#like. if I were to draw Me. as how I feel and think and exist in reality. it would b so abstract you could barely see a human in it

[dirtylittlesecre7]

Hiii I was wondering if we could get a dom!cho hyun-ju x f! Reader where weve bee feeling kind of insecure so she helps prove that theres nothing to be insecure about? Do u think u could add some praise, hand holding n whatever else u would like to add? Pls n thank u!!

! nsfw content !

dom gf!hyun-ju x f!reader

(these are happening in a way that the squid game does not exist)

word count | 1,5k

warning | smut, oral(reader receiving), yeah that's all

"aren't you ready yet?" the voice coming from outside the door made you swallow hard, you looked at yourself in the mirror again. you had made an agreement with your girlfriend to go out but you didn't want to go out now. you wanted to wear the dress hyun-ju bought for you on today's date but something seemed missing, you weren't feeling well, even looking in the mirror started to hurt so you turned your head away "I..I'll be ready in a minute."

hyun-ju looked at the clock and let out a breath when she realized that your reservation time was almost past. of course she would always wait for you but it had taken longer than necessary. after a while you heard another knock on the door "is everything okay..? if you need anything please tell me, should I come in?" her worried tone made you feel bad too, you didn't want to ruin anything on a day like this. hyun-ju was about to leave when she didn't hear anything from you but the sound of the door opening made her stop.

she looked at you, then her gaze roamed over your body, you looked so... perfect. she smiled slightly as she realized that you were embarrassed by her gaze and locked eyes with yours again. hyun-ju took a step closer and held your hands. "you're so beautiful, but why is your face so sulky, hm? tell me, darling." one of her hands went to your chin and made you look at her. you could barely put your thoughts into words but finally managed to speak. "I..I don't feel very good in this dress..don't get me wrong- you bought it for me and it's absolutely beautiful but..I think I diminished it's beauty by wearing it."

a sigh filled the air, hyun-ju entered the room and then closed the door and placed both hands on your cheek, her thumbs drawing small circles as you began to relax under her touch. "I don't want you to say things like that. please. I know it's hard to change your mind no matter what I say and I hate it but..I wish you could see how you look through my eyes." her hands went down to your waist and with small steps she led you to where the mirror was, now with your back turned to her you were looking at yourself in the mirror again. hyun-ju tilted her head slightly to the side and placed a small kiss on your neck "every part of you is so beautiful, so precious." another kiss, her voice was lower this time "I am so lucky to have you, such a delicate beauty that would make angels jealous..it's completely unfair for you to feel so insecure when everyone around you is talking about your beauty, my little baby."

you turned your head to her, every word she said caused your eyes to fill with tears, hyun-ju's face filled with worry as she felt a pain in her heart the moment she realized this "who talked about me?" she knew you were upset right now but when she heard your soft voice and saw the way your bottom lip pouted, she couldn't help but giggle at your sweetness, and kissed your lips, wiping your bottom lip with her thumb as the lipstick you had just applied smeared with her "last week when we met the others, you got up to go to the bathroom and as soon as you left, se-mi made a comment about how your skirt looked good on you. well..I can't say she was wrong of course but I have to admit I was jealous. you attract attention everywhere we go and it makes me happier to have you."

you tried to process what she said, hyun-ju gave you a moment to give yourself time but her gaze fell on the strap of your dress that had fallen off your shoulder. you flinched slightly when you felt her fingers on your shoulder while you were lost in thought, raised your head to her but she wasn't looking at you, her eyes traveled from your shoulder to your neck "y/n.." you answered while the way she said your name made your body shiver "yes?" the moment hyun-ju heard your weak voice, it was all over for her, neither the restaurant nor anything else on her mind. she lowered the strap of your dress again and kissed your shoulder. whispered "we're late enough for the reservation..."

she made you lie down on the bed and was soon on top of you. "I'm sorry..I didn't mean for it to happen-" your sentence was cut off when hyun-ju's hand slid under your dress and caressed your thigh. "shh..there's nothing to apologize for." looked into your eyes with desire. "let me prove how beautiful my girlfriend is, with or without a dress." she delicately removed the single piece of fabric you were wearing, she was eager to touch you but she liked to savor this moment more slowly. soon you were left with only your panties, her fingers finding your clit through the fabric as she kissed your lips hungrily, sucking on your bottom lip and you let out a whimper when your tongues met.

her kisses slowly moved down, first to your neck, then to your breasts, lingering for a while before coming to your stomach. you giggled slightly as the tiny kisses tickled you. hyun-ju smiled when she heard your laugh and lifted her head. "that's it. I always want to see you laugh." continued, the wet kisses she left in between were making your mind blurry. you admired how she could take away all your worries, even a single kiss could make you forget all the bad things.

as she went down further, she kissed your clit through the fabric, hand stopped you as you were about to close your legs, she raised her head and looked at you "I want you to keep your legs open, okay little one?" you just nodded in approval, you didn't want to wait any longer and she knew it very well. took off your panties without waiting too long and got between your legs, her hand found your hand and intertwined your fingers "hyun-ju.." you said her name needily. without making you wait any longer, her tongue met your pussy, she sucked your clit for a while, and then she went down a little further, stuck her tongue in your hole. you squeezed the hand you held with a loud moan, hyun-ju continued to destroy you with her tongue while she started caressing your hand with her thumb.

her movements were slow and seductive but when you didn't expect it, she sped up, she grabbed your leg with her free hand and spread it wider, making it easier for her to eat you out. all you could do at that moment was moan her name. even though she had done this often, holding hands made you feel strangely embarrassed. hyun-ju always made gestures like this during sex and she always managed to embarrass you. in fact, at that moment you realized how unimportant the thoughts of the people around you were, when you had a girlfriend like this and were loved like this, you didn't want to care about others anymore. there was only her and you.

hyun-ju's movements didn't stop, her tongue was moving rapidly inside your pussy while her hand holding your leg slowly moved from your belly to your breasts, when she started playing with your hardened nipple with gentle movements, you let out another loud moan, she knew very well which parts of your body were sensitive. after a while the pleasure you were getting from both sides started to be too much, you moved your hips and your stomach tightened, you knew you were close to cumming "hyun-ju..I..I'm..c-close.." you could barely speak between your moans, just threw your head back in pleasure. hyun-ju moaned as your hips moved around her face and after a while you couldn't hold yourself back any longer and came in her mouth.

she pulled back, looking at the juices flowing from your pussy before looking at you who was exhausted. she grinned slightly, oh she loved eating you out so much, she could do this all day long but she had other things to worry about right now. her lips were glistening from your juices, licked her own lips and leaned in closer, kissing your cheek. “I love you so much.” buried her head in your neck. “please don’t hesitate to talk to me at times like this, I don’t like you being by yourself, I’m always here. always.” her arms wrapped tightly around your waist and she laid down on the bed, pulling you to her. “we’re late for dinner..” you purred, she chuckled and pulled back slightly to look at your face. “I got more than what i wanted, but I can still make you something if you’re hungry?” saw you avert your eyes shyly and kissed your forehead with a smile. “you rest here, I’ll go and make sure you get fed well.” she put the covers over you and looked at you one last time before leaving the room. when the door closed, there were no bad thoughts or anything else on your mind anymore.

[corviiids]

hello thank you for asking i am very flattered. i would be most honoured to give some advice that i am most certainly unqualified to give!!

ok advice 1: hey why does everyone keep telling me to read and write a lot

i think this is the most commonly given advice. i have always found it true but incomplete, because on the face of it this kind of focuses a little too much on volume. which by itself just isn't going to do that much for you, or it will, but it'll do it very slowly and ineffectively, because the second part of this advice i don't see nearly as much (and the part that makes it work for me) is that after you read or write something you need to do The Why Interrogation. what are you looking for?

when you like something, why do you like it? not just in terms of copying and learning an author's stylistic quirks or techniques, but in a more abstract way:

is it the narrative? that the premise is novel, that the progression of the story is unexpected and thrilling, that the stakes are high?

is it the characters? what is it about them? do they have compelling backgrounds? does the author spend a lot of time in their heads? is the pov internal in a way that lets you experience the story from their shoes? does their biased narration tell you more about them? or is it a detached narration that lets you see the characters in a way they don't see themselves, so the gap is intriguing?

is it the telling? maybe the prose is beautiful - what makes it so? sentence structure? unconventional use of grammar and punctuation? elegant, sophisticated vocabulary? or maybe the dialogue is sharp and human so conversation flows naturally. is the story paced carefully? does the author linger more in certain moments?

the same exercise is useful for what ISN'T working.

if your attention is drifting, what's making it drift?

purple prose? clumsy prose?

does the narration drag?

do the characters feel stagnant, and why?

plot doesn't make any sense?

maybe this sounds obvious, but imo it's a crucial piece of the advice that i just don't see as much because people tend to focus on volume of works consumed/created. the reflection and analysis is what makes that volume useful, otherwise you're just churning through content. the question should always be why, why, why. why did that work, why didn't it work, why did i like this, why does it suck. then proceed to: if i were doing this, how could i make it work?

advice 2: don't forget that all the words you need already exist.

this is more subjective advice. this is something that works for me personally. so ymmv. have you ever tried magnet poetry? you should try magnet poetry.

i always see writing as kind of a puzzle. if i have an idea in my head, the idea exists. the job is actually a translation exercise: how do i express the thing in my head as a thing other people can see? in this way it's like visual art, but it's also not like visual art at all. in visual art you choose where all the lines and colours go, completely freely. any line you draw is a brand new line.

in language, all your parts already exist. all the words already exist. (you can make new ones if you want but that's a whole different thing.) you are plucking symbols out of a collective understanding. it is like lego. all you are doing is selecting the most effective pieces and placing them in order. so for me, i am simply trying to find the 'right' words to fit each context as best as possible. it becomes a game of arrangement, which determines your expression.

then syntax and punctuation become your rhythm, which is how you determine flow. sentence length, word length, whether you omit words or use more, whether you want to be a bit unconventional. character also plays into this - i am not writing an advice 3 because i am getting self conscious but advice 3 would have been consistency of voice.

so i would prioritise vocabulary and timing. what are you trying to say (which words do you pick) and how do you want the reader to experience your words, how do you want the words to feel and sound (how will you pace your sentences)? remembering that all the parts are already there. it is the world's biggest game of magnet poetry.

advice 3 which doesn't exist: keep your voice consistent.

this advice doesn't exist. im not writing this i got embarrassed and stopped at 2. but if i did write this it would say, remember who you are. (remember who is writing your story. are you a character or are you god? remember how much you know. remember which feelings you have access to.)

[omagpies]

No way! Another person who has spent way too much time on apex! Who's your main? I'm guessing BH but I don't want to assume. How did you feel about the BH/Fuse engagement? Do you have any heirlooms? Sorry, not very many people play apex on here.

Also, do you have any apex art? If not that's totally cool but I would love to see it!

you have activated my trap card!! many drawings ahead

my main is indeed bloodhound. i also whip out fuse, mirage, and to a lesser degree octane, but mostly i'm a one trick bloodhound. they were what got me into the game in the first place back in season 7 when i heard their 'i'm afraid of heights :(' voicelines (a cool hunter nonbinary character voiced by none other than allegra clark? sign me tf up), and even though i am Very Bad At Shooting and don't actually like battle royale-type games apex stayed my brainrot for over two years. the brainrot is definitely over now and these days i play it as a social thing, but that's how i acquired 2k+ hours lmao

also they released a magpiehound recolor called 'frosthaven' that i gleefully snatched up and have been wearing it ever since (ft the magpie holospray and the magpie mural on their latest map. i think they are catering to me specifically)

i am. truly Not Good. i am here just to clown and gossip and make poor life choices. my impulse control is too non existent for someone whose best skill is shooting a perfect outline around the enemy and not a bullet within

i had SO MUCH bloodhound art over on twitter good god. out of the following two drawings, the first one was bought out by allegra to sell as signed prints, and the second one was reposted onto apex's IG account, and in general this was the one time i genuinely had a blast on twitter interacting with all the devs and vas before everything went downhill both in respawn and on twitter lol. also i have to say, s10 and the whole White Raven thing fed me so. so so. SO well. the existential angst was incredible.

i participated in a couple of zines/projects as well! i have many thoughts about their canonical(!) respawn system and the resulting unimportance of death. adds to the existentialism and to bloodhound's religious themes

overall it was a very, very prolific period for me, and there are many pieces i'm still very happy with to this day

(^ the second to last one is a reference to the fusehound confession scene, and the last one is related to one of my fics, wooden bones (forest deity!bh au))

shipping!!! miragehound was my initial and most prominent ship, and i will never forgive respawn for not expanding on their backstory (their mothers worked together COME ON. they might have met as children! COME ON!!!!! i have a whole series exactly about the What Could Have Been)

their backstory with boone also fascinated me for a very long time, and my friends and i spent many a yap session dissing the dude until we stopped and thought, hey, what if he really was Just Some Guy who made mistakes, what if he wasn't evil, and that's what pulled me right back into the brainrot when i was already starting to slowly recover from it. boone now has a very elaborate backstory and lore and i hope to god respawn never puts him in the games the way we did because a) they don't GET him and b) i don't trust the fandom with him lmao. i'm super down to blabber about him though just say the word. he's everything to me, my big, sad, hairy man

we also invented in-game stuff for him. he had abilities and skins etc etc (the top row of skins is his titan pilot backstory + talos era + 'default' in-game skin)

this diptych still lives rent-free in my head, i think i really won with this one

where miragehound and boonehound flourished, mirageboonehound wasn't far behind! i wrote how it came to be and all. also Рorn. so much Рorn. seriously.

also this was the first time i redrew the twelfth night as my otp. the second one was mouthwashing

fusehound was an absolute delight to watch blossom, especially since we know it wasn't planned and just Kind Of Happened. i felt that lmao. characters be like that. i'm a bit sadge they shelved the whole talos plotline in favor of romance but at this point i gave up on expecting good lore from apex, especially after they fired herr frozenfroh. i didn't draw fusehound nearly as much, BUT i do have one fic that was basically a dream i had lol

honorable mention goes to revhound!! this is the ship that went really hard with artists and writers. deeply painful, deeply compelling, absolutely incredible. mindblowing angst and just as mindblowing рorn, together or separately. best shit. the one ship i didn't write for because compared to the fandom's behemoths i never felt like i'd be able to contribute anything meaningful lol, i just got to sit back and enjoy

bonus: as one of my friends eloquently put it, bh and their bhitches :)

i was going to put in more pictures but hit the 30 images limit!!! my twitter is now abandoned but if you scroll down just a little you can see all the stuff that didn't make it into this post.

apex and bloodhound also REALLY, REALLY got me writing. i came into the fandom already relatively warmed up after a 170k fire emblem fic, but i ended up writing 200k+ for miragehound, mirageboonehound, and fusehound combined. i was unstoppable. it was insane. i've linked some already but you can peep them all here. bloodhound's pov was especially fun to write for, purple prose my beloved

also you asked me about heirlooms! i'm a lucky motherfucker who managed to get one set of shards from the 500th box and another from just the random 0.4% chance. so i have bloodhound's and fuse's as they are my most played characters :)

[cheshireliam]

vent ahead you have been warned

no like seriously i don't recommend you open this post if you're not a roger and/liam fan. but if you want to? rest assured it's not character hate (really).

i understand that the top 5 suitors will get special content because they're called promise events for reason aka the events were promised back in 2024 during elections, so i don't have anything against giving fans of those suitors what they're meant to get.

what makes me upset is ikevil's treatment of roger and liam for ranking #8 and #9 respectively. just because they don't have as many fans as other suitors like jude, does that mean their fans don't matter at all? can you imagine if your favourite suitor doesn't get a single featured event throughout the past more than 365 days? imagine seeing other players having something new to gush about every other event, while all you can do is stare at a poster for an upcoming event that doesn't feature your man. AGAIN.

there's a difference between treating some suitors better because they're popular vs straight up ignoring those who aren't. "c company" can give the top suitors however many events and gachas they want, it doesn't matter. but to exclude specifically the "bottom" two suitors from a LOGIN EVENT (that's completely unrelated to the upcoming promise event btw) is just too much. it's just chibis. just give roger and liam fans the fuckin' chibis. what's so hard about drawing another two tiny people? they only include roger and liam when it's paid content. how DARE they still try to milk us when they don't treat us properly at all.

top suitors' fans spent ungodly amounts of money on the game to support their fav, yes. but have roger and liam fans been spending absolutely $0 or something...? is our money worthless? we're consumers just like the rest of the playerbase. so they can't say it's not worth your time to make content for that two suitors.

@ a certain "c company" : roger and liam are characters that YOU created. i'm sure the artists and writers who worked hard to create them love these characters too, because they're also a fruit of their efforts. they exist and they have fans too. and mind you, they're main characters — not side characters or NPCs. if you think simply giving them a couple of lines in other suitors' events is enough, i'm telling you that it's not.

and then again, i must reinforce that i don't hate any of the other suitors and most definitely don't have anything against their fans. i'm genuinely happy for them that they always get new content, but i just think roger and liam fans deserve to feel that joy too. if you can read this entire post and still conclude that i hate the others suitors/their fans, then i suggest you improve your reading comprehension skills.

[powdcr]

it'll only hurt for a second

୨୧ jinx x transmasc!reader

୨୧ summary: jinx helps you do your testosterone shot

୨୧ word count: 1.4k

୨୧ tw: needles, injections, medical stuff

୭ ୨♡୧ ৎ

Ever since you came out as transgender, Jinx had been nothing but supportive. She had seen the signs ever since she’d known you and had secretly suspected that you felt this way. You never seemed to fit in with feminine terms or as being described as a woman. Over the past few years, she had started referring to you with gender neutral terms and pronouns as this seemed to calm your discomfort. She figured that if you were struggling with your gender, and wanted her to know, that you would tell her when you were ready. That day came and went, and she never saw you any differently for it. You would always belong to her, and that’s all that really mattered to the blue-haired girl.

One day, you met with Jinx in her base. She was tinkering at her desk, working on a blueprint for a new gun that she had wanted to construct. You came in with a satchel thrown over your shoulder. Taking notice of the music being blasted, you smiled to yourself. That’s my girl. You sauntered over to her, trying to call out over the music.

“Jinx! Baby!”

No response could be heard as she kept hard at work, leaning onto the desk to get a better look at whatever it was that she was drawing. You sighed, shaking your head before tapping her on the shoulder.

“Oh, shoots!” She called out, startled, almost falling off of her chair. She turned the stereo off before turning around to see you. She laughed in relief, pulling a loose strand of hair back. “You scared me, space boy.” A blush covered her face as she looked you up and down. You were wearing a more masculine outfit than the ones you had been wearing up until now.

“Sorry, babe. I tried calling out over the music. You always have it so loud. Do you ever think about your hearing when you put it that high?” you asked in a soft tone, genuinely caring about your girlfriend’s health.

Jinx stuttered for once, not taking in the question that you had just asked her. “I- um, no… not really, but wow, you look… good. Handsome. You look handsome.” She gestured with her pointer finger to your outfit and stature, followed by a clearing of her throat.

You cracked a smile, looking down at your feet. You let out a small, “thanks,” before pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Anyway, I wanted to talk with you about something.”

Jinx’s eyebrows raised at your comment. “What’s up, buttercup?” Her tone returned to its normal cheery state as she fell back onto her desk chair. “Hit me with it.”

“Well, I… I don’t know how you’ll feel about this, but…” you stuttered as you opened up the satchel that hung by your hip bone. “I picked up this medication. I got it from someone that has connections over at the Piltover apothecary. If I pay him then he gets it for me, but I wanted to talk with you about it before I did my first dose.”

Jinx’s eyes narrowed. “Okay…” She bit the inside of her cheek as she sat up from her chair to look inside the bag.

The satchel contained needles as well as vials and alcohol wipes. It also had a small container that held syringes. She picked up a vial that had a see-through liquid within it, shaking it gently to watch as the liquid moved side to side.

“So… what is it exactly?”

“Well, you take shimmer, right? It makes you feel stronger, more confident, and it gives you energy. This… It’s supposed to do that for me. Except, it’ll make me look more masculine. I’ll look more like a man than I do now.”

Jinx inspected it further, holding the vial between her painted fingernails. “It’ll make you look more masculine?”

“Yeah! I might get facial hair, gain more muscle, and my voice would definitely get deeper.”

She smiled at your response. “So, correct me if I’m wrong, but… it’ll make you look more like you.”

“Yeah.” The corners of your lips upturned.

“I’m surprised something like this even exists, but then again, I heard there are some topsiders that are trying to create magic, so who knows at this point,” she said, rolling her eyes at the thought of the Pilties. “You want me to inject it for you?”

Your eyes lit up at Jinx’s question. “I mean, if you- yeah, if you’re comfortable. You don’t have to, of course, I wouldn’t wanna-”

“I’ll do it,” she said confidently, cutting you off with a smirk. Jinx motioned for you to hand the satchel over, which you did so obediently.

Jinx took the supplies out of the bag, assembling them all together as you instructed her to. She knelt down on the floor in front of you and had you lift up your shirt for her. Biting her bottom lip in a deep focus, she wiped a part of your stomach with an alcohol swab before pinching the skin in between her fingers.

“You ready, Mr?” Jinx asked in a playful tone to distract you from the situation. You always had had a fear of needles. The idea of them in general absolutely terrified you. That’s why she was so surprised at first that you were willing to do this.

You nodded nervously, holding your eyes closed as you braced for the pain.

“Don’t worry, it’ll only hurt for a second,” she said before sticking you with the needle, “See, it’s already in. You’re doing great, toots. In fact, you’re doing better than Silco does. He’s a real baby about his shimmer injections.”

You winced, but the pain really wasn’t as bad as you thought it was going to be. You laughed a little at Jinx’s comment about Silco. “Is that so?”

“Yep, he makes me do it every day for him at the same time, but he always procrastinates for like fifteen minutes beforehand. Sometimes he even paces,” she said with a giggle. “It’s really silly, honestly. I figure the faster you get it over and done with, the faster it’s, ya know, over. Makes sense to me.” She pulled out the needle as soon as she was done injecting the testosterone, placing a kiss to your stomach. “All done!”

“Really?” You asked, shocked that it happened so fast, before looking down at your blue-haired girlfriend.

“Yep,” she said with a wide grin, pulling your shirt back down for you, “so when does it start working?”

“Well, it’s something that builds up in your system, but technically I should see slight changes as early as the end of this week. I’m supposed to do it weekly, that’s why.”

“Nuh uh,” Jinx retorted.

Your eyebrows raised.

“I’ll be doing it for you weekly,” she said proudly, crossing her arms in front of her. “I might as well be a doctor at this point. I do your injections, mine, and Silco’s.”

You both laugh.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Don’t get all mushy-gushy with me. I know you’d do the same for me,” Jinx replied, trying to not get too sappy with you. “Anyway, I’m excited to see what you’ll look like… finally being you. You’re already you, but… ya know what I mean.”

“I do.”

“You never did tell me… Do you want me to start calling you something else? Maybe there’s a name that you feel suits you more?” Jinx asked, placing her hands on your chest affectionately. She was a mere centimeters from you now, looking into your eyes with her own doe-y, pink ones.

“[Y/N],” you replied. It was obvious that you had thought about it prior to this conversation, but you just didn’t know how to bring it up until now.

She smirked before going in to kiss you. Your lips pressed against her velvety ones. Electricity shot through you as butterflies erupted in your stomach. She tasted like blue raspberry and smoke. It made you feel high just being near her, but kissing her was different. It made you feel crazy.

“I love you, [Y/N],” Jinx replied in a softer tone than the one she had held throughout the rest of your interaction. It was gentle, welcoming, and made you feel safe. It was a voice that you had imagined her having before she had become ‘Jinx.’ She played with the collar of your shirt. “It’s a nice name. It suits you.”

“I love you too, Jinx,” you replied in an equally as soft tone, “I love you so much.”

[kathlare]

slim pickins

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: In a late-night haze, Amelie confronts the emptiness of her fleeting connections and her own unresolved emotions. Through music, she channels her heartache, exposing her longing for something genuine.

Wordcount: 1.2 k

Warnings: angst, mention of anxiety, alcohol.

full masterlist // request over here!

September 18th, 2023 - New York City, NY

Amelie stood by the door, her fingers gently brushing Jack’s shoulder as he pulled his jacket on, preparing to leave. His eyes were still heavy with the afterglow of their latest encounter, but the expression on his face was entirely indifferent—exactly the way they both liked it.

—Goodnight,— Amelie said softly, leaning in to give him a quick, perfunctory kiss on the lips. He kissed her back lazily, as though he didn’t even care that they’d just slept together. He had already mentally checked out.

—Yeah, good night,— Jack muttered, giving her a once-over, but his eyes weren’t really seeing her. He turned on his heel, stepping out of her apartment without another word.

Amelie didn’t feel anything as she watched him walk away. No regret. No longing. No bitterness. Just a heavy emptiness that had become too familiar. She closed the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment, her eyes closed.

She needed something else. Something that didn’t make her feel like she was existing in a void. But everything she wanted seemed out of reach, like a dream fading in the morning light.

The soft click of the door locking broke her trance. She glanced down at the mess scattered around the floor—clothes strewn about like they had no purpose, like they weren’t even hers. She bent down, collecting the remnants of the night: a discarded heel here, a wrinkled shirt there. The room was a mirror to her mind—chaotic, fleeting, and empty.

Once she was dressed, Amelie sat down at the piano, her fingers tapping against the ivory keys. She didn’t even think about it; the melody came naturally, rising from the quiet ache inside her chest. The need to write. To scream her frustration into the only medium that ever made sense.

She closed her eyes, letting her fingers find the keys, the notes growing more urgent as her thoughts took shape. The words tumbled out before she could stop them, raw and desperate, slipping from her lips as the piano supported her.

—"Guess I'll end this life alone,"— she hummed under her breath, her fingers gliding over the keys in a gentle rhythm. The melancholy of the music seemed to match the weight on her heart, the feeling that no matter what she did, she'd always end up right back where she started. Alone. Empty.

—"I am not dramatic, these are just the thoughts that pass right through me,"— she sang softly, her voice low and almost breathless, catching on the sadness that lingered in every note. The song was forming itself, pouring out of her like an untold story, one she'd been too afraid to admit to herself for a long time.

Amelie’s fingers danced across the piano keys, a slow, deliberate pace matching the heaviness in her chest. The melody had taken on a life of its own, tugging at the rawness she could never quite bury, no matter how much she tried to keep it hidden beneath the distractions. She couldn’t escape the feeling—the ache, the longing—for something real, something that wasn’t tainted by shallow encounters or fleeting moments of distraction.

Her mind kept drifting back to Lando. She couldn’t help it. It was like a magnetic pull, drawing her thoughts back to him even though she’d tried so hard to push him out of her life. But no matter how many men like Jack she kissed or how many times she distracted herself with someone who didn’t matter, the truth was inescapable: she couldn’t have him.

—"A boy who's jacked and kind, can't find his ass to save my life,"— she sang softly, the words flowing naturally. The line made her snicker under her breath, the bitterness mingling with her grief. The men she met, like Jack, were just placeholders, people to pass the time when what she truly wanted was out of reach. And Lando… well, Lando was still out of reach. Always out of reach.

Her fingers faltered on the keys for a moment, a flash of something too painful sweeping through her. She blinked away the sting in her eyes and continued, pushing herself forward,

but she couldn't finish the line. Not yet. The weight of it all—the unspoken words, the unresolved feelings—had gathered too quickly, drowning her in a wave of emotion she wasn’t ready to confront. Her throat tightened, and her fingers came to an abrupt halt on the keys.

Amelie took a deep breath, pushing the chair back from the piano, feeling the sting of her own inadequacy. She wasn’t ready. The song was too raw, too honest. And she wasn’t sure she could expose that part of herself to the world, especially not in a song that so perfectly captured the messy, tangled emotions she couldn’t make sense of.

Her eyes flickered over to the window, the lights of New York shimmering against the dark night sky. There was something beautiful about the city in moments like this. She felt small here—insignificant even—but in the best way possible. It was like everything she wanted to forget was swallowed by the vastness of it all.

But the pain didn’t go away. It never did.

She grabbed her phone, checking the time. 2:43 a.m. Another night wasted, another evening spent in someone else’s arms to drown out the memories of Lando. She tried to push the thought away, but it lingered, like a shadow she couldn’t outrun.

Amelie tossed her phone aside, frustrated by the constant loop of her thoughts. She stood, pacing around the apartment, feeling the tension knotting her shoulders. It had been months since she’d seen Lando. And not just seen him, but spoken to him.

He was gone. He had moved on, and yet, she couldn’t seem to let go.

—Fucking idiot,— she muttered under her breath, sitting down on the couch. Her head lolled back against the cushions, staring at the ceiling. What was it that made him so hard to forget?

The truth was simple, and it hurt like hell: she loved him. And that was why it hurt. That’s why she kept falling back into this cycle of numbing herself with other distractions—other people like Jack, who were easy, uncomplicated, and most of all, fleeting. None of it was real. Not like what she had wanted with Lando.

She stood and walked to the window, pulling back the blinds. The city was alive with the hum of late-night traffic, the occasional honk of a car horn carrying in the distance. But there was no sense of peace in the view, not for her.

She rubbed her temples and walked back to the piano. It was time to finish the song. She didn’t have much left in her, but she knew the ending was there—just a few more lines to get out.

She sat down and placed her fingers on the keys once more, letting the sorrow in her heart guide her hands. The words started to pour out again, but this time, they were heavier. More honest.

—"Jesus, what's a girl to do?"— she sang softly, her voice trembling with the weight of it all.

The line caught in her throat, and she paused. It had been too much, too damn much. She wasn’t just singing about the lack of good men or the endless cycle of disappointment. She was singing about herself. About how tired she was of playing these games. Of pretending she didn’t care.

She pressed her lips together and tried again.

—"This boy doesn't even know the difference between there, their, and they are."— The line was sharp, biting. But it was true. She wasn’t talking about Jack anymore. She was talking about all of them. All the men who didn’t understand, who couldn’t see her for what she was. All the ones who couldn’t measure up to the one she wanted.

Her fingers hovered over the keys, a sudden heaviness gripping her chest. She had spent so long pretending she didn’t care. Pretending that her feelings for Lando were something she could ignore. But the truth was—God, the truth was that Lando had always been it for her. And she couldn’t have him.

Not now. Not after everything that had happened. After he’d moved on to someone else, and after she had pushed him away when he needed her the most. She was the one who had shut him out, and now, it was too late.

—"A boy who's nice that breathes..."— her voice faltered as she reached the next line, but this time, it didn’t come out. The ache in her chest rose, unbearable, and she slammed her hand down onto the keys in frustration, the discordant sound filling the empty apartment.

Her eyes stung with the beginnings of tears. She wiped them away angrily, trying to push through the overwhelming emotions. But it wasn’t working. The song, the words, the music—it was too much. It was all too much.

Amelie stood abruptly, shaking her head as if she could physically shake off the weight of it all. Her legs carried her into the kitchen, and she opened the fridge, pulling out a bottle of wine. She didn’t even bother with a glass, just drank straight from the bottle. The alcohol burned down her throat, but it didn’t numb the ache inside her. Nothing did.

She leaned against the counter, staring at her reflection in the window, the city lights flickering behind her.

—Why do I keep doing this to myself?— she asked aloud, her voice low. She hated the fact that she had so many questions with no answers, and the most infuriating one of all was why she couldn't stop thinking about Lando. Why she couldn’t stop wanting him.

She wasn’t going to let herself break down. Not now. Not again.

She tossed the wine bottle into the recycling bin and wiped her face, forcing herself to focus. She couldn’t keep wallowing in this. She had to keep going. There was no other option. The world didn’t stop for her sadness.

But as she walked back into the living room, the song still hanging in the air like an unfinished thought, the answer to her internal question lingered.

Because she loved him.

No matter what she did, Lando was always going to be the one she couldn’t forget. The one she couldn’t walk away from.

And that’s when she realized—there was no fixing her. Not anymore.

Not when her heart still beat for the boy who didn’t fight for her.

[jadecantcreate]

theyre holding hands……(and being shy about it)

hootsie and gricko doodles (mostly hootsie)

both requested by @nicohasperished !

[starry-bi-sky]

tales of the passerine - danny fenton being bruce wayne's first kid

okay okay. so this is like a continuation/elaboration of my oneshot/prompt i wrote about the idea that Danny was the first batkid. We have a lot of aus where he joins the family after the rest of the bats do, right? So hey! Lets shake things up a bit. Danny is the first to be adopted by Bruce Wayne.

Danny's parents and unfortunately Jazz die shortly after the events of TUE -- how so? I was gonna say an ecto-filter explosion, that would call back to the TUE explosion and trauma behind that. But lets do something new! Carbon-monoxide poisoning.

It's not too unexpected for something to break in the Fenton house, especially with the Fenton parents' questionable understanding of proper weapon handling and lab safety. The water heater broke from a stray shot by one of the weapons, and was promptly MacGyver'd incorrectly. Danny went to stay with Tucker for a guys' night, and came back to a dead silent house.

(Danny's neighbors got a very unfortunate shock when he ran to the next house over in hysterics.)

There was a lot of shuffling around with CPS, the police. People had to be called in to handle the equipment in the lab, and the GIW was rumoring to show up in aid to clearing the scene. When Danny heard of that, he immediately went and dismantled the ghost portal to the best of his abilities. He burned the physical blueprints of all his parents' inventions, their blueprints on the ghost portal, and their most dangerous weapons were destroyed beyond recognition. Anything to prevent the GIW from getting their hands on his parents' tech.

It opened up another investigation, but he was not under the list of suspects. He was placed in the care of Vlad Masters, where they then went back to the rebuilt castle mansion in Wisconsin. Danny, terrified of the future that has once passed and may do so again, shuts down in his grief. Inadvertently, he ends up somewhat repressing his ghost half. Something Vlad, who is grieving Madeline but relishing in Jack's demise and his custody of Daniel, is not very happy with.

Vlad's... gone into a bit of a mental health spiral. He's becoming increasingly possessive over Daniel, the final remnants of his friends and a liminal being like him. He doesn't like that Danny's repressing his ghost half -- both out of genuine concern as a ghost, but also because of his desire to control Danny and groom him into the perfect son. If you ever had a phase where you read Dark SBI found family fics, first off; me too bro, and second off; those are the vibes I'm thinking of.

Danny's mentally shut down from grief! And fear. He's dropped into a bad depressive state -- paralyzed with grief and the terror of the inevitable. Clockwork saved his parents because he believes in second chances, but what's the point of that when his family ended up dead anyways? Danny doesn't wanna believe that he's destined to become evil, and he's holding out onto that hope, but it's a thin line, and he feels utterly hopeless and trapped. He hasn't used his powers or ghost form since he trashed the lab, and Vlad has alarms set up to prevent him from trying to escape.

He's also unintentionally cut off Sam and Tucker -- both of whom are so scared and concerned for Danny too, and are trying their damndest to reach out to him. He keeps ignoring their texts. Danny basically haunts Vlad's manor. He goes out to eat if he has to, attends parties Vlad drags him to, and stays in his room all day if he can.

At parties, Vlad doesn't allow Danny to leave his side, or really talk to anyone -- not that Danny wants to. A product of Vlad's increasing possessiveness. Well, he almost doesn't let Danny leave his side. Danny has a habit of slipping off to hide somewhere for the parties whenever he can, and Vlad reluctantly allows it so long as he stays alone.

This becomes an advantage when eventually, Bruce Wayne returns to Gotham after missing for years, and holds a bright charity ball to celebrate the return. Vlad has been chomping at the bits to get his hands on Wayne Industries, and with the return of its owner there is no better opportunity to wipe out his rival. He goes, and he as normal, brings Daniel with him.

Vlad thinks Wayne will bleed his little heart out for Daniel's poor orphan sob story -- he's a fellow orphan himself, after all. He's not wrong; Wayne's little heart will bleed, just not in the way that benefits him.

Bruce sees Vlad and Danny approaching before they're even close enough to introduce themselves - and like with many of the children he will soon come to care for, it's like someone set a mirror into the past right in front of him.

Danny Fenton's suit is tailor-made for him, and despite the fact that it's his perfect size, the sag in his shoulders, the ducked down head, and the way he hunches into himself all pictures the image of a child in shoes too big for him. There's a far away, glazed over look in his eyes and grief marble-cut into the lines of his face. There's not enough makeup in the world that will hide the dark circles under his eyes.

("My nephew, Daniel Fenton." Vlad's hands are possessive on Danny's shoulders. Bruce immediately notices the way the boy tenses under his touch. "His parents passed recently, and as his godfather I was designated his guardian.") ("I'm so sorry, the loss must've been terrible.") ("Yes, carbon-monoxide poisoning caused it. Daniel was out with friends, when he came home... they had already passed.") (Bruce immediately dislikes that Vlad shared the details of their death unprompted -- he likes it even less when Danny flinches at the reminder and hunches into himself.)

Danny runs off at some point earlier into the charity. At this point, parties are still being held at Wayne Manor (because iirc google search mentioned that was a thing at first before it was changed), so he disappears and hides in one of the empty rooms nearby. It just so happens to be the same room Bruce Wayne hides in when he needs a break from all of the socialization.

Thus begins a long, long process of trust. Bruce can't reveal his hand as being smarter than he looks, but he can be compassionate. Kindness needs no measure of intelligence. He keeps Danny company for as long as he can before he runs the risk of being found.

Rinse and repeat. Vlad insistently wants Wayne Industries, and he'll go to as many Wayne parties as he can to get his hooks into the man. The problem is that Bruce Wayne is never alone, and getting him alone is impossible. Finding him too. It's like the man never stops moving. Always talking to someone, always circling somewhere. He orbits around the room as if he isn't the sun of the Gotham Elite's solar system.

Danny's had such repetitive behavior that Vlad never thinks to believe that Bruce Wayne is disappearing to go talk to him. That "Vlad's" son is even interacting with him at all. Danny never gives him a reason to think so, and neither does Bruce.

Danny doesn't actually acknowledge Bruce until a handful of parties in, where he hands Bruce a small slip of paper he smuggled in that says; "don't trust Vlad". Danny's face stays carefully blank, but he's so tense that his hands are trembling, and he's purposely looking away from him. Bruce plasters a smile onto his face, slips the paper into his pocket, and tells him "okay".

(he's been busy with his own goals with the mafia, but he sets aside time to investigate Vlad Masters. He was holding off. Until now.)

Danny does eventually start speaking to Bruce, he's starting to really like the guy. He's starting to see a little hope, even as Vlad is starting to get more and more agitated with him the more he refuses to use his powers.

He reaches out to Sam and Tucker again, and starts trying to reconnect with them. Vlad has spyware on his phone, and he limits the amount of times he can talk to them. A weird parental control lock of some sort that leaves a time limit on how long he can talk to them for. 30 minutes. Danny doesn't tell them anything about Mr. Wayne.

Danny, slowly, wants out of here, and he's slowly gathering the motivation to do it. Vlad is genuinely scaring him -- and Danny wonders just how truthful the past-future Vlad was when he told him that Danny wanted his ghost half separate. He starts trying to come up with an escape plan.

Vlad has anti-ghost wards everywhere around the mansion, and while they're always on, they boost to full power at sunset. The doors and windows are always locked, all main exits have alarms set on them. The only reason it's not super extensive is because Danny hasn't tried leaving at all yet, so Vlad hasn't had to tighten anything.

At night, Vlad locks the door to his room and puts up an anti-ghost ward around the room. The mansion is on the outside westward side of Madison, more entrenched in rural Wisconsin. The closest town is a four-way stop sign with one house on three corners, and an open bar on the fourth. Not much to go.

He refuses to go to Sam and Tucker; Vlad would look there first. It's too dangerous. Vlad would sound alarm bells and have a manhunt looking for him, Danny can't risk going just anywhere. Too much risk of being found, sold out, or caught. There's really nowhere for him to hide.

Until there is. Bruce is telling Danny about the history of Wayne Manor, and says, as casually as saying the weather; "The manor has dozens of empty rooms, I'm sure Alfred wouldn't mind filling another one if he could." And quietly, hesitantly, Bruce places a careful hand on Danny's shoulder, unrestrictive and gentle; "He wouldn't mind getting one ready for you if you need one."

And there it is. There's his out.

Danny, just as quietly, replies; "I'll keep that in mind."

The ball starts rolling.

Now I've been trying to summarize this au as much as possible for length convenience, but Vlad has been steadily growing more and more controlling. More emotionally manipulative. More agitated at Danny for not using his powers.

He wants Wayne Industries under his thumb but he's been steadily growing more and more concerned with Danny. He's started grabbing him, yanking him around, shaking him; trying to goad him into using his powers. He gets angry when Danny doesn't react, or tells him he doesn't want to use his powers. He hasn't outright attacked him, but he's getting there. This has been happening over the time it takes for Bruce to indirectly offer Danny sanctuary at his home.

It all comes to a head when Vlad stops going to parties at all -- something Danny has to pretend he isn't upset about -- because Vlad doesn't want him around other people anymore. Vlad rarely goes now without him, and only leaves to go to a Wayne function or to handle something at VladCo.

Danny can't wait for Vlad to leave long enough to escape. So he leaves during the night of a big storm. Vlad's locked him in his room, but Danny doesn't bother trying to go for it; he goes to the alarmed window instead. Danny's been repressing his ghost half so long that he can't access his powers immediately anymore -- he can feel it, he knows its there, but he can't quite reach it.

He breaks the lock by hand.

Immediately the alarm goes off through the entire castle, filling the room with red, and he scrambles for the rope the Wisconsin Ghost left for him a few months back. Danny's already out and climbing down the side of the castle before Vlad even reaches his door -- the only good thing about the entire room being ghost-proof is that Vlad can't get in that way.

The rope ends before it reaches the bottom, and he's still twenty feet in the air. It won't kill him if he lands it right. Danny takes his chances, and drops. He breaks his ankle, but he survives.

And he fucking books it to the back garden. He hears Vlad shrieking over the thunder and rain.

I'll save the full experience for a future oneshot, but Danny makes it out into the nearby woods and forcibly experiences what it's like to be in a horror game, trying to hide from the thing that's hunting you. There's only one thing going through his mind; "i'm going to die"

I have this mental image for this scene. Very stereotypical horror imo. Where Danny is hiding behind a tree, with a hand over his mouth, and Vlad is a few feet away from him, glowing ominously red through the trees, trying to search for him.

Danny doesn't get away from this unscathed, but he does get away alive. That's all he could ask for. He gets away by getting his ghost half awakened long enough to transform into Phantom and fly to Gotham.

But he gets to Wayne Manor, he gets to Bruce. Or, at least, Alfred answers the door from his insistent pounding. Danny's just in tears and Alfred gets him in the living room, wrapped in a towel, with ice on his swollen leg before he has to step out and alert Bruce.

Bruce already breaks multiple traffic laws on a nightly basis. And that's just with the sheer existence of the batmobile itself, not including the speeding and military artillery attached. He breaks double the amount trying to speed back to the cave and get out of the suit.

Right off the bat: Bruce will know, at least before Dick enters the picture, about danny's powers. He'll figure out something considering the fact that Danny traveled from Wisconsin to New York in a single night. That'll be a bit of complicated affair, but I've already got something in mind.

Actually it'll probably be very soon after Danny joins the family, because Bruce tries to offer to fight for custody for Danny - the state Danny was in at arrival is clear enough evidence for a trial. But Danny immediately shuts it down, says it's not going to work and then Vlad will know Danny's with him and he won't be safe. He tells him that Vlad cannot know Danny was with Bruce.

Danny's biggest regret was not telling his parents he was a halfa, and while he doesn't want to tell mister wayne (yet), he does tell him about Vlad being one. He needs to know why Danny can't be seen with Bruce. So he tells him, and Danny's current plan is to just hide out from Vlad until he turns 18. That way, he has no more legal jurisdiction over him. After that? He's not sure.

And to wrap this up, since this has already gotten very long and I can make more posts about this au later; I've thought about it, and I'm going to say that Danny does become a vigilante before Dick enters the scene. He goes by, as you probably guessed; Nightingale. "Gale" for short.

[ricky-mortis]

Curtwen Week Day 6: Happy Ending

[fisheito]

I started reading beastars so now HE's reading beastars .wait

THEY'RE reading beastars

[deoidesign]

Someone killed my boss last night and he sent me this I'm so fired

god I can't wait to make this comic.

[metanarrates]

watched a majora's mask analysis earlier today with my fiancee. my verdict is that I actually really enjoyed the op's interpretations, but that I wished that they talked more about mm's literal level and what one can get from it, rather than talking about those events as if they are strictly metaphor. yes, of course the metaphorical layer of the game is rich to dig into, but it's also such an open-ended and surreal game that it's difficult to nail down every single distinct metaphor that can be derived from its events. which is why I consider it necessary to discuss the way the literal layer presents itself and what sort of motifs and ideas exist there as a baseline before you begin looking at it as metaphor

[dazzelmethat]

I kinda like but dislike that Rumiko and Sunrise (and fans) have never even mentioned that miko (priestesses) are virgins. And that their shinto ability to tend holy places comes from being unmarried virgins. In modern day I guess it is not really required but I kind of wish more people analyzed Kikyo, the dark priestess, Kaede and Kagome in that light.

Personally I think that due to the era Kagome would not be allowed to remain a miko after getting married and having a child. She would still be one of course due to her spiritual ability, but I think she would no longer be allowed to remain in that societal role.

Kagome is so spunky though that I see her rebelling against it. I think Kagome's strength in being outspoken is another great contrast between her and Kikyo. While Kikyo was confined by society and was only freed from expectation when she became an impure monster. Kagome was outspoken and loud to where she didn't have much of a societal role and yet remained 'spiritually pure.'

There is a huge theme of 'societal expectation' in Kagome, Inuyasha, and Kikyo that I think being a miko is a part of.

Personally I'm torn on Kagome loudly choosing to get married and have a child VS remaining a Miko and Kagome choosing to attempt to do both.

More thematic headcannons in the tag below..

[butterflies-and-bumble-bees]

.................

[captainsweet]

This is just going to be me ranting about something that particularly annoys me, so don't take it too seriously, but it drives me up a metaphorical wall.

But, the thing is, I just finished reading some new parts of a Rise fic I really liked, it was funny, and a good story sure, until I saw the word 'twin' be thrown around about five times in one chapter.

I honestly thought I was exaggerating, so I continued, and the word 'twin' just kept on appearing. So I just decided to count how many times it comes up just to see if I was being crazy, y'know?

In the course of a couple of chapters, the word, 'twin' is thrown around 64 different times. Not accounting for any notes, tags, or the latest chapter they posted since it wasn't an official one.

To make this clearer, the word twin, referring to Rise Donnie and Leo specifically, was mentioned 64 different times. One chapter holding 13 mentions of them being twins alone.

Now, I don't know why in the world it needed to be mentioned 64 different times, but hey, it's none of my business. And I really wouldn't be bothered if being twins wasn't their one specific trait, especially around each other.

And it only gets worse in the new chapters. Everytime they mention each other it's like they are incapable of not calling the other their twin, and.. this thing annoys me to my goddamn core.

It doesn't matter, I know that, but it's so annoying to see people make Donnie and Leo being twins their one special thing even though they're not even twins in the dang show. Normally that wouldn't bother me, and it doesn't, but for you to reduce a character to a trait they canonically don't even have is just bizarre.

I'm not gonna mention the writer, and I hate criticizing writers or artists like this in general, but it's so unbelievably mind numbing to see Donnie and Leo get reduced to being twins over and over again as if it actually matters? All it is, is the day they were born. That's it! That's all, yet so many people are obsessed with making it an important factor?

They are so much more than just twins, and have so much more to them than a couple of traits in the show. Yet so many people just, ignore that? Especially in some fics?

Not to mention in the particular story, Raph and Mikey hardly ever appear unless it's for the same couple of jokes, and just leaves me longing for more development on them but nope! Gotta shove some more twin content in there!

I have absolutely no problem with people liking the Disaster Twins, and making stories centered around them, but they are so much more than just twins, and so much more than their relationship with each other. They have other family members too, acknowledge them.

This is not only with this particular author, this has happened multiple times and it's just plain annoying. If you like Leo and Donnie more, just say that. There's no reason you should add their brothers in, and then just discard them to the point they don't even seem like they are siblings anymore. They're just close friends at that point, and it's just angering for me.

I don't see it all that much anymore, but so many people still make Leo and Donnie being 'twins' in Rise this big thing when they aren't even twins, and probably wouldn't mention the fact they are if they weren't explaining their ages because it literally means nothing in the end. They're just brothers that happened to be born on the same day, that's it.

I'm not a twin myself, so I obviously can't speak for actual twins, but even the twins I've known personally hardly mentioned the fact they were twins other than to make a couple of jokes here and then. In no world should them being twins be so important to you that it's mentioned 64 different times. That's just insane.

It is different than simply having a sibling, I get that. Being twins is definitely different in a way, and comes with different experiences, but it should never be that important to the point they mention it 13 TIMES IN ONE CHAPTER.

Skipping past the slightly serious part, 64 different times?? Would they, like, forget if they didn't say it? Fr 13 times in one conversation? I don't think I've even done that with my proclaimed Twin before, because that's, that's just crazy.

[rangerdew]

its so hard not to despair at the way the illustration community treats the conversation about "ai art"