#just a little bit of venting on main what else is new

[car-bear]

i totally understand james potter and regulus black because i still long for that relationship i had at 15

everyone believes it meant nothing because we were young and it didn’t last as long as i would have wanted to but it still is and will probably always will be the deepest relationship i’ve ever had

no one has ever beaten the level of understanding we had, we were kids and didn’t understand love but it was all consuming it was everything, she was everything

and my chest gets tight and my heart still aches whenever i think about her and all the possibilities

we were young and we were scared but we were in love

[thelivingautomaton]

being married is fucking awesome. yesterday i was venting to my husband about a mutual friend of ours who i was annoyed with and he spent like twenty minutes just sitting there nodding and going "you're right, that guy IS being annoying" and generally reassuring me that i should be allowed to air my personal opinions/feelings/grievances. then once i'd worn myself out i was like. "ok rant over. you wanna watch some anime." and then we binged half of the first season of jujutsu kaisen

[deanstead]

Low Effort

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Requested: no

Summary: Y/N gets a surprise visit, which triggers some unpleasant symptoms

Word Count: 1k+

Tags/Warnings: mentions of stomach cramps, slight allusion to anxiety, negative emotions

A/N: Long time no see! This is a thing I needed to get off my chest and needed to get the emotions out, so it’s just some Jay comfort/fluff. Also, a warning that I haven’t written in so long, this kind of feels a bit meh, so I hope I haven’t lost too much of my writing touch LOL

JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST

You closed your laptop shut, just as your phone lit up with a notification about a new message from Jay.

Sorry, got held up. 10 minutes. Tops.

You smiled, typing a quick response of acknowledgment to tell him not to hurry before you got up, grabbing your bag. You were too fried to continue anything else so you figured you would just go and wait for him. Fresh air was better than whatever was coming through the office vents.

As the glass doors of the main entrance on the first floor slid open and you felt the chill of the Chicago winds hit your face, you sighed. Fresh air was definitely better.

“Y/N.”

You glanced up, your eyebrows naturally bunching together at the sound of a woman’s voice.

As your eyes met hers, you froze for a moment, your brain still processing the fact that she was here.

“Amy?” Her name slipped past your lips before you could stop yourself, even though the only emotion you were feeling at this moment was surprise. There was nothing positive or negative about it.

Amy could feel it in your voice as well. “Can we talk? I’ve missed you.”

You frowned as a cramp shot through your lower abdomen.

“I thought we were better friends than this. Low-maintenance, remember?” Amy said, and you could hear the tone in her voice, the one she used when she was upset or disappointed.

The feeling of indignation shot through you once again.

“Yeah, low maintenance, not low effort.”

Your voice was low but you didn’t let the emotion sway it. You spent years telling yourself that it was just a low-maintenance friendship, that you were both just busy, but you couldn’t ignore the way she’d reappear in front of you only when she needed your support, or when the guy she was seeing was out of town.

You glanced up at the street but hadn’t seen Jay’s car yet.

You exhaled. “Look, Amy. You have your priorities, I get it. Just don’t expect me to drop mine when you blow back into town or when your boyfriend doesn’t have time for you. It doesn’t work that way.”

You felt the cramps intensify and knew what it was. You called it “emotional cramps” with Jay, joking that as long as he kept you happy you’d be fine. Yet, here they were again. Maybe it was because you hadn’t had them in a while, you felt them more intensely now.

You put a hand on your stomach as you looked up at Amy. As expected, she had an indignant look on her face.

“How could you say that, Y/N? I know the fact that I was seeing Trevor was a sore spot with you because you weren’t seeing anyone so I didn’t want to make things harder for you. But now…”

You couldn't even respond as the pain ripped through you once again and you bent forward slightly, your knees buckling a little. You braced yourself for the impact of your knees hitting the concrete sidewalk when you felt his arms around you.

“Babe, what’s wrong?”

Jay.

Amy seemed stunned for a moment before she spoke again, “It must be her…”

“Why’s it acting up?” Jay asked, his entire focus on you as you glanced up at him and quietly shook your head.

Jay glanced up at Amy. They didn’t know each other since you’d met Jay sometime after contact between you and Amy had dwindled to almost nothing. By the time you and Jay had started dating, you’d made up your mind to let go of Amy and this friendship, and it had merely nagged at you a little at the back of your mind from time to time so you hadn’t brought her up.

“Come on, we’re going to Med,” Jay said quietly, pulling you upright.

You glanced at him. “Don’t you dare carry me,” You warned.

Despite the worried look in his eyes, Jay smiled. “We’re going to Will.” He repeated, almost like he was daring you to argue.

You didn’t argue. Partly because all you wanted to do was get out of there but partly because you knew it was useless. Besides, the pain was more intense than you remembered.

Without a second glance back, Jay helped you into the car and drove off, both of you leaving Amy still standing on the sidewalk.

You knew what had triggered the attack, so after getting medication for the pain and cramping, you’d been feeling much better.

“You know I’d be feeling even better if you would stop hovering, Detective.” You said, directing the comment at your boyfriend.

Will smiled as he tapped on the iPad in his hand and glanced at his brother. “She’s fine. Her tests are normal, and it was probably just a one-off stress-related attack.”

You nodded. “I’ll follow up with my therapist, I promise.”

Will ruffled your hair affectionately and you growled because he knew you hated it.

“I’ll get the discharge started.”

Jay was quiet as he leaned over you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, before you glanced back down.

“Amy’s an old friend.” You said, after a while. "At least, she was."

Jay didn’t say anything, so you continued, telling him about how Amy was when she started dating anyone, and it only progressively got worse. “And it’s not about seeing her often, you know? It’s just…”

Jay nodded. “You didn’t feel like she cared.”

You sighed quietly. “I just… it got to a point where I realized she didn’t care. I was a friend when she needed me, and when she didn’t, I just… didn’t exist. And apparently, to her, that’s me being sore.”

Jay just took your hand in his, gently stroking your fingers.

“But I just realized it was better to have no one than to be treated that way, so I just…”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” Jay said quietly. “Listen, someone who gives you low effort doesn’t deserve you. I don’t care who they are. Anyone who makes you feel this way doesn’t deserve even one percent of you.”

You looked up at him and smiled, a little sadness hidden behind it.

“I guess seeing her today just brought it all back, you know? And then it triggered all those emotions and then my stomach cramps decided to join the party.” You made a face.

Jay smiled quietly back at you. “But you know what? You’re not alone. At least not anymore.”

You smiled and leaned forward for a hug. Jay perched by the edge of the bed, pulling you gently into his arms and you buried your face into his shoulders, feeling his arms encircle your entire body.

“I know.” You whispered.

Jay kissed the top of your head. “Good.”

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

If you want to support me, buy me a coffee!

[alizalayne]

Whats the ventilation and heat like in the suit head? I can't tell if it would be warmer or more cool to wear in compaison to a faux fur fursuit head. The only thing I worry abt is how durable needlefelting is and if it can be cleaned like a traditional fursuit head. That being said I really hope you continue making these, they're cool as hell 👍🔥👍

Okay first of all I'm super jazzed to be able to talk about this with people, and I kind of went overboard answering this, but thanks for asking! Putting this up in case anyone else is curious.

The main answers to your questions are 1: wool is cooler than acrylic fur and less stinky

2: A fursuit head is a swamp and i am snorkling in it.

I mentioned this in my behind the scenes post and there are pictures there but I literally just made a snorkel out of a snorkel mouthpiece and two collapsible automotive funnels, the kind that you can bend into a shape so that you can get goo into a weird part of your car.

that snorkel piece goes straight out of a vent hole in the inside of the ear and I felted a pink skin flap in front of it and then felted white fiber into that so it just looked like a tuft. it worked perfectly, it's just that I couldn't talk in it that well. But I'm definitely going to keep using it if I can't think of a better mouthpiece for it because as SOON as I breathed inside the head instead of through the snorkel I was like oh my god everyone is living in hell.

You can see it in this picture a little bit. nobody noticed it at all!

My friend had made a much more traditional head with a bigass electric fan in it and he was having more heat issues than I was, because I cannot stress enough that acrylic fur is like, one of the most horrifically hot fabrics you can wear. I don't know how everybody is even alive!! and there's a layer of ACRYLIC BACKING on it! Also check out how "short-pile" my fur is, most of the head is only an inch thick, it's a half-inch bucket head made out of foam covered in maybe 1/3 of an inch of wool? the less space you have between the fibers the less heat gets trapped. I was shocked by how comfortable I was, and I was having migraine symptoms that day and was extra sensitive to heat. The con where we were had the air turned down and it was chilly outside, but I was shocked when I took the head off and shook my hair out and I wasn't even sweating. I had long hair in a wig cap under that thing and I wasn't sweating. It was crazy.

As for cleaning the wool, I cannot find anyone else who has done this who has cleaning tips for me, but the foam is what I'm worried about. After a few hours of wear there's nothing wrong with the wool at all, but i can TELL the foam is ever so slightly nasty, because the foam is polyurethane and wool is what you make hiking socks out of. I have some wool cleaner coming in the mail that's made for delicate needlefelted items like scarves and deposits lanolin, which is what keeps wool "alive" kind of like how you have to care for leather. It's definitely an experiment! Nothing ventured nothing gained!

I don't have an idea in mind for a second head right now and the next thing I want to make is a cowl so I can wear lower-cut tops with this head, but I might try something else if I think of an idea! I'm probably never gonna sell these because I'm weird about selling sculptures for whatever reason. They're like my living beasts.

But I definitely hope this encourages other people who might be interested in bringing needlefelt or other fiber art sensibilities to this space, that would be a massive complement and a high honor to give people a new way to enjoy a hobby that I know means a ton to a lot of people.

[theflowerrooms]

To Request • Miguel’s Masterlist • Main Masterlist

Running Red

Miguel O’Hara x spider-person!reader (gender neutral)

Summary; Miguel was a fair leader and a fair lover, never did he blend the two titles, never had he taken his anger from work on you, until now.

wordcount: 1.8k

Warnings: angst, arguing, Miguel is a bit aggressive, insults, hurt/comfort, very slight ATSV spoilers

Miguel had three different modes. The silent, brooding kind, seemingly displeased at all moments. That was his default mode, the one most everyone saw, the one most often associated with his name. And then there was his stressed mode, where he would rant, and rant. A loud string of blurred Spanglish that was intelligible to anyone but himself as he paced back and forth anxiously. That wasn’t seen by too many, mostly yourself, Jess and sometimes Peter. Finally, there was the gentle touches that would lead to more, soft smiles and sweet words. Intimate kisses, goosebumps, and whispered ‘I love you’s’. That was reserved for you

This was new, whatever this was. Silent for a while, and then loud venting, eyes glowing scarlet, slight lisping because he was so angry he couldn’t retract his fangs. It wasn’t like you didn’t understand, he was carrying the entire world on his shoulders. But then again, that wasn’t something you could ever fully understand. You’d been by Miguel’s side for nearly all of it, but you’d never been in his place.

“Miguel, baby, please try to calm down-” “No!” He snapped loudly, cutting you off faster than you could process it. That only made it worse. Miguel was a pessimist, and you were a mediator. You’d defended Gwen- and Miles, every chance you could. You didn’t think they were entirely in the wrong.

You reached a hand out to him and he only jerked away from it, that felt like a blow to the chest. He was acting like you were against him, like you were the opposing force and you weren’t, it was stressing you out.

You sighed and chewed your lip. “None of this is Gwen’s fault, you know this.” You pulled your arms closer to body, making yourself seem smaller, but still not backing down from the conversation-turned-argument.

He dragged a palm down his face and turned slightly to look away from you. “I was an idiot. I took a chance on her. I was an idiot for taking a chance on her.” He growled, fingers twitching at his sides.

“You took a chance on all of us- You took a chance on me-” your voice shook slightly and he cut you off quickly. “I wouldn’t have if I’d known you would turn out like this, so stupid.” He spat, voice laced with venom and resentment.

Your arms dropped to your sides and your lip wobbled. You wanted to yell and fight, you wanted to be angry. But you were only sad, hurt, more insecure than you’d ever been in front of Miguel.

The features of his face, aged with stress, softened just slightly, his tense shoulders sloped as he realized what he’d said, how it affected you.

The image of your partner in front of you blurred as your eyes welled with tears. He had yet to say anything else and you weren’t going to stand there and wait, so you turned on your heel. You wouldn’t let him see you cry.

He watched you walk away and you could feel his eyes on your back. Part of you was grateful he didn’t put up a fight against you walking away but a bigger part of you wished he’d apologized immediately, or begged you to stay there with him and explain that he didn’t really think you’re stupid. He watched you walk away instead. Did he really think you were stupid?

✽-

You had no interest in staying in his universe, and your own universe wasn’t quite an option. That’s how you found yourself sitting on the floor of Mayday’s nursery in Peter’s world. She squished her little head against yours, wild hair tickling your cheeks which were soft from crying. ‘Baby-love. Cures all types of sad.’ Peter had said. You had to admit he wasn’t all that wrong.

“Do you feel like talkin’ yet? Or…” Peter offered, leaning against the doorframe with two cups of coffee in his hands.

You smiled weakly. “Thank you for letting me borrow your baby.” You squeezed Mayday in a gentle hug. He took it as permission to hand you a coffee and sit on the floor with you, which you were entirely fine with.

It was quiet for a bit. You sipped your coffee and pulled your knees to your chest as Peter’s baby clumsily made her way over to him. He stared at you, his eyes kind and inviting. “Peter we’ve known each other for a good while, worked together a ton. Have you ever thought of me as stupid?” Your voice wavered toward the end of the question.

Peter tilted his head and furrowed his eyebrows. “Of course not. Why would you even ask that? It’s been an honour to fight alongside you. You’re so intelligent, you’re a wonderful teammate and a wonderful person. You’re far from stupid. I mean- Obviously. Miguel wouldn’t give you that much responsibility if he thought you were stupid.” He laughed softly, but the mood shifted and his demanour had entirely changed. He must've sense of change in your expression when he said Miguel's name. "Did Miguel say something to make you think that? Did he call you stupid?" He looked mad, and although it rose your anxiety, you knew none of it was directed at you.

“He said he wouldn’t have taken a chance on me if he’d known I turned out this way. ‘So stupid’ he said. I’m not sure if he meant taking a chance on me was stupid or I’m stupid but-”

“Either way.” Peter cut you off, finishing your sentence. He shook his head. “He shouldn’t have said that, Miguel doesn’t think you’re stupid.” He scoffed and you only shrugged. “Don’t let what he said make you think that. He doesn’t think you’re stupid- and even if he does, you aren’t. Understand?” He rose his eyebrows and you nodded with a sympathetic smile. While you loved Peter, and valued his opinion, you weren’t worried about what he thought right now. Miguel’s words were replaying in your head.

‘I wouldn’t have if I’d known you would turn out like this, so stupid.’

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

✽-

You’d spend the night at Peter and MJ’s that night, in their world. Alone in their guest bed rather than wrapped safely in Miguel’s arms like you were used to.

You were mostly over it now, having gone over everything in your head again and again, with each word Miguel said repeating in your mind. You’d mentally given him a million excuses, just desperate to be over it so you could forgive him and then everything would be fine.

Of course you had yet to forgive him, and nothing was fine. You weren’t sure if you could sleep in a bed so cold and lonely.

“Amor?” Miguel’s voice startled you and you scrambled, sitting up in the bed. You hadn’t heard or sensed him anywhere nearby. Did Peter let him in? “Can we talk? Please?” He spoke monotone, straight faced. This was the cold, emotionless Miguel that others were used to seeing. For a moment you worried he was still angry with you, that this front was to hide emotions he was feeling because he was about to break up with you- for being so stupid. Though, would he have addressed you that way if that was the case?

You nodded and chewed your lip. “We can talk.” You wanted to return the straight, monotone voice he'd given you, but you stumbled over your words. You wondered if your eyes were still puffy from crying- and that's when you noticed his were too. He’d clearly been crying. You’d never seen Miguel cry before, you were witnessing entirely new parts of him today.

He sat on the side of the bed and rested a large palm on your shin through the blanket. “I am so- I shouldn’t have- I’m so sorry. I do not think you’re stupid.” He kept eye contact with you. It was important to him that you understood how serious this was to him. “I didn’t mean to say it like that. I’m so grateful to have you by my side- and I- you’re not stupid-”

“Miguel- I’m not mad at you, you have so much on your plate, it’s okay-”

“It is not. I should not have said that to you- I didn’t mean to say it like that. I don’t think you’re stupid, I think I have been stupid, I could have prevented all this and I didn’t.” His voice shook. He was showing you insecurity and vulnerability; two things he’d made you feel already. You appreciated what he was doing for you right now and you understood how hard it was for Miguel to give himself to you like this.

You moved to your knees and took his face in your hands, smoothing your thumb over the worry lines between his eyebrows. “It’s not your job to save the world Miguel. I think it’s incredible that you’ve made it your job, but still it doesn’t have to be. You haven’t done anything wrong, and you haven’t been stupid.” You pouted slightly and let him kiss the pout off of you. One kiss releasing all the tension and stress from you both.

You rested your forehead against his and then two of you stayed like that for a while; breathing each other in, basking in the closeness. “You really don’t think I’m stupid?” You asked, the corner of your mouth quirking up into a smirk.

“No, no, lo siento carino, lo siento- te amo, mucho mucho mucho-” He rambled in a tone similar to baby-talk, peppering kisses all over your face until you were giggling and pushing his big head away.

“Te amo! I love you too!” You laughed, leaning against him. “Don’t ever speak to me like that again.” You still had a soft smile on your face, but you were being serious and he knew.

A kiss to the top of your head “Never.” He replied. You hummed, head against his chest and palm against his lean torso.

“Good. Because if you do, I’ll turn evil and start causing problems by tearing holes in all kinds of universes. And Jess and Peter won’t help you stop me because they think I’m cooler than you.” You joked and he fake laughed.

Gently, with faux annoyance, he pushed you away from him. “Is there anything I can do now to persuade you not to do that in the future?” He inquired, leaning toward you.

“Hold me?”

You weren’t doomed to sleep in the cold, desolate bed all on your own anymore. Gifted with Miguel’s arm thrown over your body and holding you tightly, he pressed his nose lightly into your hair and his heart beating against your back. You hoped Peter wouldn’t mind Miguel having a surprise sleepover.

He didn’t mind at all.

[levithestripper]

Misc. Peeta Mellark Headcanons

warnings: fluff, gender-neutral reader.

length: 1k || read on ao3 || join my taglist

notes: just a lil something to help me get back into the swing of things after not writing for a while! hope you enjoy ’em, even though it’s a bit short.

Never hesitates to give you his jacket or sweater if he sees you’re cold. He pretends not to notice that the clothes he gives you never return to his closet.

When he kisses you, he always cups your face in his hands, thumbs stroking your cheekbones.

You had no idea just how much one person could bake before you met him. It seems like you get a new baked good every other day. Cupcakes, themed cakes, loaves of sourdough bread, muffins, pasta, you name it, and it’s probably on his list to bake for you.

Peeta loves teaching you how to draw/paint!! He’ll sit outside with you on a nice day and walk you through how to draw a frog or something else simple. By sunset, both papers are filled edge to edge with stick frogs, flowers, hearts, and sad-looking deer. Peeta dates both sheets and leaves cute little notes next to some of your drawings for you to find later.

Most of his own paintings are of you. Some are posed, and some are candid. The candid ones are Peeta’s favorite. You get his favorite portrait framed as a birthday present, and he nearly cries when he opens it. Before you could ask if he liked it, he kissed you, then kissed all over your face, where you both erupted with giggles.

This boy is so stupidly adorable it has to be some form of disease. You’ll catch him sitting across from you with a lovesick smile, his blond hair illuminated by the setting sun he loves so much. You tease him about it, making him blush, which only makes him all the cuter.

At the start of your relationship, Peeta had little self-worth/confidence in himself. He didn’t have much to offer you in terms of money or pretty clothes, but he soon realized you didn’t care about any of that. You like him for him, not for what you could gain from him.

If he’s forced to pick just one thing, Peeta’s favorite part about your body is your hands. Why’re they his favorite? Because that’s one of the main ways you show your love for him. Holding his hands, cupping his face, cooking meals, smoothing them across his chest, that kinda stuff.

He would hug you all day, every day, if he could. This man is a hugger to beat all huggers.

Peeta wants to start a family with you, whatever that family ends up looking like. Just you, him, and a few pets? A-okay with him. A child or two? Count him in! As long as Peeta gets to spend the rest of his life with you, he’s happy, no matter what it looks like.

Definitely uses pet names like “honey,” “sweetheart,” and “my love.”

This man never not has a smile on his face. You’ll catch him staring at you from his seat in the living room with the stupidest, lovesick grin spread across his features as he watches you do whatever it is you’re doing.

When Peeta plans on proposing, he organizes an entire day of fun activities for both of you. He knows exactly how he wants to propose: in a gazebo, hidden by the blanket of night, illuminated only by the mood lighting he set up the day before. But it never ends up happening. The two of you were dancing in the living room to your record player, nose to nose, pressed so close to one another he couldn’t tell where he ended and where you began. As he swayed, Peeta whispered, “will you marry me?” It wasn’t what he had planned, but the outcome was exactly what he had hoped.

He’s not the biggest partaker of PDA, but he’s not averse to it. He’ll hold your hand, kiss your cheek, that kinda stuff, but he won’t make it obvious or rub it in other people’s faces.

Peeta’s very hard to anger, so he’s great to vent to. He’ll always be up for listening to your problems and helping you fix them if that’s what you want. If you just need someone to listen and not try to resolve whatever you’re upset about, he’s perfect for that too.

Peeta starts a garden full of your favorite flowers. Once they grow tall and bloom, he picks them to make a bouquet for you.

At night, he has to be touching you in some way or form to be able to fall asleep. Holding hands, you sleeping on his chest, spooning, you name it. He needs to know you’re still there so he can allow himself to relax enough.

Peeta gets up before you, so he loves to wake you up with kisses. Rapid fire against your cheeks, forehead, nose, the palm of your hand, up your arm, basically anywhere he can reach.

When it comes to Valentine’s Day (objectively his favorite day, minus your anniversary), he surprises you with breakfast in bed and fresh homemade muffins. There are fresh-cut roses in a new vase on the dining room table, and the entire house is deep-cleaned from top to bottom. Lunch is a picnic under an old weeping willow tree, followed by cloud gazing. He cooked you your favorite meal, making enough for leftovers. Later, he gifts you a portrait he painted of you in secret. It showed you, facing away from the viewer, sitting on the porch swing, watching the sun set below the rolling hills of District 12. When it’s time for dinner, Peeta cooks a classic romantic meal: spaghetti with meatballs by candlelight. The day was the definition of perfect; everything he surprised you with made you fall in love with him all over again.

Throughout Valentine’s Day, Peeta kisses you almost every chance he can get. You look too damn beautiful not to kiss. You don’t look any different than yesterday, and you won’t look any different in the days to come, but none of that matters to him. Your beauty never fails to floor him, and today was no exception.

[sweetspidergirl]

A Tangled Web (Spider HRT Story)

Chapter 1

“This is stupid. Why am I doing this?”

This question echoed in my head as I sat in the sterile waiting room of the doctor's office, accompanied by the sound of the clock ticking away in the background. Besides me and the receptionist behind the counter, there was no one else in the room. That made sense. With it being a few days before Christmas, who would willingly want to spend any amount of that time in such a depressing location?

A twenty-five year old woman dissatisfied with her life and seeking a new one, apparently.

As I sat there waiting for permission to see the doctor, my mind drifted back to how I got here. It was half a year ago where I first vented frustration over my life to my best friend Elisa, and she mentioned how I might be going through species dysphoria. She then sent me some articles and links and suggested I look into humanity removal therapy, or HRT.

I had been vaguely aware of humanity removal therapy, often referred to as therian HRT, for a few months by that point. It functioned mostly like hormone replacement therapy, only it would gradually change the patient into a human/animal hybrid, or therian. It was a recent development, only having been available to the public for a little over five years, and still had quite a bit of controversy associated with it from various political groups. Despite that, based on the testimonials I read and the various pictures I saw, the people who have gone through therian HRT seemed to be happier now than they ever had as humans. Maybe it would be worth it if I gave the whole thing a shot. Maybe being in another body might help me be happy again.

I glanced down at the blank screen of my phone, looking over myself in annoyance. I noted the long, messy brown hair that I barely made look presentable. I noted the pale skin caused by a lack of social interaction and preferring the light of a screen over the sun. I noted the oval-shaped glasses and casual hoodie and sweatpants that hid as much of me as possible. I was another drop of water in the ocean that was humanity. Even my blue eyes, once bright and full of hope, had started to appear dim and non-descript as of late.

“Taylor Thompson?”

I snapped out of my thoughts as the doctor called my name. Turning my head in his direction, I got a good look at the man who would be deciding my future. He was an older gentleman, probably in his 50s or 60s, with a grey receding hairline and mustache. His thick, round glasses made it hard for me to see his eyes. Grabbing my belongings, I quietly followed the doctor as he guided me to his office. The office was what I expected to see: a small, plain white room with a desk, degrees on the wall, and bookshelves full of books that I would be too dumb to properly understand. On the desk was a small nameplate that read “Dr. T. H. Erian, Species Dysphoria Specialist” in large, clean letters. I set my bag beside me and took my seat, my heart beating like a drum in my chest. I swallowed the lump of anxiety that was forming in my throat. There was no turning back now.

“So, Miss Thompson, what brings you here today?” Dr. Erian asked in a stern voice. One sentence in and I was already having flashbacks to my high school principal. The main difference here, however, was that my answers actually mattered for more than avoiding detention.

“I, um, was hoping to be prescribed therian HRT. Specifically spider HRT.” I answered, trying to remain calm and collected.

“I see… and why a spider, if I may ask?” The doctor questioned as he began writing something on a piece of paper in front of him.

“Well, I think spiders are a lot like me. Most people are scared of them, but in reality they’re mostly just nervous, adorable little beans.” I explained with a bit of blush on my face.

“Any preferred species of spiders?”

“I was hoping to be a tarantula. They're cute and fluffy, and I think I'd look just as good as one.”

“May I ask why you wish to undergo humanity removal therapy?”

I took a deep breath and exhaled. “I've been unhappy with myself lately. My diet's been awful, I rarely go outside and interact, and in general I just hate everything about myself. My best friend, Elisa Andrews, thinks I might be going through species dysphoria. She works with therians and otherkin daily, so I assume she's right.” I explained to Dr. Erian. I then handed him a folder that contained the paperwork Elisa told me I'd need before being prescribed therian HRT: a medical examination, two psychological evaluations, written support from her and my father. I even spiced the folder up with doodles of webs and cartoon spiders in hopes that it would help my case.

Dr. Erian looked through the paperwork I gave him. I was unable to get a good idea of what he was thinking. His flat, emotionless voice was hard to read, and thanks to those glasses I couldn't tell whether he was impressed by work or annoyed at me wasting his time. I was hoping it was the former.

“Miss Thompson, before we continue, I'd like to ask an important question.” Dr. Erian spoke as he set the folder down in front of him on the desk. “How much do you know about therians?”

“How much do I know?” I asked curiously. “I mean, my best friend’s a physical therapist that works with therians, and I'm kinda aware of some of the legislature that's been passed recently-”

“That's not what I am referring to.” Dr. Erian interrupted. “I want to know if you understand what therians go through, what the process of going through humanity removal therapy is like and how you'll have to adapt. You are aware that I recommend patients spend some time living as their desired species before I prescribe them HRT, correct?”

“I-I mean… if it helps I have a few spider plushies.” I said sheepishly. I could already feel my luck running out.

Dr. Erian sighed and gently rubbed at his forehead before speaking again. “Miss Thompson, this is a serious life-changing procedure. Once you start therian HRT, your DNA will be rewritten to match your chosen species. You'll never be human again, even if you stop early into your therapy. I cannot prescribe it to just anyone who steps foot into my office.”

I sunk into my seat slightly, bringing my knees just under my chin as I almost curled up to feel safe and protected. “B-but… I was told you can help people with this kind of stuff.”

“I can, and I do. However, not everyone needs HRT. What you may think is species dysphoria could very well just be depression, and what you may need is something far simpler than a complete genetic rewrite.” The doctor explained.

I sat there in silence, barely listening to the doctor's words. He was saying so much when it all boiled down to one word: “no.” No, I couldn't get humanity removal treatment. No, I couldn't have happiness. No, I was doomed to hate myself for the rest of my miserable life. Tears started to creep their way out of my eyes, stinging slightly as they worked their way down my cheeks.

Just as I was about ready to give up and head home, I glanced up and noticed Dr. Erian looking through my papers once more. I was expecting him to scold me again. I hid my face against my knees and closed my eyes, bracing myself for his harsh words to wound my heart further.

“...are you sure becoming a tarantula will make you happy?”

I slowly brought my eyes up to look at Dr. Erian, not fully emerging from my self-made cocoon as I processed his question. What was making him change his mind? Did he believe that I'm suffering from species dysphoria after all, or was he simply taking pity on me? Regardless of the answer, I couldn't let this opportunity slip by my fingers.

“Y-yes… yes it will, doctor.” I responded, almost forcing myself to do so. A tense silence hung in the air for what felt like hours as Dr. Erian stared at me, almost examining me. I gripped the sides of my legs, waiting anxiously for either him to continue lecturing me or for me to have the courage to speak again.

“Well, if that is your answer, then I will approve you for tarantula HRT.” Dr. Erian said, writing on the piece of paper some more. “Considering it's the holiday season, it's likely your pharmacy won't receive your first dosage until after the new year, though.”

My heart almost skipped a beat at the news. I was… actually going to be a tarantula?! “Wait, really? You're… approving me for the HRT?” I asked, nearly jumping out of my seat. “Oh thank you Doc! Thank you very, very much!”

Dr. Erian sighed, writing some more information down on the paper. “As I explained, transitioning to a different species won't be easy. There will be some side effects to expect as your body changes.” He explained, making sure I had calmed down a bit before he continued. “Not all therians will experience the same side effects. Not all side effects will be present at once. Some will show up at different stages of your transition. At the earliest stages of spider HRT, I would primarily expect to see itchy skin as your hair grows in, as well as weight gain to provide material for your additional body parts to develop. Beyond that, you may experience headaches, nausea, dizziness, fatigue, and possible body pain.”

After making sure I understood the side effects I might encounter during my transition, Dr. Erian started digging through a drawer in his desk, and from there pulled out two items. The first was a pamphlet that had “Welcome to your Humanity Removal Therapy” written on the cover, alongside “Species: Spider” and a minimalist illustration of him. “This pamphlet will help guide you through your transition, Miss Thompson. It provides details on a recommended meal plan, the type of environment you should live in, a rough timeline of what changes you should expect and when you should expect them, a full list of potential side effects, and more.” The doctor explained. “I would make sure to give this a thorough read if I were you. I'll also be sending you a digital copy after our meeting. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me and I will provide an answer at the earliest convenience.”

I took the pamphlet in my hands, almost crushing it in excitement. “Of course Doc. I'll definitely give it a read once I get home.”

Just as I was about to get up and leave, Dr. Erian cleared his throat. “There is one other thing I must discuss with you before we conclude here, Miss Thompson.” He said, causing me to sit back down in my seat. “I still disapprove of you not doing any research on therian culture prior to our meeting. So… I'd like for you to interact with other therians while you're taking HRT. It's not mandatory, but I do feel it will not only help you learn about your new lifestyle but also potentially help with your mood.”

As Dr. Erian said that, he handed another item. I took it in my hands and looked it over. Instead of another pamphlet, it was a flyer detailing a therian support group that was close to where I lived. It detailed that it was bi-weekly, and that it was open to those on HRT, regardless of stage, as well as those questioning.

“I'll keep that all in mind. Thank you so much for all of this, Doc.” I said, stuffing the papers in my bag. After discussing insurance and other important information to get my prescription set in stone, I left the office and gave a heavy exhale as soon as I was outside. That was probably the most stressful talk I've ever had, but it was done and over with. While I stood outside and caught my breath, my phone started buzzing. Pulling it out, I saw that I was getting a call from Elisa.

“So, how'd it go?” Elisa asked, sounding exceedingly curious. Looking at the time on my phone, I hadn't realized she had just finished with work by the time I finished my meeting.

“Well, I managed to get the prescription, so that's good. You didn't tell me he was gonna be so scary though.” I answered back with a tiny bit of irritation in my voice.

“Hey I never met the guy personally. Besides, you still got the HRT in the end, so it all worked out.” Elisa answered back. “So how long before you start spinning webs and crawling up walls?”

“Well, my first dosage won't arrive until after the new year. Beyond that, well…” I trailed off a bit, glancing back at my bag and the papers inside of it. “I have some homework to do.”

---

NEXT:

Welcome everyone! This is the start of a (hopefully) long-term project I intend to work on. This is the story of Taylor Thompson, a 25-year-old woman seeking a change in life through humanity removal therapy. In the process of transitioning from human to spider, she'll learn more about the world of therians, as well as learn more about herself and what she wants out of life.

I want to thank @ayviedoesthings, @welldrawnfish, @entroart, @bubbleverseart, @nyxisart, @prettiestplatypus, @deadeyedfae, @kaylasartwork, and anyone else I may have forgotten (there's a lot of people I'm so sorry ><) for creating the world of therian HRT and creating such a community, as well as my fiancé for showing them to me and for inspiring me to give my own version a try. I can't say when the second chapter will be done, so just keep your eyes open, and I hope you all will join me on this long, wild ride.

Thank you so much in advance.

[lover-of-mine]

so I saw your earlier post about how Tommy is getting Ali’ed, and I wanted to ask about who you think is the most developed and likeable out of Buck’s love interests? (except Eddie ofc, he’s the best and I can feel it in my bones that he will become endgame.) I’m still in s3, so I’m kinda a new watcher you could say. (I’ve read too many tumblr spoilers and copius amounts of fanfics though, so I’m able to keep up with and watch season 8 live).

I wanted to ask this because I’ve seen so much Tommy hype and promotion on here that I really thought that he was developed as a character and a main. But from what I’ve heard, he’s only worse than Buck’s and Eddie’s actually developed love interests. Before I actually started watching the show, I’ve only heard bits and pieces here and there about 911 and the “gay” firefighters, but that’s about it. I only started watching seriously during season 7, and I’m a pretty slow binge-watcher (hence why I’m only 3x12 lmao). When I went back to season 1, I fully expected to see Tommy (bc honestly, I thought Tommy and Eddie were the same person for a while lmaooo), but then I got to season 2 and saw the begin episodes and I was like wtf? How do people actually like this man? Eddie is literally RIGHT there. Even if Eddie wasn’t endgame or a romantic interest, he’s still a better compliment to Buck platonically than Tommy is romantically. So then I thought “oh maybe he had a redemption arc or like changed for the better like Buck did,” but from what I’ve seen on s8 and on here, it seemed like he didn’t? So that only makes me more confused on why a majority of the fandom seems to love his character. Personally, I don’t really see anything, but I guess everyone has their own opinions 🤷🏻 . Though, I’m scared that I’m basing this on too little info and I missed something because I haven’t watch seasons 4–7.

(this got so long I’m so sorry. it kinda ran away from me a little bit 🫡. Lowkey needed to vent my thoughts)

Hi, darling! I'm gonna ignore Abby, because in the context of season 1, Buck is her love interest, not the other way around, since she is the main character. So most developed is hands down Taylor. Ali was barely there, and Natalia didn't fulfill what they wanted to do with her since the actress couldn't come back to s7. Likable is complicated because Ali and Natalia aren't around enough for you to get attached and, Taylor and Tommy have a past of hurting the 118, so it's hard to be sympathetic at times. Taylor gets a lot of background information, they live together, even though the relationship is clearly wrong, both of them are trying to make it work as best as they can, so it makes sense for Taylor to be around. She tries to love Buck as best as she can, it's just not enough, they are incompatible. And, well, Tommy. Imma be honest, the only thing Tommy has going for him is the fact that he is a man. The bt fandom took that and ran. Basically, they decided that since he is a man and a first responder that meant that the relationship would be super developed and they built it UP based on nothing really (actually based on Lou having a cameo and people paying him to headcanon with them, but that's a whole another you just had to be there), not on the show at least. I don't believe he had a redemption arc, the show kinda makes it seem like being queer excuses his behavior and just doesn't address it. In my opinion, when I try my best to be unbiased and ignore the way I deeply hate the character because of the fandom, I think Tommy is pointedly being written as a bad fit in Buck's life and the relationship will run its course once Buck wakes up and stop just accepting whatever.

And if you think Eddie is the better compliment to Buck and you're still in 312, just wait, they get more intense. It's madness. They are soulmates, I don't care about anything else.

[crow-hoards-things]

The Bad Batch Series Finale

FULL DISCLOSURE: This is a vent post. I’m angry and hurt. After I get this out of my system I’ll be more open to discussing the positives of the episode.

Warnings: Ranting, Spoilers

Hooo boy. Okay. I am… less than satisfied?

Quick rundown since I haven’t posted much of anything Bad Batch related: Tech is my favorite Batch member, immediately followed by Crosshair. I’m also a HUGE Republic Commando Nerd (read all the books, played the game, despised Bad Batch as a whole initially because I felt the commandos were being unfairly ignored, can sing + translate Vode An, etc.) and Scorch was my favorite Delta. The Bad Batch grew on me shortly after Season 1 finished up, and I immediately latched onto Tech when I began watching. He’s the reason I watched the first two seasons. (Crosshair + delusions about Tech were the combined force behind watching the final season)

NOW, onto my actual thoughts on the episode, in no semblance of order because my brain is still trying to process, Ft. Cry count:

• Wish Tech was here. He would’ve loved the Zillo being freed.

• “‘Cause I’d do the same thing” no you wouldn’t. Fives would’ve. The you I fell in love with would’ve yelled at Fives about it being a terrible idea and then promptly gone along with it anyway. That said it was a really cute moment and I loved his nonchalant little “come on” afterwards.

• C: “Echo or Omega?” W&H: “Omega” THEY KNOW THEIR GIRL SO WELL

• When Hemlock went to get the operatives I got excited thinking maybe, just maybe we’d get Tech back.

• CROSSHAIR LOST HIS FREAKING HAND!?!? WHAT THE HECK!?! I will never stop being salty about this. He’s been through enough. [Near Tears]

• Rampart sucks

• Nala Se got to blow stuff up and I appreciate that even if I don’t really like her

• I’m glad Wrecker’s okay. He had me scared for a bit. Hunter, conversely, never really did? He’s Omega’s Dad, he had to survive.

• Did anybody else see that one operative whose helmet seemingly had goggles built into it? We had a lingering shot on his helmet for a few seconds and they looked like a red version of Tech’s goggles.

• SCORCH IS DEAD AND YOU’D BETTER BELIEVE I’M MAD ABOUT IT! [First shedding of tears]

• HECK YEAH, HEMLOCK IS DEAD!!! [Tears of relief combined with grief over Scorch]

• I’m so glad Omega hugged Crosshair first. I fully expected her to just run to Hunter, and Crosshair needed that hug.

• Echo’s goodbye was disrespectful. 0/10. He’s family and they don’t even care that he’s leaving???

• SOMEONE IS MISSING FROM OUR NICE LITTLE GROUP SHOT!

• I never really got super invested in the dynamic between Omega and Hunter, but the ending between them was cute I guess.

• We were robbed. We could’ve gotten Crosshair and Wrecker as old men and we were robbed.

• Tech is dead. Like, seriously, really and truly, dead. As a delusional “Tech’s alive guys, trust me” fan, it feels like he just died all over again. I’ll talk more about this later because I’m not over it. [Que sob-fest]

alright, circling back around to my main gripes, in order of appearance:

#1. Scorch.

I hate how they handled him. At first when he showed up I got super excited. That was my boy! In the Bad Batch show!! He’s making an appearance!!! Maybe they’ll do something with the Delta boys!!

Even as the episodes went on and I started to suspect where his path was leading, I consistently would go “Scorch!!! <3” every episode, because that is my boy and I love him dearly.

The levels of offended I am on Scorch’s behalf are not within my ability to express with words. The complete and utter disrespect he was shown over his time on the show is appalling. Why bring him in if you’re going to drain him of all his personality, make him have zero plot relevance, and then murder him?! They could easily have made a new clone for that, as seen by the number of operatives who exist and got 0.5 minutes of screen time.

But no. They brought in a beloved character with 10 seconds of canonical screen time prior, stripped him of everything that made him lovable, didn’t even have him DO ANYTHING, and then murdered him. It feels like a spit in the face and a kick to the gut all at once.

I will mourn. I’ve already cried and I’ll probably cry again. But right now I’m angry and I think Scorch deserves to have people be angry about how he was treated.

#2. Tech

Yes. I admit to having been a “trust me guys, Tech’s alive” person. I will also admit that at the end of episode 13 I wanted him to stay dead because I had zero faith they could satisfactorily bring him back.

My gripe is not with him staying dead. Yes, it feels like losing him all over again. Yes, I will mourn him again. Yes. That sucks. It’s not what’s making me mad.

What makes me mad is how his death was handled.

• It served ZERO purpose narratively other than to up the stakes and make us worry about whether anyone else would die (Spoiler alert: They didn’t. Tech was the only one who died) • Nobody mourned him. No one seemed affected by his death at all. No one cared. I don’t care what anyone says, that will NEVER be okay. • The first actual mention of Tech *dying* was in the finale. Sure, we’ve had name drops and goggle appearances, but actually talking about what happened? One line. One. Freaking. Line.

I feel like I’ve been slapped in the face, you know? He deserved better and so did we. He was a part of that family and they couldn’t even be bothered to address the responses to his death. He was beloved by many of us and they couldn’t even respect him or his fans enough to treat his death like something to be mourned.

That’s wrong, no matter how you look at it.

[onlyymirknows]

What are your headcanons for Reiner coping with Bertholdt’s death? Do you think he actually has the time to grieve during the timeskip or is it only post-Rumbling that he allows himself to fully embrace what happened?

Hello! Thanks for the ask, this is my first on this blog 💖

I think he theoretically has the time to grieve Bertholdt during the time skip but I don’t think he actually does. Reiner’s main methods of dealing with emotional stress are repression and distraction. He basically ignores his problems by occupying his mind with something else.

And Reiner is presented with a really compelling distraction when he returns to Marley:

Fighting for his life and reputation in a brand new war is the perfect distraction from what happened on Paradis. Not just the presumed deaths of Bertholdt and Annie but also his immense guilt over the things he did.

I think the fact that he resorts to suicide the moment he’s confronted with the idea of going back to Paradis is a good indication of how little he’s processed his emotions.

That said, he doesn’t react strongly when people mention Bertholdt which tells me that he’s accepted it factually. But in my head, Reiner hasn’t bothered to confront the emotional reality of the loss (among a ton of other things) because he’s got his finish line.

In addition to that, there’s nobody for him to talk to about Bertholdt in Marley. Everyone back home only knew 11 y/o Bert, not the 16 y/o he developed into. Reiner also can’t admit to the fact that the two experienced a big shift in their worldview together (eg- island devils don’t exist.)

So it wouldn’t be until after the Rumbling that he has to contend with a lot of his unresolved trauma, including the grief of losing his best friend. (And potentially his love interest/boyfriend depending on who you ask.)

Best case scenario is his friends/family proactively encourage his healing and don’t let him run away. Worst case scenario, he goes full distraction mode (my HC is workaholism) and won’t admit there’s a problem until he falls apart.

Some talk about my relevant long fic below the cut

My fic is gonna be about the worst case scenario because I want to dig into the emotional aspects of his character. Namely his unresolved grief, childhood emotional trauma, and queerness.

Plus I want to write about how trauma feels, having been on my own healing journey. It’s kind of a vent fic that spun out into a full narrative that I really need to write an outline for lol.

It’s gotten a bit complicated with multiple POV’s/plot threads so I’m taking my time. I watched a video recently talking about the pitfalls of serialized fiction. I’d like to avoid some of the bigger ones, namely putting in scenes/details with no narrative purpose.

Not everything needs to be Chekov’s gun but I’m sure you know how it is 🤭 so an outline is gonna help a lot. But I feel pretty good about the main story beats! I could talk about my fic a lot more but I’ll leave it here.

[caw4brandon]

The City of Durarara!!

Imagine, you are a newbie who just got an opportunity to attend a new school in a new city. A fresh start in a new chapter of your life but, you are still the same old you.

There are no familiar faces here. You just showed up via the bus or the train, carrying your heavy suitcase. Stumbling about and trying your best to follow the flow of the crowd to your new home. You live in an age where yes, you have a phone to check everything but the place is much more complex than you thought.

Hence, you are very, very, lost.

That is Mikado Ryūgamine's first day in the bustling city of Ikebukuro and the subject for today. The show famously known to have 15 (give or take) main characters co-existing in a space. Developing their own stories while another story unfolds in the back.

- I Love Humans! -

< Durarara!!/ DRRR!! > by Ryōgo Narita; Follows a cast of ordinary characters who reside in Ikebukuro. A lively city known for its nightlife and as a hub for all things Otaku-related. The city is currently a home for our main character; Mikado who just moved in and is about to attend a new school with his childhood best friend; Masaomi Kida.

Elsewhere, we follow a mysterious and non-verbal biker lady who just rescued Rio Kamichika from a kidnapping. Taking her to a secluded building rooftop to "end things".

Somewhere else, Shizuo Heiwajima is throwing a fit at a random man who owes him money. Causing a scene by throwing a venting machine into the sky. Scaring the pedestrians. This, is < DRRR > in just a few minutes. A large mix of events happening all at once at separate parts of the city.

As Kida guides Mikado, he provides some exposition of what's been going on in Ikebukuro. Mentioning that there has been a new gang in town right after the city survived another previously. Kida runs into some of his friends; Kyouhei Kadota, Walker Yumasaki, Erika Karisawa, and Saburo Togusa.

Meanwhile, Rio got to the roof and encountered her online friend; Nakura whom she contacted to make a suicide pact. But it was revealed that her kidnaping was a ploy by Izaya Orihara who wanted nothing more but to mess with her. Rounding up, Kida and Mikado witnessed a famous city urban legend. The mysterious biker lady called; The Headless Rider.

-We are...Dollars! -

Several key pieces are driving the plot for < Durarara > forward. Firstly, we have the everyday life of Kida and Mikado. School students in Raira Academy with their new best friend; Anri Sonohara who has secrets of her own.

Next, we have the questionable love story of the Headless Rider; Celty Sturluson. An odd-job transporter with her partner; Shinra Kishitani an underground doctor. Both are on a quest to find Celty's missing head.

Then, we have the ongoing gang wars that Kida mentioned. Since a new gang; The Dollars started showing up. The further we follow our characters, the deeper the relations go to the point where you need a chart for who is who. Yet, the show is rather comprehensive.

< DRRR > is actually a story about no one and everyone. It takes place in a location where everyone has a story. No matter if you are interested in the gang war, a twisted love story between certain characters or the simpleton life of the Van gang.

Perhaps you like a good ole beatdown action, or maybe. You like something a little bit supernatural regarding several slasher cases. There is something for everyone and while some of the parts may not interest you as much. The threads eventually cross paths. Leading to a big Crescendo~

- The World isn't as Cruel -

One of the most consistent themes seen in all of < Durarara > is the theme of making connections. As the audience, we get to see the characters being much closer than they make it out to be.

In a chatgroup. The characters take on differing identities and exchange information to help one another. Not realizing that they chatted about it a while ago. Perhaps the most encouraging thing about the show is how it uses the word "gang".

To join a gang often comes from a desire to find a sense of belonging. As mentioned, The Dollars are a new gang but the peculiar fact is, they are a colourless and leaderless gang. Sure, factions among them can exist. But no one has the power to control each other. Anyways, the gang is often seen to have done both good and bad to their respective communities.

Ikebukuro is crowded with countless activities going on in the light and in the dark. How our characters react to it determines the outcome. Despite the show has already declared itself as ended.

I personally think it's not a definitive end. Because the ending is not the point. < Durarara > is a show about people and how people deal with complex situations in their daily lives both personally and externally as a community. Perhaps its also a good display of how we are more interested the lives of someone else rather than our own.

To wrap this up, I just want to say that this show displayed the true power of an online community. It's a stroke of genius on the power we have as a collective to make change to our communities. That is what < Durarara > is about!

[musicalmoritz]

On average how long does it take you to write a fic? I see you post pretty often on ao3 so I was just wondering if you had any tips to write faster? you make it seem so effortless lol/pos

I must confess, I’ve been procrastinating on finishing a fic for a few weeks now…nonetheless I do have some tips!

So the brutal truth here is that when I really want to get something written I don’t sleep LMAO. Usually I’ll stay up until 4:00 AM writing, but I haven’t been able to do that lately because I’ve been trying to prioritize a healthy sleep schedule. It’s better to start writing early so you don’t stay up half the night, that can actually make things more difficult as after a certain hour your brain will just shut off (at least that’s what happens for me)

The length it takes me to write a fic depends on the type of fic, if it’s 3-4K I can usually knock it out in a day or two, unless I’ve been putting it off. If it’s 9-12k it takes me a couple of days, though I have written fics that length in one sitting before. Again, I do crazy work between the hours of 8:00 PM and 4:00 AM. If it’s anything near 20k it usually takes me a few months, especially if I have a lot going on irl at the time. My longest fic was 52k and I pretty much wrote that through the winter. Right now I’m working on one that’s meant to end at around 15k and I already have 12k of it written, but I ramble so it might come out a bit longer

Okay now onto actual productive tips. In my experience, the best way to write a lot is literally just to spill all your thoughts onto the page. Yap like your life depends on it. If I’m writing the character experiencing something I have a lot of opinions on, I’ll spend several paragraphs just talking about that. Some of my best and longest fics come from me straight up venting into a Google Doc. It’s like a diary except no one can tell how much is the character’s pov and how much is me working out my own problems. If you think you ranted too much, you can always go back and delete some later

It’s also good to try and always be writing. One of my Mitsukou fics was written almost entirely between breaks at work. I bring my computer with me if I’m going somewhere over night. I’ll write while I’m waiting for a class to start, and in between classes- especially if I have a long break. I write a paragraph or two on the toilet sometimes. And also be thinking about the characters a lot, I’m hyperfixated on tbhk rn so these little losers are always on my mind; so when I sit down to write, I’ve already written most of the fic in my head. Share your own headcanons and analysis, people love reading that stuff. Don’t be afraid to get creative and take a few liberties, most readers are subconsciously longing for new things in their fics

Also don’t stress yourself out too much about what you post! Fanfic is best when it’s written for your own enjoyment above anyone else’s. Sometimes I get too caught up in what other people will think of my fics and forget I have total control over everything I write. If you worry too much about making your work “perfect,” you’ll never want to write. Make yourself your main target audience, it makes the process way more fun

I hope some of this helped you!! Thank you for your ask, this gave me the motivation to work on my wip. I’m also currently writing fics for every day of Aoinene Week so it’s been busy. A good fic playlist also helps, it helps you better envision the world you’re writing. Recently I’ve been basing my fics off specific music artists which gets me really invested. Happy writing :)

[duhnova]

misconception of love - chwe vernon

vernon x gn!reader

word count: ~2.1k

warning(s): fluff, academic rivals?, e2l (kind of), vernon is called an idiot but not in a malicious way, it’s just light hearted banter and competition(?), let me know if i forgot anything!

hi @rasparagus! it’s your secret santa ❄️! i hope that this story meets your expectations 🥺 - i had fun writing it and getting to know you a little bit! ^-^ if you ever want to talk more my dm’s are always open (or were in the svthub so we can talk on discord!). <3

“you’re in my seat.” your eye twitches a little as you look up at vernon, who’s standing off to your left. 

“it’s college, chwe, there’s no assigned seating.” you grumble before going back to writing in your planner. 

“yeah but that seat has the best view of the board and it’s far enough from the speakers that it doesn’t hurt my ears and the vent is close but far enough that it’s not unbearable.” he rambled.

“you’re unbearable,” you sigh before setting your pen down. “just sit somewhere else for today, it won’t kill you.”

“but what if it does? then you’ll have that weighing on your shoulders for the rest of your life.”

“i already have my student debt weighing me down, you’re gonna have to try harder than that to get me to move.” you crossed your arms in amusement as you watched him shift from foot to foot. 

“but-“ before he could argue anymore the professor turned her mic on, the static through the microphone signaling the start of the class. 

“good morning everyone,” she smiles at the class, everyone shuffles to find their seat leaving vernon the only one standing. “mr. chwe would you mind taking your seat please.” 

“yes, sorry ma’am.” he sits in the seat next to you, his knee knocking yours causing you to freeze.

“what are you doing?” you hiss at him quietly as the professor introduces the topic for today's lecture. 

“i’m trying to learn, what does it look like?” he hisses back as he flips his laptop open, his fingers tapping away at the keyboard as he starts a new section of notes.

“no i mean.. what’re you doing sitting here?” 

“the professor told me to sit, so i did. pay more attention and you would know that.” you frown and bite your tongue to keep from biting back as you scribble notes into your notebook. 

“how can you read that?” he peers over your shoulder, frowning at the cursive on your page. 

“are you saying my handwriting is ugly?” you look up at him and have to hold back a laugh as he stutters, his eyes going wide. 

“what? no no no, i just mean that i can’t read cursive.” his face heats up a little in embarrassment. “not that i’m stupid or anything i just never bothered to learn.” 

“i don’t think you’re stupid.” your eyes return to your page as you try and not to think too deeply about the fact that you inadvertently complimented his intelligence. 

“oh? if i didn’t know any better i’d think you’d just complimented me.” he smirks. 

“you’re right, you don’t know any better. now pay attention.” his smirk falls as he grumbles to himself, returning to typing at his keyboard. 

—

since that day, vernon has always made it a point to show up to class early to make sure he gets his seat. it was stupid, and funny really how he’d be sitting there all smug and you hated to admit that he looked cute even when he had two different shoes on and he forgot a beanie so his bed hair was very much on display. 

“you’re an idiot, you know that?” you shake your head trying to hide your smile as you plop down in the seat next to him. despite your constant bickering you’ve taken up to sitting together - you found you quite enjoyed having him close (and his presence wasn’t as annoying as you liked to make it out to be). 

“and you’re in love with me.” he doesn’t bat an eye as he continues to stare at his laptop screen intensely. 

“i’m sorry, what?” you stared at him flabbergasted, a million thoughts ran through your head but the main one was ‘how did he know?’.

“what? i thought we were stating the impossible?” he finally tilted his head to look at you with a grin. 

“idiot!” you yell as you smack his arm, an embarrassed blush on your face as you shuffle to grab your bag so you could move seats. he was rubbing his arm when a look of panic crossed his face. 

“hey wait, where are you going?” he grabs your wrist before you could fully stand up. 

“going to sit somewhere else.” you didn’t want to look at him. you knew it was stupid but over the past couple of weeks you figured out why you looked forward to every class despite having to wake up at the ass crack of dawn. 

“is it because of what i said?” he was staring at you with a worried frown on his face. he was trying to tilt his head so he could see yours but you were determined to stare at the clock in the corner of the room.

“no, why would it be about what you said?” 

“you’re a horrible liar, you know that.”

“and how would you know that?” you turn around to stare at him, incredulous. he was grinning at you, knowing he got you to finally look at him. “i hate you.” you huff when you realized what he had done. 

“no you don’t.”  he hums to himself as he turns back to sit normally. 

“and how do you know that?” you side eyed him as you pull out your planner to write out the dates and lesson plan on the board. 

“because you wouldn’t be sitting here right now.” 

“what if i’m just trying to gain your trust so i can finally take you out?” 

“like on a date? cause if so i’m free at 4.”

“you’re unbelievable.”

“and you’re cute, especially when you’re irritated at me.” he’s biting his lip as he suppresses a smile. 

“wha-“ the professor had impeccable timing as she turns her mic on, cutting your sentence off. 

you couldn’t stop thinking about what vernon said, his words kept replaying and distracting you from the lecture - leaving your notes half written. 

towards the end of the lecture a little torn piece of paper lands on your desk, startling you from your daydreams about going on an actual date with vernon. 

‘what’s your email?’ you frown and look at vernon who’s typing furiously at his laptop, making sure he got everything the professor said. 

‘why?’ you hand it back and try to pay attention to the professor but you can’t.

‘so i can hack your computer’ you roll your eyes but decide to give it to him anyways, what’s the worst that could happen? he actually does hack your computer? 

when class ends vernon packs his laptop away into his backpack and instead of leaving instantly like he always does he waits by the door for you. 

“so, what’s your next class?” he asks as he falls into step with you as you leave the building where all the literature classes reside. 

“why do you care?” you hold the trap of your tote bag tightly, trying not to pay attention to how close he was to you. 

“well i’m gonna figure it out eventually.” he shrugs as he continues to walk with you.

“what are you doing?” you stop in your tracks to turn and look at him. 

“walking you to your next class?” he looks at you like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“but why? you’ve never walked me to class before.” 

“isn’t that what boyfriends do? they walk their partners to class,” he reaches to grab your hand and tug you down the sidewalk. “now, what’s your next class and when does it start?” you just let him drag you as you stare at him dumbfounded. 

“boyfriend?” you whispered confused as you fell in to step with him again. 

“yeah,” he tilts his head at you, it’s a habit you noticed he had and you couldn’t help but think he looked like an adorable puppy. “isn’t that how that works?”

“how what works?” 

“you said you wanted to take me out, so i told you 4.” he looked at you like it was obvious. 

“no vernon,” you sighed, all the puzzle pieces started to click into place. “i meant i was gonna take you out like, i was gonna strangle you or something.” 

“oh,” his face exploded into an embarrassed blush as he looks ahead of him again. “i thought it was going to be like one of those romance movies where you finally asked me out and we started dating.”

“that’s.. not how the real world works vernon.” you sigh quietly. “you actually have to state that you want the other person to be your partner.” 

“oh.. we’ll then do you wanna be my partner?” he looked at you so hopeful. 

“who even said i liked you?” his expression fell and you actually felt bad. 

“i thought all the banter was you liking me? y’know, like in the movies.” he stops, his eyes looking at the ground dejectedly. 

“you need to stop watching so many romance movies, it’s not good for your perception of the real world.” you reach up to ruffle his already messy hair. “but i do like you idiot, i was just being hard.” 

“wait, really? you’re not messing with me right?” he looks at you with wide eyes. 

“i’m not messing with you,” it was your turn to blush as you tried so hard to keep eye contact so he knew you were being serious. “i like you vernon.” 

“great!” he smiles wide. “i like you too, obviously..” he laughs quietly. “now that we have that out of the way, let’s get you to class.”

“not that i don’t like the idea of you walking me to class don’t you have one to get too?” you squeeze his hand after realizing your fingers were still locked together. 

“not until one.” he looks at his watch. “i still have thirty minutes.” 

“wait it’s twelve thirty?” your eyes widen.

“yeah?”

“my class has started already!” you yell before booking it down the sidewalk dragging vernon with you who stumbles over his feet. 

the two of you are out of breath after running halfway across campus in about five minutes. you took a second to catch your breath, you didn’t want to draw any more attention to yourself then you already where going to when you walked in. 

“give me.. your phone.” vernon pants out as he reaches the hand that wasn’t on his knee out. 

“why?” you still hand it to him before he could answer. just as quickly as he started typing on the screen he was handing it back.

“my number, i already texted myself.” he smiles before standing up straight. “text me when you’re out of class.” 

“i get out of this class at three.”

“ew.” his face scrunches up in disgust. 

“i know,”  you giggle quietly. “i’ll see you after class?” 

“see you after class.” he smiles at you, and he can’t help but watch you run up the stairs of the math building - his eyes full of hearts and stars. 

—

while you sat through the lecture your phone buzzed quietly with a text message. you were already board and tired of this class so you picked up your phone, smiling when you saw that it was vernon.

‘how does cheeseburgers at 4 sound?’ 

‘i have to study for a test tomorrow.’

‘so i’ll bring the cheeseburgers to you and we can go out for celebratory milkshakes tomorrow at 4’

‘celebrate what?’

‘you acing the exam?’

‘how do you know i’ll ace it?’

‘i’m sorry… how long have i been fighting you for the number one spot in lit this semester? i know you’ll ace it.’

‘i’m gonna smack you’

‘what? why?’

‘because you’re too fucking cute.’

‘aw :) you’re cute too.’

you couldn’t help but smile at the texts, he was going to be the death of you and you were seriously thinking of smacking him for being so cute. just as you were getting back into the groove of the lecture you got another notification, this time from your email. 

‘i noticed you weren’t really writing during lecture today so i tried to get everything down, sorry if they don’t make sense or if there’s anything missing :) -vernon’ 

now you were thinking of kissing him for being so considerate (and cute). 

‘i hate you <3’ you emailed him back, and almost instantly you got a frowning face back which caused you to giggle. you could imagine the look on his face right now as he just stares flabbergasted at his laptop in the middle of the food court where you know he’s sitting right now waiting for his next class.

[problematicfactive]

New intro Post

New intro post! How exciting! This is my celebration for reaching 25 followers so fast! Thank you all for your overwhelming support in this journey, it really has been a lot.

If you're new here, my boyfriend and I are both introjected from extremely problematic medias revolving around a very bad person that lived in real life. We are both from fictional medias, bit the person of which we introjected is very much real, and We've gotten a LOT of shit for it.

Spaces that claim to be safe spaces for systems-- or God forbid, safe spaces for *problematic* introjects and alters, tend to be rude or spiteful towards individuals who are factives from problematic sources.

I firmly believe this hateful stance comes from a place of not understanding, so I've created this blog to give people who don't understand a chance to talk and speak to us without losing their cool as we also stay anonymous on this blog. They're always nice until they find out who you are /hj . Since it's creation, the blog has since turned into a big place for problematic factives to just feel safe and seen. I'm beyond happy about this, and glad my blog can serve both purposes. More under the cut!

We post a lot of everything!

We answer asks from people who have questions about us or about being problematic factives, we make positivity posts for problematic factives, problematic factive culture is... posts, and lots of other things you could think of. Feel free to vent in our askbox or message us for a chat! We'd love to have a friend.

Some things off the top of my head that I can't do on this blog (but if you end up making a blog for these things and need a mod, totally hmu!)

Stimboards/Moodboards etc. - I would literally love to do these but the problem is I know like nothing about anyone. Of you were to ask me for a Donald Trump moodboard I honestly do not know what I would do my mind would just blank. That being said, in decently good at making them so if there were a person I knew well enough to do a stimboard on, I definitely could

Icon edits - This is somthing I'm capable of doing, but it isn't something where I would want this entire blog to just turn into requests. If you're making a blog specifically for these creative requests things totally hmu

Art - I cannot draw but my hope is that that changes in the future.

-

Meet us!

My last intro post didn't really have any information on us as people let's try and fix that.

I can't tell you my name, but you can call me Anxiety. I'm the main mod and significantly less source connected/more source ashamed. I go by he/Anxiety with Anxiety being able to work in place of either a name or a pronoun. Unless the host is helping out with something, anything that isn't labeled comes from me. I'm the only one out of the two of us with the physical ability to type so when he posts something, it's a little special occasion and deserves a label.

My boyfriend doesn't have a name option other than a source one. On the blog he has only been referred to as my boyfriend, but if you need a name for him, call him NPC. He uses he/him pronouns and will sign off any post that he thinks up all on his own with -NPC and tagged with # npc posts

Tagging

Here is some of the tagging we use on this blog

# problematic factive culture = Problematic factive culture is.. posts

# kindness and positivity = Kind and Positive asks we've received

# good thoughtful questions = Good questions we received as asks

# positivity post = Positivity posts

# problematicfactive blog things = things that ate moreso related to one of the mods or running the blog than they are about problematic factives

# rainy day drafts = drafts that could be super old because I made them and them left them in the drafts so I could post when I don't have anything else to post

# queued because I am asleep 😊 / queued because hopefully I'm sleeping = posts that I queue to be 5-ish hours away from the last post. I often post somthing at 12 am Eastern Time regardless of the last something was posted, so those early morning positivity posts tend to also be queued with the tag

If you come across us and like what we do, consider boosting or realigning this post! I'd love for as many people to find out we exist as possible

# askers experience = Asks sent in where an asker tells me about their life

# npc posts = posts my npc wrote as a mod on this blog (does not apply to posts where "my boyfriend's answer" is me paraphrasing or trying to speak for him)

[29daffodils]

allow me to vent for a little bit but how does the concept of "pete's only last ditch attempt at happiness would be if vegas had stayed dead" or "pete would never realistically choose vegas" or "pete was tortured and he is probably experiencing stockholm syndrome" or anything along those lines keeps circling back into the fandom every 3 months??

is it because of the new fans? something else? or is it because there are people who genuinely believe pete would never choose vegas if given a chance?

this is slowly going into long meta territory but i'd like to remind people that for everyone else — vegas included — they had different choices for partners/significant others. kinn had tawan for a second time, porsche had vegas and vegas had porsche and/or tawan, but pete? he only had vegas. this man would have chosen the fucked up piece of shit vegas was (and i admit he is, he is a mafia man, what are we expecting?) despite everything, and he actually did.

look, pete would have chosen vegas in every universe, and if he hadn't, he probably wouldn't have chosen anyone, and we all know how pre-vegas pete was.

in his own words, "if you're hurting over it, it means it is important". and vegas became important from the moment pete saw him being slapped by gun. he became more important after the whole torture-bandage-bonding moment, and even more after pete left and still wanted his hands around his own throat. that even at the very end, he chose to save him, that given his loyalty to the main family, he shot and killed the person who attempted to kill vegas.

if you firmly believe this man wouldn't have chosen vegas, i would just say if you've got the very core of pete's character wrong.

(and look, will i deny that the tragic death sequence that tore our hearts out was then followed by a tiny little post credit extra that gave us all emotional whiplash? no. we suffered, babe.

but if you think poetic justice works every time, no it doesn't. the same way killing off a complex character like vegas would be considered lazy writing, in the same manner the post credits extra "hey we've gotta keep him alive for the audience or the rating will fall" was lazy writing. kpts as a whole could have done a lot of things that good story telling demands, the pace had always been a bit here and there, but it was still good. so i don't really get the whole concept of just hate-watching something or worse, tagging that with the ship.)

(also, why are we still debating whether what is acceptable in fiction can be applied to real life or not, it's about to be 2024 please i beg 😭)

anyway, that's all for today. thanks for coming to my ted talk.

[qqchurch]

Series where I can do whatever to my heart's contents in it's setting will always stick by me because of the sheer potential of what you can do

Log Horizon's plot is probably locked in at this point, even if the publishers will likely never release another volume, but the things you can write about what's happening anywhere else is practically endless.

Theldesia has the entirety of Elder Tales' online population at the moment of the May Incident/Catastrophe/World Fraction, we're talking maybe millions of players now stranded in another world in bodies not their own and reality itself trying to find a middle ground between the rules of the game and that of Earth.

You could have stories about homesickness or settling in a new life. Dysphoria or euphoria over becoming their player characters. Shifting moralities when the concept of permanent death is trivialized. Collective trauma and the community that forms to alleviate that.

Take, for instance, that one small blurb about someone in the American server discovering the Real World Preparation Method for food and the ensuing chaos in the city that leads to the formation of mafia-like organizations duking it out in Not!New York. The focus could be on the toxic relationship between two hitwomen that just can't help killing each other and finding the way their swords lock with another electrifying.

Or maybe, looking elsewhere, how a literal farming bot that gained sapience could develop a close relationship with her programmer, the examination between her intended programming and emerging behavior leaving mixed but uplifting feelings that could bloom into more.

A closeted trans woman, early into her transition but not coming out yet, suddenly finding herself at her end goal by pure happenstance and rekindling a relationship with her roommate who was patiently waiting for her to feel like herself to be together again.

A heavy roleplayer that's a little bit too into a certain NPC, suddenly finding out that she's alive and could return her affections, only to realize the yawning gap between their perception of reality.

An avid solo player doing her best bloodknight impression and slaughtering her way through a mob village to vent, only to stop short once she sees the fear in a survivor's eyes. Does she go further? Does she take the survivor in to repent?

A knight finding herself between the political machinations of the NPC royalty and her ties to Earth and the Adventurers, only that she's being seduced really hard by the princess that caught a fancy to her.

... I'm just making up most of these on the spot because Theldesia seems to be a fun place to explore, Apocalypse notwithstanding, and a lot of it is intentionally left unsaid because the main plot understandably focuses on Shiroe and Co.

That said, I guess one huge downside is that most of your possible acquaintances are going to be fellow gamers so common stereotypes might be present, even if you take into account that Elder Tale was likely as popular as FFXIV and would be more diverse in personality as a result.

(also all the prompts were yuri plots on purpose (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠))