you at a disadvantage because your brain is expending so much energy staying stable that it does not have the same capacity as other people.

Fix your mental health issues instead of using them as a crutch or deluding yourself into believing they make you special. Like half of the population will develop some type of mental illness during their lifetime, and insisting that you need your mental illness to write is trapping you by making you not want to get help.

I have severe bipolar. This does not necessarily make me a great writer. In fact, it can make my writing suck ass if I am not stable. And no, you are not somehow exempt from having consequences for refusing to take care of your mental health. I promise you that you will be a better writer when you have sorted out your mental health issues.

Your real actual life matters more than your writing.

This is related to the above point. Your mental health, your stability, your social circle are all crucial elements of being a good, productive writer, and you can't ignore them in favor of suffering for your art.

The quality of my work has skyrocketed at two significant points in my life: once when I got out of a relationship that was hurting me and once when I ditched a toxic friend. The first one was when I started writing fanfic again, and the second was when I finally began The Eirenic Verses.

I would not have written 2 million words if I still had those nasty influences in my life, and I would not be living my best life. I likely never would have found my favorite hobbies and started going to therapy if I was still trapped in those negative cycles. Attending to my real-life problems both enhanced my writing and made me a better, more likeable, more functional person. I expect you will find the same thing.

You will burn out if you don't have other hobbies.

Hobbies. I cannot stress enough how important it is to have other hobbies that have nothing to do with writing. Yes, it means you have less time to write, but it also means that when you do sit down and write, you have better focus because you've fulfilled your other needs.

I picked up horseback riding again in February of this year and go once a week. I can't stress enough how good this has been for my writing and for my overall well-being. I have pretty bad agoraphobia, but since I started riding again, I have been less scared of leaving the house and less worried about what people think about me. My world has become larger and friendlier.

Now I'm doing rock climbing too. The physical and mental stimulation helps me focus better when I write, and I get way more done in less time. Plus, the quality of that writing is better because I'm getting more bloodflow into my brain and nourishing the tissues. There's also the fact that when I do have time to write, I'm not burned out and frustrated because all I've been doing all day is writing.

I look forward to my writing sessions more because they feel like a treat, and I have gotten a self-esteem boost by doing well in the gym. I am happier, calmer, and sleeping better due to the exercise.

Well-adjusted humans need social outlets, physical movement, a strong support network, good nutrition, and opportunities to relax. Our horrible capitalist system makes it very hard to balance all of these, but you must at least try.

Your hobbies don't need to be expensive. It can be something as simple as drawing, or going for a long nature walk, or learning origami, or buying a used camera and learning photography. Go to your local library and take a free course! Join a cheap gym and go a few times a week. Teach yourself something using YouTube. Buy secondhand equipment on Craigslist. There are so many affordable options.

Again, caring for your overall well-being is a true godsend when it comes to writing. Having something else to fulfill you will help you push through those hard days when nothing is coming to you, and it offers your brain a break from plotting, writing, revising, etc.

So that's it. If you read this to the very end, you're quite the gem; I know this was excruciatingly long. And mean.

Since you're here, maybe you will consider purchasing my debut novel, which was written by applying all these tips. (And not using AI - fuck off, NaNoWriMo.)

9 Years Yearning is a coming-of-age gay romance set in a fantasy world with poetry magic. It follows two young men as they grow from sorta-enemies, to frenemies, to friends, and finally to lovers.

If you do read it, please don't forget to leave a review!

Even if it's mean. Don't worry, I won't be mad. Reviews are essential to getting visibility on Amazon, so every single one is golden to me.