#just needed to write it out

[arsnof]

My dad is screaming and howling at the other end of the house from phantom leg pains and there is absolutely nothing I can do but sit here and listen

[lghtyear]

i am angy today which is fun

i’m weirdly emotional about past friendships , and missing people . and i’m angry about it because i know i did everything i could to maintain that friendship bit i still always feel like i haven’t done enough . i understand people have fixations but it SUCKS on here when you’re trying your best to maintain a friendship that’s dying because someone else has a new fixation that doesn’t involve you . because i’ll bend over backwards to try and get myself involved but it never seems to work out that way . so anyway , i’m angry because i feel like i don’t do enough and i should be kinder to myself , because it probably would have happened anyway

[insomniac-dormouse]

In the fics it’s kind of sweet and soft seeing 2012 Leo all protective and nurturing and shit, but actually watching in the show as Leo walks a line between brotherly and parental is kind of sickening actually. Parentification sucks, and although the narrative doesn’t acknowledge it’s an issue, it’s cool to see Leo’s position being (sort of) presented as bad

[lgcxnoeul]

fisheye lens

He had stepped out with an ingredient list written by his mother, adorned with crucial information in between the lines. From aisle numbers to brands to avoid, his mother's writing was neat and linear, but he could tell with the deeper ink displayed in certain areas of the paper, which items she felt too strongly about. His mother's attention to detail always impressed him. Perhaps, he had inherited that trait from her, but his older brother had, unsurprisingly, managed to surpass him ten-fold, which had blocked him from never realizing it until now.

It wasn't jealousy, or sibling rivalry. His parents never compared him to his older brother. It was clear that there was no overlap when it came to the two of them besides their mutual adoration for each other. In fact, their younger sister was proof that their parents had impressively raised three completely different individuals. He knew that his older brother wouldn't have received additional information on the shopping list, but his relationship with his mother was special, or at least, that was what he chose to believe.

He had felt lighter when he began his journey to the market, but currently, his feet felt heavier on his way back and the rare emotionally-defeated posture was a tell-tale sign that he didn't feel like himself. His shopping list had been discarded into the bin and in its place, he held a crumpled letter from his university requesting information about his transition from student to whatever he was involved in now... He wanted to laugh until his throat felt raw.

He had spent the past months figuring out what he wanted after graduation, but he was still a work in progress. He didn't know how much longer he could hold onto that new phrasing. It wasn't his choice of words, but someone else's interpretation of his limbo state, someone more optimistic than he could ever be for himself. He believed the appropriate term to be defected. His therapist asked him to think about his plans for the end of the year and that only pushed him into a downward spiral, which he had been desperately trying to avoid these past several weeks.

After a successful concert, the trainees had been gifted with a much needed break from training. Shouldn't being surrounded by his family and a handful of his friends be comforting, revitalizing even to the mind, body, and soul? An empty schedule unnerved him to the core. Only his body had managed to accept there was not much to do, but he could catch up on sleep and enjoy his mother's cooking, which was something he always missed despite not living too far from his parent's home. His mind had to be deprived of time to overthink, or he risked falling into his own traps of self-loathing and a persistence feeling of worthlessness that had surfaced this year.

"Noeul, are you home?"

His mother's voice filters through his headphones despite the noise canceling feature working minutes ago. Or, was that his mind blocking out the world turning without him? He lower his headphones to rest around his neck, tripping on his way inside the home with one of his sister's sneakers. Seriously, why was she so careless and messy? His years of dorming with other men had definitely shaped him to be more mindful of sharing a communal space and he wouldn't deny he still had his moments, but his sister was on a whole another level.

He discards the letter on his way to the kitchen counter, placing down the reusable bags on it along with the remaining change to help his mother unload the groceries. She rambles on about her edible flowers not being the correct color scheme that she had hoped for her songpyeon cakes. His lips barely twitch into a smile, knowing that thankfully it wasn't his fucked-up. He steps behind her, lowering himself enough to be able to rest his cheek on her shoulder.

"Did you find all the ingredients?" She questions with that comforting lilt of hers, quickly receiving a nod for a response from the young man. He towers over her, but she still perceives him to be the boy with too much to love to express in his body, and an unmatched level of imagination that often got him in too much trouble. She closes the tap, reaching behind her to affectionately fuss with his longer hair. "Are you tired, Noeul? I'm only prepping right now, but I will need your help during assembly. Why don't you go rest?"

He doesn't dare to respond to her question, fully knowing there was a voice crack waiting to expose his sudden bout of emotional turmoil. Instead, his fingers tighten around the fabric of her apron. "H-Have I-I-I disapp—" He inhales sharply, feeling the stinging behind his eyes and afterwards, the tears that gather at his lash line, threatening to fall if he didn't wipe roughly at his eyes. His body felt clammy to his mother's touch, alarming her even more when she twists in the awkward embrace to firmly hold onto the lower half of his face. His voice was thick with his tears when he finally utters the sentence at the tip of his tongue, "Am I a disappointment?"

Was he worthy of the opportunities the company had entrusted him with despite how lacking he still felt? Was he worthy of his friendships despite how much he felt like he failed the people he treasured the most? Was he worthy of accepting love despite how much he hurt others? Was he worthy of his parents patience and understanding despite not having much to show them?

"Noeul, you foolish boy, you're my pride."

[usagi-cri]

It lives rent free in my head.

If Hazbin Hotel had come out when I was a teenager, I would have written a fanfic/ art around a hotel guest who no one realized was there the whole time. (Up until a certain point in the canon story)

Charlie would have rescued them during the Extermination and been tending to their wounds in the background. The OC would wear gloves and have a hoodie or something that makes their face completely shaded so you only see their eyes. What Charlie doesn't realize is that they recused a human because she hasn't seen a living one. It would be a series of scenes where the OC is doing their best to pretend to be a demon. Giving "Ello Fellow Demon." vibes all the way while trying not to panic and find a way home. Other idea for them was they were a wanted Angel who is hiding in human form/body and doesn't remember being an angel. Charlie also gives them the job of taking care of the Garden/grounds at the Hotel. In a very Host Club fashion, people at the hotel begin to figure it out. One by one and no one says anything for the most part. Cause a living human in hell... That's crazy Some scene ideas -During a visit, Lucifer looms over them asks them about Ducks near a pond in the garden and simply welcomes them before leaving. Grinning all the way. Angel confronts Charlie in a hotel room freaking out and basically explains what humans look like. OC just sitting on the bed, blinking. Angel: Waves at OC OC: You just pointed at all of me... Angel: EXCATLY! -Husk, without a letting on, just pours them a drink -Vaggie is the last to find out and is just mad. Vaggie: WHO ELSE KNEW? Angel: Surprised it took you this long. - Alastor casually asks if they want to make a deal and only asks again when the gang are in trouble. Refusing to help himself. (If I went with the angel route, their wings would look like stain glass instead of feathers. ) Instead this idea lives rent free in my head and plays on loop when I try to work.

[writersdrug]

If you smack your boyfriend's ass...

Captain John Price will snap his head up, looking at you with a confused but intrigued expression, rubbing his behind in slight shock. "What's that for, luv?"

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick will throw back his head and laugh, rubbing his ass and smiling at you. "Been workin' out more - is it paying off?" He'll say, looking back at his own ass.

Simon "Ghost" Riley will let out a shocked grunt. "Oi, little wanker-" he'll quickly grab you by the waist before you can scramble away and give you a few sharp pats to your ass.

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish will chuckle mischievously, putting down whatever he'd be doing. "Right, askin' for it now, cheeky-" he'll say, chasing you into to the bedroom.

[bluerosefox]

Always Favors You

Another Sibling Danny and Jason idea!!

"Are you Jason Peter Todd?!" demanded a deep and commanding tone from the strange glowing being in front of them.

All the Bats stiffened and tensed, no doubt gearing up for a fight against the being that somehow knew Red Hood's full name.

Jason, Red Hood, decided to put on a brave front despite no doubt cursing in his head and wondering how the heck did this thing know his full freaking name.

"Whose asking." he snarled out, his hands twitching for his gun when the huge glowing knight with purple flames coming out of his helmet and cape, who was riding on a nightmare looking horse while they all had been in the cave going over tonight's patrol.

The Knight didn't seemed bothered by his response nor did he even seem to care or flinch when Batman made his own demand on 'Why was he there and who was he' or when Damian unsheathed his sword and pointed it towards him. Instead the strange glowing Knight reached to it side and pulled out... A glowing scroll? Huh. (Also he completely unnerved everyone in the room when the Knight didn't even react when Batman had tossed a Baterang when he reached for his side)

The Knight opened the scroll and spoke clearly with purpose.

"Jason Peter Todd,

You are hereby invited as a special guest of honor to the crowning of our future King of the Infinite Realms.

Daniel Phantom, once Daniel Jackson Fenton, and once Daniel Austen Todd.

Prince of the Infinite Realms, the Keeper of Balance, The Peacekeeping Halfa, the Defeater of the Tyrant King Pariah Dark, The Great One, Youngest of the Ancients, Ancient of Space, The Bridge between Life and Death.

You, the half-brother of our King, have been given the highest of honors for your past actions and will be given housing and food in the Realms and Phantom's Keep, for the week long event. Personal servants and attendants will be at your disposal and a seamstress will be on hand to tailor make your attire for the Coronation.

Signed: Clockwork. Ancient of Time. Watcher of the Infinite Timeline. Kronos. Mentor and Adviser.

PS: I shall have Fright Knight ("Me" the Knight bluntly said for a second) leave this scroll along with a personal one for you from Daniel to read over and once you make up your mind sign the bottom of the scroll.

I do hope in time you will pick the right choice Jason Todd, we of the Infinite Realms would like to reward you for your actions. After all, if you hadn't gotten young Daniel away from your father that night all those years ago, we would never had gained our Prince nor be free from our once Tyrant King.

Ah, one more thing.

The Infinite Realms will always favor you Jason."

Jason felt like he couldn't breath as Fright Knight? Rolled up the scroll, pulled a letter from his side, and held out the two items for him to take.

[zhelin-thames]

A Ghostly Text Mishap

Danny flopped onto his bed, phone in hand, glaring at the screen. Another long day of dealing with Vlad's manipulative nonsense had left him frustrated beyond belief. He opened his messages, found the contact labeled Trucker, and began furiously typing.

Danny: You will NOT believe what Plasmius did this time. The absolute NERVE of this guy. You’d think being half-dead would make someone LESS petty, but nooo, this man’s ego is bigger than the Ghost Zone.

Danny: He tried to "buy" my parents' company AGAIN. He offered to “help” with ghost containment tech but really just wants to snoop around for weaknesses in the portal.

Danny: AND he had the audacity to call me “Little Badger” like it’s a term of endearment. I swear, if I hear that ONE MORE TIME, I might go full ghost and dropkick him into the Fenton Thermos.

Satisfied with his venting, Danny tossed his phone onto the bed and buried his face in his pillow. Unbeknownst to him, he had made one critical mistake.

Jason Todd, aka Red Hood, was sitting in his safe house, polishing his guns when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen.

Unknown Number: You will NOT believe what Plasmius did this time…

Jason raised an eyebrow. “What the hell is this?” he muttered, scrolling through the tirade. By the time he got to “Little Badger”, he was smirking.

He typed back:

Jason: Kid, I think you’ve got the wrong number. Unless this “Plasmius” guy is a Gotham villain I’ve somehow missed.

Danny’s phone buzzed, and he rolled over to check it. His heart dropped when he saw the reply.

Danny: Oh no. This isn’t Trucker, is it?

Jason: Nope. But you’ve got my attention. Who’s Plasmius, and why does he sound like the type of guy I’d shoot on principle?

Danny hesitated, then decided to just roll with it.

Danny: Short version: he’s a half-ghost fruitloop billionaire who’s obsessed with ruining my life, becoming my creepy stepdad, and taking over the world. Think Lex Luthor but undead and ickier.

Jason burst out laughing, earning a curious glance from Roy Harper, who had just walked in.

“Who’s got you laughing like that?” Roy asked, setting down a bag of takeout.

“Some kid who texted me by mistake,” Jason replied, showing him the messages.

Roy skimmed them and snickered. “Plasmius? Sounds like a knockoff vampire villain.”

Jason’s fingers flew over the keyboard.

Jason: Okay, kid, you’ve officially got my interest. I don’t know who you are, but if this Plasmius guy’s half as bad as you say, I’ve got some creative ways to deal with him. You in Gotham?

Danny stared at the message, blinking. Who even was this guy? But... he did sound like he knew how to handle problems.

Danny: Uh, no. I’m from Amity Park. It’s kind of a supernatural hotspot, so I’ve got it covered. But thanks for the offer, I guess?

Jason smirked.

Jason: Supernatural hotspot? Kid, you’re talking to someone who’s been resurrected. Ghosts don’t scare me.

Danny froze. Resurrected? Oh no. This guy might actually know about the supernatural.

Danny: ...Wait, who ARE you?

Jason: Name’s Jason. Most people call me Red Hood. Ever heard of me?

Danny blinked, then groaned. “Of course. I text a vigilante. Just my luck.”

Danny: ...Yeah, I’ve heard of you. So, uh, thanks for not tracking this number and showing up at my house or something.

Jason: Yet.

Danny felt a shiver run down his spine.

Danny: That’s not funny, dude.

Jason: Relax, Little Badger. Your secret’s safe with me. For now. But hey, if you ever need help dealing with your undead billionaire problem, hit me up.

Danny sighed, shaking his head.

Danny: Sure. Thanks, I guess?

Jason leaned back, grinning as he saved the number under Ghost Kid.

“Roy, I think I just found the weirdest contact in my phone.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Roy replied, tossing Jason a burger.

“Not bad. Just… different.” Jason chuckled. “Plasmius, huh? Sounds like fun.”

[valtsv]

"why do you talk so much" i like to share things with people andd a wizard cursed me to use at least three words wherever one would suffice so just fucking deal with it alright

[specialagentartemis]

“Be curious about what you’re writing about” is not stock Common Writing Advice but it really, really should be. There are a lot of written works that fail due to the authors just being obviously incurious about what they are writing about.

[homunculus-argument]

>find new Sherlock Holmes adaptation >ask the receptionist whether this one has realistic autism or Sheldon Cooper autism >she doesn't understand >pull out illustrated diagram explaining what is realistic autism and what is Sheldon Cooper autism >she laughs and says "it's a good adaptation sir >look inside

>it's Sheldon Cooper autism

[baeshijima]

thoughts on being engaged to duke!sunday, the head of the oak family, an incredibly influential figurehead within society, the close subordinate of emperor gopher wood who brought him and his sister in and raised him like his own, and the villain who faces a tragic ending in a novel you recently finished — the very same one you just so happen to find yourself transmigrated into. he is as cunning as he is blinded, a trait which brought ruin to many in the empire, and one which ultimately brought ruin to himself at the hands of the protagonists.

as luck would have it, you became a barely mentioned side character from a marquis family, whose role was to be the villain's wife stuck in a one-sided love who, too, would get caught up in the tragedy alongside him. however, now that it's you who is stuck in this position, you're determined to try any means necessary to deter him from going down that path, all in an effort to escape your predestined doomed fate!

of course, you didn't expect it to be easy. the day of your arrival in this world was already the night before your wedding, so you had little time to prepare yourself for the nonchalance of your supposed family, how they viewed you as but a means — a tool — to boost their influence and prosperity, the dismissive mannerisms of the household servants, and the absolute beauty of a man you will be married to.

(seriously. the novel descriptions did not do him justice. he was like... like... like he was handcrafted by god himself! and not to mention his sister, robin, was the very epitome of an angel! perhaps you're destined to perish by the god-tier visuals instead...)

to say the least, the wedding ceremony went by quickly. safe to say you didn't spend the night; he was cordial and gentlemanly upon letting you know that he won't do anything until you're ready, that you can take this relationship slow, but somehow you ended up feeling a tad insulted. like, who leaves their newly wedded alone in a big cold bed as they walk out on their own? a sick bastard that's who!

well, whatever. it's not like you need nor want to consummate with him! besides, you have bigger things to worry about — things such as your impending death. and, of course, the only way to stop sunday that you can imagine working is by chipping away at his resolve bit by bit, and opening his eyes to reality.

he is a tragic character, one who cares more about the well-being of penacony and its people than anyone else, but was manipulated into getting his hands dirty in the emperor's stead. you knew this. you sobbed over his story, cursed out the protagonists, and even fought internet randos on novel forums about sunday's motivation and how,

no, he is not just a stupid villain. he is a complex character with flaws and humanity and was cruelly taken advantage of by someone he considered family. he was deceived through the suffering the emperor wanted him to see to make him easily manipulated, creating a rift between him and robin to have that prominent separation. you know what? maybe you're just a !%#@ who can't even #@?"% read properly!

and yet you still find yourself at a loss when faced with the walls he has in place. your initial efforts went as well as it possibly could have; you trying to earnestly help him, while he "kindly" dismisses your offers! well, "kindly" being more condescending since you could read between the lines of his mannerisms and amiable demeanour, but that's fine! you expected this! that just means you have to double down on your sincerity, get through to his heart (somehow), and help him realise humanity isn't as weak as he's led to believe!

you have three years until the novel's plot officially starts, and another year after that until your demise. that's plenty of time to get him to warm up to you!

it was easier said than done, but after your valiant effort and abundance of time put into this relationship, which admittedly you could do with some of that lost time back, you could give yourself a pat on the back with the progress you made! while you definitely could have done without a lot of the headaches, it's safe to say sunday has significantly warmed up to you in comparison to your wedding day. he now willingly eats all his meals with you with some real conversation, takes garden strolls with you in the early evenings, invites you out for dinner at a restaurant at least four times a week, hell he's even joked and laughed with you more frequently! but most importantly, he has begun asking for your opinion before finalising any decisions he is required to make. and he actually listens and considers your side! now, that certainly is the best outcome you could hope for after all this time, and it most definitely will help in your endeavour to save you both from the protagonists!

however, you've noticed he's been more... affectionate? well, at the very least he now willingly holds your hand when in private (not just in moments when you're in the public eye and he has to make sure the family's reputation is spotless), sometimes he will hug you out of the blue ("i just need to... recharge. you have a way of calming me down. i hope you don't mind." ...how could you say no to his supreme god-tier face card? that's just a losing battle you won't even bother fighting against.), oftentimes he opts to just gaze wordlessly at you (robin had mentioned over one of your tea times how it almost appears as though there is no one but you in the world when sunday gazes at you with, in her words, "the eyes of a man so deeply in love!" ...whatever that's supposed to mean...), but a more recent development has been his sudden interest in kissing you; well, more specifically giving you a kiss to the back of your hand or on your forehead — certainly not anywhere near the lips! (besides, he's probably just gotten comfortable with you, enough where he can freely act without judgement. nothing more, nothing less.)

well, either way, development is development! soon enough, the time for the main plot to start has arrived. it of course follows what you remember, from the organised balls to the protagonists meeting to the political aspects of it all. the only difference is sunday's less active involvement in all the schemes and the emperor's ploy. rather, he seems more focused on you and the future of your marriage and even displayed a sudden interest in your practically non-existent relationship with one of the foreign diplomats, aventurine— wait...

"[name]," he calls your name out so sweetly you nearly disregarded it as someone else he was talking to. well, perhaps you would have done had he not suddenly appeared before you, a tight-lipped smile tugging the corners of his lips as he steadily approaches you.

oh. he doesn't seem very happy, if his tense figure is anything to go by. you wonder if one of the nobles grated his nerves a little too much this time?

sunday comes to a halt a step away from you. "i don't like that... gambler being so close to you. it... it brings me a rather unpleasant feeling." there's a slight, trembling pause. not a moment later does he close the gap between you, one knee on the ground as he matches your seated height on the fountain rim, your hands gently enclosed in both of his.

you idly wonder if this is what robin meant by the so-called "eyes of a man so deeply in love" she constantly gushed about, for the way in which he gazes up at you is enough to render you breathless.

"tell me, [name]," he begins once more. there is an underlying desperation woven within his tone, one which has your head spinning and heart thumping wildly as his trembling gaze holds you in place. "tell me, what am i to do with this fervent love and overwhelming adoration i hold for you?"

oh.

...oh.

perhaps your impending doom should be the least of your concerns when you now find yourself in the arms of a clingy husband...

(though, it's safe to say you did, in fact, manage to prevent him from succumbing to his tragic fate! you just gained a loving, yet slight slightly emotionally challenged husband along the way.

well, you can help him work through it; you have the rest of your lives now to figure it out, after all.)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

personal happiness or what the fuck ever

bonus:

[dxckgrxsonx]

Soft sleepy affectionate Jason Todd is good for the soul:

**

Just standing in the kitchen, half asleep in the early morning, sunlight catching the curve of your mouth on a yawn and a warm, thick pair of arms circling your waist from behind, a forehead pressed into your back.

There’s hardly any sound, the tick of a clock in the background, a soft little exhale into the back of your shirt. Fingers warm and sly sneaking up under your pyjamas in search of skin. Palms splayed over your tummy, a content mumble echoing in the space between sleep and awake; caught in a dream.

Leaning forwards into the counters edge to make a cup of something warm and sweet and being tugged back into place with a tired growl, no real choice other than settling into place and letting Jason hold you close, swaying slightly with how drowsy he is. A quiet, whining grumble of your name when you move again.

Hopping up on the kitchen counter and tugging him in close between your parted knees, his head tucking into the warm space where your shoulder meets your neck. Your fingers sweeping through his tangled hair, down his neck, across his shoulders. Feet locked at the ankle around his hips, not willing to let him pull out of reach.

Sliding back into bed with a warm drink and Jason clinging at your side, legs tangling together when he nudges yours apart with a knee. Playing with the hair at the nape of his neck and listening to him drop back off into sleep, a gentle, quiet slur of “I love you” the last coherent thing you get out of his mouth for the next few hours.

Just…Jason being soft and a little needy and feeling safe enough to trust you to lead whilst he slots into that tired space where you’re only half aware of what’s happening outside your partner being close and warm.

**

[ghcstao3]

johnny has always known simon to be quiet, introverted. it’s possible to get him talking when they’re alone, sure, but generally simon happens to be content listening to johnny speak, more than anything. a man of few words, as all the privates would say.

he expects it to be the same way when simon is at home, with family—but dear god, was johnny wrong to assume so.

it’s a whole new side of simon, when he’s with his family. and johnny kind of adores it.

simon complains when his mum asks for the nth time when’s the wedding? and looks pointedly at johnny. simon gets into lighthearted brotherly spats with tommy about the most insignificant things. simon and beth exchange their dry wit and shitty jokes. simon is loud and lively when he plays with joseph.

it takes some adjustment for johnny, at first, to get used to this strangely extroverted version of simon. but he certainly doesn’t hate it—if anything, it has him feeling inspired by simon’s mum by the end of the night.

maybe he’ll start asking simon when the wedding will be. perhaps that’ll speed things along.

[bababaka]

Yall need to interact with fanfiction author's more.

So. After the ddos attack on ao3.

I was encouraged to write more comments and make my love known to fanfic writers.

I dont really like commenting. Because im a bit shy and soooo lazy.

Now though. I am writing more comments. And dude. This is so heartwarming. Ya'll need to treat writers better. They are doing the lord's work.

Take for an example, couple of days prior, i was searching for something interesting to read, and found an oneshot quite compelling.

I read it. At the end of it, i was blown away by how good it was. It promised me something and it went beyond my expectations. But then i saw a crime, zero fucking comments!

At that moment, i wasn't feeling up to writing a comment. Because, normally i like to write huge paragraphs. But because im lazy i decided to be brief.

Next day, the author answered that the comment lift their mood for the whole day.

That warmed my heart.

Duuuuuuuude! Write comments! Suport the writers of the fics you like! No need to be something super elaborate. Just give your thoughts. Freak out. Ramble. Ask something. Make theories. Compliment. Make a joke about how you wished to give kudos every chapter but ao3 sucks(not true bby) and won't let you.

Truly. Just. Comment. It can make someone's day. And that is part of the apeal of writing fics. Interacting with people.

Just give love to fanfic writers yall. They deserve this and so much more.