#my fic is on hold bc I can't think of ideas for characters with actual personality and known facts but nah

[whistlingstarlight]

Bruh wtf is my brain I'll be actively trying to think about Racetrack or Mush or whoever and instead my brain goes

"Hmm... and what if we think about Kenny, hm?"

He's in like two fuckign scenes for a millisecond each time, Jack was Darcy more than he was Kenny😭

[artistsfuneral]

Hey, remember that really cool witcher fic I never wrote bc it's living rent free in my head? Yes this one:

Lambert gets captured by a mage, for some plot reason, and to avoid getting killed by the rightfully angry witcher, the mage curses Lambert's senses.

His vision is terribly blurry, think dark vignette around the corners, messy shapes, more a constantly shifting, wobbly mess than anything else. He can't see. It hurts to open his eyes because he can't even control his pupils anymore so light just gets in and - yeah it's not great.

He is deafened. A normal human would probably be unable to hear anything, but he's a witcher. It all sounds like his head is held under water. He can't make out any of the quiet noises and everything loud sounds distorted and really far away. Lambert is in a lot of danger.

He also can't talk. Not in words at least. He can growl and whine and scream and- He doesn't need to be able to hear himself to know that he sounds more like an animal.

The only thing the mage has left him with is his sense of smell (and touch). The idiot probably had no idea just how good a witcher's sense of smellcan be and it's Lambert's main tool of survival now.

So Lambert somehow manages to escape anyways - because it's Lambert and Lambert is awesome and there needs to be plot to this. But it's also winter and everything is just loud and bright and cold and oh gods what the fuck is he supposed to do?

He can't see anything. Light reflects off of snow and right into his blown out pupils, effectively blinding him. The sound of his boots against the snow is incredibly disorienting. Every crunch seems to echo in his ears and he can't make out anything else. There's only one way for him to go and it's foreward. Away from the smell of ozone and into the forest.

He stumbles and falls and gets up just to stumble all over again - he just wants to get away, it doesn't matter into which direction he's walking, as long as he's getting further and further away from that hellhole

And then he stumbles again, trips through the snow and down a goddamn cliff - thankfully the snow cushions his fall but yeah... He's not doing so peachy. He loses his consciousness (like all good characters do) and he thinks that's it, he's going to die in a heap of snow. He hopes his brothers won't think he fell on purpose. Despite how much he complains he would never actually leave them behind like this....

What Lambert doesn't know is that he's basically fallen into the temporary camp of the cat caravan. And they look at him and decide yes, they are going to keep this absolutely pathetic (broken, bloody, too thin, shivering, wet, barely alive) looking witcher.

When Lambert wakes, he panics (obviously) and his fight or flight kicks in hard. There's strangers all around him and they're trying to hold him down and they're strong and gods above this is fucking scary! And then- then his hand meets a familiar object. A medallion. He freezes up, clutches at the medallion like he's holding onto his own lifeline- and then a hand takes hold of his and leads it to another medallion and with his hand against their chests he can feel their witcher-slow heartbeats and oh thank fuck-

(i am procrastinating by writing this down, need to post it now or else i will be sitting here til tomorrow, avoiding my actual task but do let me know if you want to hear how this continues because yes theres a lot more of this in my brain)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A special sort of craving 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Summary: A stranger appears at your cafe and leaves you unsettled.

Part of the Backwood AU

Note: I found this in my docs and then I was like this could be an AU and people will hate me but here we are. I am heavily considering adding at least one other character to the AU bc I have an idea I don’t think i’ll ever get to full length with.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The man finishes his pie and milk. You continue on busying yourself with tasks you've already done. You don't want to welcome any more conversation with this stranger. He belches and pats his stomach loudly.

"Delicious," he comments as the chair legs scrape on the floor.

"Oh, glad you enjoyed it, sir," you look over the counter as you work at shuffling the pastries from oldest to newest in the display.

"Mmhmm," he hums emphatically, "so, do I get table service or..."

You hide your chagrin behind a smile and close the back of the display, "of course."

You push through the little swinging door and come out to gather up his empty dishes. He watches you as you do your best not to acknowledge that fact. You just want him gone so it's quiet again. Usually, you'd mourn the lack of business but you don't welcome his.

"So, your husband must be the numbers guy, huh? Handling all the heavy duty work?" He intones as he bends his arms behind his head and stretches.

"No," you say as you back away.

"No.... what? He doesn't do your accounting or no you don't have a husband?"

"It's my business. I manage it," you insist.

"Right," he drops his arms and shifts on the seat, "think I should get a coffee for the road. Long way back to The Grove."

"Of course," you retreat behind the counter and set the dishes in the bin for washing. "Which roast?" 

He clicks his tongue, "hmph, you're... very attentive. That husband sure is a lucky man." He stands and dusts off his shirt, "I'll take the rest of that cherry pie too."

You nod and face him, "what size and roast?" You prompt again.

"Light roast, large-- hold up, actually, I'll take an americano. I could use the pep."

"Sure," you slide off a tall cup from the stack and go to work.

He watches you, his gaze bearing down as hotly as the steam of the hot water. You fill his cup and return to the till to ring him up. You punch in the amount for the espresso and what's left of the pie. He taps his fingers on the counter, a fifty folded between his knuckles. He holds it out and you go to take it as the drawer snaps open. He hangs on to it, keeping you in a tug-of-war.

"Keep the change. You earned it," he winks.

"Oh, that's too generous," you say.

"I can be," he smirks.

He lets go and you count out his change. He sighs and leans on the counter, "I said keep it, honey bun."

"Really, it's too much--"

"Can't be making much in this place," he says, "go on, buy yourself something pretty."

You look at him, scrunching up your lips with a gulp. You drop his change in the tip jar. He scoffs in victory.

You pack up the pie and slide it across to him. He clings to your every move as he blows over the cup of coffee. He grabs a lid and clicks it on.

"I'll save a piece for you," he promises, "in case you change your mind."

He takes the box and winks. He struts to the door and balances the cup on the flat box as he lets himself out into the street. You chew your lip and quickly turn your attention to the counter. Those city types just stick out like a sore thumb.

🥧

The routine of your work quickly wipes the strange encounter from your mind. Early mornings filled with steam and the scent of cinnamon swirl by in a cloud. Melinda helps set out that day’s pies as you put on the coffee to brew. There’s usually an opening rush, as much as you get in a place like this.

Eden and Frigga enter with a jingle of the bell above and you greet them with a smile. They always come on Friday. You already have their order started as Melinda cashes them out. An oat latte with vanilla and cinnamon for Eden and simple black tea for Frigga. And a peach crumble to go, her first son’s favourite, Frigga proclaims each time.

That morning, however, she surprises you with a different comment. A question.

“Darling,” she stops you at the window as she grasps the wire handles of the paper bag, “are you available tomorrow night?”

“Pardon?” You bat your lashes in surprise.

“I’m sorry for my abruptness,” she touches the collar of her crisp white blouse coyly as Eden inhales the smell of her latte. “We’re having a special dinner and you did such a marvelous job last yule.”

“A dinner?” You wonder, “I suppose I could ask Carla if she can pick up an extra shift.”

“That’s wonderful. Apologies for short notice. It’s only we have an unexpected guest at the hotel, she does have particular tastes and it’s Thor’s birthday. He wants to celebrate. I have a list,” she sifts around in her handbag, “I may have been a touch presumptuous. He’s hoping for a cheesecake, rather than sponge. Oh and the younger one, he said it’s too rich so some of your shortbread shall do for the dissidents.”

“Right,” you accept the piece of paper as she unfolds it. It wafts with perfume as you read her elegant cursive. “I should be able to do most of it. I’ll need to do a run for some of the savoury ingredients… what time?”

“Oh if you could arrive at three or four, that would allow for set up and some last minute details. Oh, could you also make sure you and your little helpers wear red? Thank you so much, dear,” she reaches into her handbag again, “a deposit, of course.”

She hands you a check, signed by her husband. You’ll have to take this to the bank but you won’t mention the trouble to her. You smile and tell her you’ll figure it out. She claims her tea and crumble and sets off with Eden on their weekly excursion.

“I can’t do Saturday. Husband’s mother’s comin’ round,” Melinda says over the till as you approach her, “Carla was talkin’ about some party too.”

You frown and chew your lip. You suppose you could ask Katherine. She’s always eager to help, even with her meagre two shifts a week.

“Right, no problem,” you smile, “nothing you need to worry about.”

“I can help with some prep today. Do some shopping with Carla’s in for the afternoon.”

“Sounds good,” you fold up the list and the check and tuck it into your apron.

You grab a receipt and start on the next order. It’s a single tea latte; the blueberry oat. You go through the motions and bring it to the counter, calling out the item. A woman you’ve seen around sways as she sends a glance to a man still in line. You don’t recognise him, another new face. She shies away as he returns her gaze and she quickly scurries to claim her drink.

She gives a tiny wave as she comes up, “um, sorry, er, to eavesdrop,” she murmurs and you lean in to hear her, “if you need some help, I could do some… stuff.”

“Oh, uh…”

“Just for the night?” She pleads, “sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, no, that’s nice,” you assure her, “you live with your grandmother, right? Up behind the ridge.”

“Yeah,” she squeaks, “we could use the money.”

“Sure, not many jobs to go around in Hammer Ford,” you sniff, “can you be here for one?”

“Uh,” she peeks over again at the man by the register. The way he watches her makes you uneasy.

“Yeah,” she answers shakily, “I’ll be here. Thank you so much.”

“You know what, we have a special on, how about you sit and have a scone,” you offer.

“Um…”

“You got a far way back, you should enjoy your latte,” you insist, eyeing that man again.

“Okay,” she agrees easily. Too easily. That man is listening, he must notice that as well.

“You go sit down and I’ll bring you the scone,” you smile again, “if you stick around, we can chat a bit about tomorrow when it slows down.

“Oh, yeah, makes sense,” she accepts, “thank you so much.”

She turns and awkwardly moves around another customer. She weaves her way to the corner and sits at a table alone, cradling her cup daintily. You’ll have to keep her in the kitchen.

[moonyasnow]

Ship Intro: Catonica

Stickers made by Reddit user u/shingfun1984 And the art in the middle by @gingacat ~ ^^

Sadly no fics this time bc finding Cater fics with only him and no other characters was really hard ; ;

And the ones I DID find weren't similar to Veronica at all...

Spotify list:

IT'S TIMELINE TIME BBY

T I M E L I N E :

They met when, during her first year, Victor and Veronica were invited to an unbirthday party. Veronica wasn't gonna go. But then Victor got sick. So he asked her to go to bring back sweets for him.

She ended up sitting next to Cater.

And immediately, there was something about him that made her lower her guard a bit. She'd caught on pretty quick that he was putting on a façade, even though she didn't have words for it.

She just felt…softer, around him than most other people, somehow. There was something that that made her want to look twice at him.

He asked about their MagiCam— they said they didn't have one. They're from Briar Valley, so of course they didn't. He said he HAD to change that— And for some reason she said 'sure'. She had no idea why. She could've just figured out how to make one herself. But she sat down next to him after the party and asked:

"So? Were you gonna make me an account or not?"

(She had a tiny tiny crush right away— not like she let herself wonder what that feeling of ants walking around in her stomach she got around him was. No, she actively kicked it down)

After helping Veronica make a MagiCam account, teaching her about the features. And he added himself as her first MagiCam friend!

Then she was banned from Heartslabyul entirely after pissing off Riddle a bit too much.

The incident in question had been her standing up for Cater during an incident where one of the then 3d years was clearly making him uncomfortable. The scene she caused, literally asking said 3d year:

"You wanna fight, is that it? Because I won't hold back." Was deemed bad enough to see both Veronica and the other student collared, and Veronica permanently forbidden from stepping foot in Heartslabyul Dorm.

Rook managed to convince Vil not to punish her for it seeing as she was trying to stand up for someone else, but she still ended up wearing a collar for an entire week. It was utterly humiliating; not because she didn't want people to know she pissed Riddle off- she couldn't care less about that- but to be wearing a collar at all: something meant to show someone as being 'tame'. She absolutely hated it.

Cater and Trey ended up being able to talk Riddle into removing it. That...really caught them off guard. She was expecting to have to deal with it herself— it's not like she'd ever go to anyone else for help with it, not even Vil or Rook. Dealing with things herself was just what she did. It's what they'd always had to do.

When he said he was just returning the favor after they stood up for him, they scowled and said:

"I didn't do it for your sake. I just can't stand people who gang up on others."

And walked away.

At some point Cater had gotten roped into a production the Movie Appreciation/Film Research Club was putting on, partially due the boost in likes he could get from featuring THE Vil Schoenheit on his MagiCam, and he ended up seeing Veronica working back-stage on her designs. He thought they looked really cool actually.

She noticed him checking out her sketchbook, and she asked to take his measurements (more like said 'come here' and pulling a measurement band around him lol) but she said it was just for the club.

But she started sketching him in her free time for some reason. Just because he was photogenic, she thought. Or just because they wanted a general vibe of what kind of clothes would look good on him if he were to volunteer for the Film Research Club again, as an actor this time.

But before she knew it half her sketchbook was FILLED with him. In all kinds of outfits, though leaning somewhat edgy (think the My Chemical Romance Black Parade outfits).

Cool, somewhat edgy or 'out-there'— lots of dark colors, but also ones that go well with the colors of his features.

Once, he had to keep himself from laughing at a joking observation she made. She started trying to joke more around him. Even though her 'jokes' were really just blunt, dry, sarcastic and even somewhat mean remarks about other people. When he laughed, sometimes she couldn't stop her lips from quirking up into a quick, proud smile. He caught this exactly once, and asked:

"OMG. Was that a smile I saw? Did grumpy ol' Ronnie just smile?"

They just sighed and said:

"Shut up."

But he kept teasing them about it, finding out they were actually really easy to tease.

They were trying so, so, SO hard to convince themselves they only kept thinking about him because he was around often due to helping out with their club and he gave her inspiration for new outfits (never once considering the cause and effect might be reversed).

The messages he'd send them on MagiCam didn't help take their thoughts off of him.

And Veronica started going to see all of Cater and the rest of the Pop Music Club's shows. All the ones he invited her to, at least. She wasn't really interested in most of the pop music they played, though now and then she found one she kinda liked. When she started learning how music streaming worked, those songs were some of the first she searched for.

She was upset when he didn't invite her to one because he thought it'd interfere with her schedule. They still came, though.

"Oh, Ronnie~! You came to see me play?"

"Hmph(affermative). Not like you invited me or anything."

"I thought you were busy today!"

"I finished early."

Lies. She actually just straight up skipped her prior plans at the last second to go see him play. She'd heard about it from a dorm-mate of hers.

It was then he realized that her tone was, somehow, even more harsh than usual.

He realized she was upset he hadn't invited her. But they still showed up. He wondered if that was because they wanted to see him, or they wanted to see the show…

Previously she'd always been really hesitant to let him touch her, literally jerking away before he could.

But one day they just kinda…leaned their shoulder against his while they were both sitting down watching something.

Then later the same day he put his chin on her shoulder to check what she was sketching. He thought for a moment it was him…so he made a joke about it looking kinda like him, and he saw her face flush as she put her hand on his face to lightly push him back, and she said:

"Ha! You wish."

(Lies again. She was sketching him. But weirdly enough, the inspiration for the outfit— why, they told themselves, they'd been sketching him in the first place— just wouldn't come)

When the end of his time helping out the film research club came to an end, Veronica kinda panicked to find a reason to still stay in touch with him.

'To get inspiration for more sketches' she always told herself.

She ended up doing research on events on Sage Island, trying to see if there was anything he might consider going to.

Just to send a flyer his way, in case he was interested. (Of course. Not like they wanted him to ask her to go with too, of course not.)

It was a punk rock concert.

She just kinda went for it, handing him the flyer, saying she just found it somewhere, thought maybe it'd be something he'd be into. Then she just left without saying another word.

He ended up asking if she'd go with him, saying in advance that she didn't need to sweat it if she couldn't, since he knew she'd be busy with sewing stuff for her club (a detail she, so caught up in the task of finding something he might like, had actually forgotten—)

She just wrote:

[ Sure. Hall of Mirrors at 16? ]

To which he replied:

[ 👍👍👍👍👍👍 ]

That was the first time he saw her wearing something other than her school clothes.

And when Cater 'jokingly' flirted with them, saying they looked 'Really hot'…it seems like she was the only one Cater's flirting had any kind of effect on, because her face exploded in color and the tips of her ears suddenly caught fire.

She obviously didn't react to it PURPOSEFULLY, but she got flustered.

"!! Hmph." [they looked away, arms crossed, trying to act like they didn't care] "Whatever."

When hanging out one day, he eventually suggested modeling for her clothes, trying to play it off as some sort of mutually beneficial thing, where she'd get more attention having someone as big as him modeling her clothes, and he'd get more content for his MagiCam in general.

So she bought a camera and found out, with Rook's help, how to transfer the images to her phone to be able to upload them to MagiCam.

She called the first line of clothes 'Rough-Cut'— secretly, after his surname 'Diamond': the working title was 'rough-cut gem' but she took out the last word, partly because rough-cut was snappier, and also because she didn't want it to be obvious she made all those clothes with him in mind.

She also sprinkled in Epel and Victor as her models here and there to not make it TOO obvious. But she couldn't stop thinking Cater was the only one who TRULY fit them.

Her chest felt jittery taking the pictures of him, seeing him look straight at her through the lense.

But she just ignored it.

And of course she tagged him in all the photos

And he was allowed to repost them to his account too

He started inviting her to go to various places with him he'd seen were trendy— partly to be his new camera-man, since it seemed she had a bit of a talent for getting good angles, and also so she could get new inspiration

But really… They were dates. In everything but name, at least.

And though she was flustered about it and ACTED 'upset' she let him take as many pictures of her as he wanted. At some point it'd just become commonplace to see her all over his MagiCam, always wearing the same halfway annoyed expression, but still looking at the camera.

And whenever they ordered something, she'd always order something she knew he'd like. Then as soon as he'd taken the pictures he needed for MagiCam, she switched their orders. She never said why, just grabbed whatever sweet piece of cake or other dessert he'd ordered and started eating, sliding her own order over to him. She even tried ordering something without sugar as often as she could.

When he asked them why, all they ever said was:

"I didn't want mine."

She even started really playing along eventually— doing a bunch of artful poses with him. Just hoping he didn't realize how quickly her heart was beating in some of the poses that had them being really close to each other.

And for some reason...they started becoming annoyed when he'd jokingly flirt with other people, even if they knew he wasn't serious. (they REFUSED to admit to themself WHY they felt annoyed by it.)

Him 'jokingly' saying she was the only one he was serious about made her so flustered she didn't know what to do with herself but just mutter incomprehensible gibberish and 'shut up' before turning her head away from him.

It made her chest hurt in the best way, shivers tingling through her scalp and neck as she thought about his words.

But when he came up behind her to hug her, she let him. She was relieved he couldn't see her face— they knew it was flushed bright red. They asked:

"W-why—"

As though they'd cut themselves off.

He buried his face in their neck and said:

"Because I wanted to. Because you're cute."

"Hmph."

Was their response. But they let him stay there, trying to ignore how much the feeling of his breath against her skin was giving her goosebumps. And they just turned their head to the side, trying to make it even harder for him to see her face, unintentionally exposing more of their neck to him in the process.

His instinct in that moment seemed to be, for some reason, to kiss her neck. He had to quite literally stop himself just a second before he could do it.

[ Cater realizes 'crap I REALLY like her'. But since he's not sure they like him back he just keeps acting the way he always has, but maybe holding her a little closer in any pictures they take together. And he takes more pictures together in general. But not all of them end up on his MagiCam. Some he just keeps for himself. ]

So that's where they're currently at, around a year and a half into knowing each other

F U T U R E :

I think, what makes Veronica eventually admit to liking him is when he's been feeling pretty bad, and just invites her over to hang out, trying to pretend everything's ok. But then when it's time for her to go back home, he just…kinda can't hide how bad he's feeling anymore, and he asks her to stay longer, holding her hand tightly.

When he finally really lets his guard down and says 'please…' she's just hit with a floodwave, realizing how much her heart hurts seeing him look so sad, and so scared she'll go…

She agrees to stay without a second thought. She hadn't even brought anything with her— not her toothbrush, not clothes to sleep in, not even makeup or makeup remover.

But now that she knows what he needs is for her to stay there, she won't move from his sight for even a second, only asking him to turn around when she switches into one of his shirts to sleep in.

They both sleep on the couch that night. And they're holding him as tightly as they possibly can, a wet patch having formed on the shirt just underneath her collar bone from where he'd cried.

And as they drift off to sleep, they finally admit to themselves:

[ 'I love him' ]

After that, though they don't really say it, they can both tell something has changed between them.

Veronica is way softer too, having basically entirely given up trying to act or be cold or push him away. The grumpy expression exchanged with a neutral one when it's just the two of them.

When he starts kissing her on the cheek...she's embarrassed, but so long as they're in private, she'll kiss his cheek too. Her face here is bright red, ears on fire, but also looks the most vulnerable he'd ever seen her. And he's the only one who gets to see that face. And even as things progressed further than cheek kisses and Veroncia became more comfortable with affection, Cater still always saw sides of them no one else would ever get to see.

It's not like they ever really defined what they were...just having this mutual, unpsoken sense that the other was the one they'd wanna spend their life with. And Cater started calling her 'babe'. And though most of her affection was reserved for when they were in private, they never denied or tried to hide their relationship, not even for a second.

She prefers keeping affection and the actual details of their relationship private, since it's not something she thinks anyone but her and Cater should get any say in— it's not for anyone else; it's just for— but when she's asked if she has someone, she'll say yeah. She won't bring up his name directly, but if someone else does, she'll still say that yeah, it's him.

They don't get married or have kids, just because they don't really want to. They feel perfectly fine just as they are.

@another-random-paradise @thehollowwriter @faefum @cactus13-rolloflammesimp @beneathsakurashade

@nyx-of-night @theolivetree123 @babyghoul138 @skibidibabygirl @screamintoad

@gingacat @buttholesparkles @angelwishess @scint1llat3

[lord-squiggletits]

Thinking about IDW Optimus again and the fandom's aversion to even acknowledging he exists bc he's a cop or whatever and like. Most of the time people literally just replace him in fic with some white bread knockoff archivist/librarian, not even bothering to keep in IDW OP's personality (which just bolsters my theory that the problem isn't him being a cop the problem is that he's too multifaceted but I digress).

And it's annoying because you could totally write IDW Optimus as not a cop while still keeping his canon personality. You just have to realize that the reason IDW OP became a cop in the first place is because his formative experiences when he was young shaped him to basically have two priorities: 1. To help people and 2. To do it by being on the ground actively doing something about the bad things happening to people.

IDW OP would not be a fucking librarian or archivist because even though those are noble pursuits that can help people and change the world, and Optimus is educated/smart enough for the profession, he wouldn't be satisfied just teaching people or spreading information about activism or social-historical studies or whatever. He's a mech of action: he needs to be doing things right now, in front of him, to people he sees/interacts with in his own eyes, improving society with concrete actions rather than indirect action or abstract inspiration.

So basically the alternate job ideas I can think of for IDW Optimus are something like being a firefighter (or any first responder really) or even whatever the equivalent would be to international charity organizations, those ones that send volunteers across the world to do stuff like build housing/infrastructure or distribute food or whatnot. I mean I can't imagine that the equivalents to these things would be exactly the same in IDW Cybertron, so you'd have to get a little creative with it, but these are just some ideas of jobs that would fit IDW Optimus' personality while still filling the niche of "not a cop" for people who are just that opposed to it.

Though I think the revulsion against coptimus is annoying in general tbh because IDW is already a continuity that rejects the idea of easily defined good/evil people or groups. It feels like people really want Optimus to be a good person in a very sanitized and academically approved way, so he has to be nice and squeaky clean but also like, a perfect leftist who knows theory and holds the most progressive opinions on every single issue....

There is no room for the idea that good people join bad institutions, there's no room for the idea that the reason people think cops are good guys who help people is bc of the government propaganda everything is saturated with. Hell there's even later issues of the Optimus Prime series by John Barber where Optimus like, MULTIPLE FUCKING TIMES, is shown in flashbacks grappling with the fact that he as a cop/Zeta's regime that he works for might not actually be improving society like they say they are, and dealing with the fact that he feels more like a lesser evil compared to the Decepticons (perhaps not "lesser" at all).

It's like there's this idea in fandom of like, fictional media and opinions on media having to strictly adhere to progressive ideals at all times. So people just go "cops bad, this character is a cop, therefore they suck" without being willing to engage with the idea of like. IDW OP is born wanting to fight injustice and protect people -> a good way to protect people is to fight the people who are hurting them and committing crimes -> surely following the law is a reliable moral code to guide him in this -> becomes a cop because he's been indoctrinated into a society (much like our own) where he was told that the state/the law exist to protect the people and being a cop means you get to fight bad guys that hurt people. There's really so many interesting concepts there that could be (and CANONICALLY IS) explored about how good, well-intentioned people can be led to harmful actions simply because they have been fed the idea that the things they're doing are good/helpful/noble. Which is especially important for a character like Optimus, I think, who has a cultural icon status as The Irrefutable and Perfect Good, so it's really important actually to use IDW Optimus as an example of how even the most noble people you know have held problematic beliefs or done bad things at some point in their life. You know, because no one is born perfect and ideologically pure, and in fact society is constructed in exactly a manner to make people drink the kool-aid and believe that the systems designed to hurt them/others are just a normal, if flawed, society.

I mean the writing in IDW literally has Optimus deal directly and indirectly with the harm he's done as a cop and how people don't/didn't trust him because of that. I don't know what the fuck else this fandom wants if the source material literally saying "OP realizes that cops suck and he hurt people and earned their disdain by doing the things he did" doesn't stop them from going EW cop bastard sucks and is the worst Optimus. Like the narrative barely stops short of outright saying ACAB and Optimus himself would agree with this sentiment.

At that point, the collective fandom beef with IDW OP isn't because he's a cop and the narrative didn't do enough to condemn that. The problem is literally just that people don't read and don't care

TLDR: Consider the fact that good people can do bad things sometimes especially when living from birth in a corrupt society that thoroughly disguises its vices/oppressive structures as completely normal parts of existence

[aurorafables]

From the Grey, Chapter 1.

Let's get is started. :) I'm very excited, and I hope you will like it bc I loved to write it.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Nicholas Ruffilo

Warnings: 18+, Explicit, Angst, Past character death, Suicidal thoughts

Tags: M/M, Slow burn, Childhood friends, Friends to lovers, Family drama, Band fic

Word Count: 4.2k

Cross-posted: AO3

Author's note: This was originally written in Hungarian, and I'm still looking for a proofreader, so please forgive me the mistakes, strange expressions. Hope it's still enjoyable. Let me know, what do you think. :) Also let me know if you want to be tagged in the upcoming parts :)

Summary: In Noah's life, his best friend was the light, the way out of the abuse he suffered at home. After a childhood full of trauma, in which he was stripped of his wings so many times, he moves in with Nick, whose goal is to let him fly. The band, Bad Omens, led by Noah, begins to soar, which brings at least as many problems as joy. As teenagers grow into men, Noah and Nick drift closer and closer to each other, and the boundaries of friendship and love completely merge.

Chapter 1.

It would be difficult to say exactly when it started. It was as if the dynamic between the two of us had completely changed without being noticed. I could compare it to when I'm doing a tattoo and I want to create a nice color gradient to make the design look as realistic as possible. The point is that you can't tell where one color ends and the other color begins. Even between us, the transition from wanting to hug him in a friendly way to kissing him passionately was imperceptible.

Maybe I woke up like that one day, but it's also possible that the desire had been brewing in me for weeks, months, years, I just blocked it deep down. And what if I felt that little spark the first time we met, but I was still almost a child and couldn't identify it? I have to start this story somewhere. And like most fairy tales, it didn't start well. The mood of the whole band was cast by melancholy over the loss of a friend. But like all dead artists, Keaton remained immortal. His voice will live forever on the records, despite the fact that he was not with us anymore. The music of Too Close To Touch mingled with the cohesive low murmur of the crowd outside in the club's concert hall, where Keaton's vocals echoed painfully through the walls. "Death is not a game with the ones I hold close She was mine, mine, you can't deny Three years is too quick to die"* All his anger, all his pain were in the song he wrote about his little sister, who died lying on a hospital bed. In the text, he blamed God for choosing little Eiley over him. The poor boy had no idea at the time that they were both chosen… Personally, I would have liked to break something if I remembered that he was gone now, and I could only reassure myself that maybe they were already up there together. If it even exists up there. Because what if up there is actually only two meters underground?

The song didn't come at the best moment, because we had to go on stage right after, and I might be able to hide my mood in front of the audience… I glanced at Noah and my heart sank when I saw him banging his head against the wall, clutching the microphone in his hand, next to the stage, which we will soon have to walk up to. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, which I completely forgot to do in parallel. I was so worried about him. I knew he'd hate himself for that if his voice cracked while singing the opening lines of The Death Of Peace Of Mind. His maximalism was what he could torture himself with the most. Also, he had to be up there alone at the beginning of the song, we didn't join until later. I walked to him and gently put my hand on his shoulder, but I still managed to scare him a little because he pulled away before he opened his eyes. When he saw me, he almost snuggled back into my hand. It reminded me of my very first cat, the little black ball of fur I found on the street when I was barely ten. I named him Dusk because of his color and when he came to us I did everything I could to fatten him up. We slept together in my bed at night, because his soft purr always lulled me to sleep quickly. It was amazing how much Dusk and Noah were alike. Even in the semi-darkness next to the stage, my best friend's dark brown eyes glistened with unshed tears, which he tried to quickly blink away. His shoulders slumped forward in the thin linen jacket, and I'd bet his fingers were white under the faux-leather glove he wore on his left hand, clutching the microphone like a lifeline. He and Keaton were very close. In the last two years, they spent a lot of time together, especially during and after the Covid epidemic, when it was possible to travel. Even when they were far away, they kept in touch on a daily basis. Keaton was good with all of us, but he had a stronger bond with Noah. He wanted to remember him by playing their songs during the break after our opening band, but Eiley's song has never come at such a bad time.

“We can extend the time for five more minutes,” I told him, and meanwhile I looked back at Jolly, who was still fiddling with his headphones with the help of a sound technician, and Folio was deep in his own thoughts drumming on the wall, sometimes doing shoulder circles as a warm-up. "Everything's fine," Noah replied in a weak voice, to which I nodded hesitantly, lowered my hand, and took a step back. "I'm worthless to the world You're innocent and pure God, why didn't you choose me over her?”* They signaled to Noah, who gave a thumbs up as if everything was fine. Nonsense. I knew nothing was okay. Keaton's voice faded outside and soon the intro to our song began. I looked down at my guitar and after stretching my fingers I strummed a few chords just to pass the time. When Noah walked out and the crowd cheered, he wasn't as lost as he had been two minutes ago. He immediately filled the stage and sang like a fucking siren without faltering. I shook my head, feeling a little angry at myself for constantly underestimating him. It was about time to get used to that Noah wasn't ruined by all the crap that happened around him. On the contrary, it only strengthened him even more.

Two months later, I was sitting on the steps of the tour bus in Phoenix, beer in one hand and a half-smoked cigarette in the other, when I heard Noah's footsteps behind me. After a concert he liked to clear his head, so I thought he was going for his usual walk and I thought that I could join. I stood up to let him go, and when he stepped next to me, I was hit by the smell of his perfume. He had just stuffed his wallet into the back pocket of his pants, so I began to suspect that he had other plans for that evening. “Karin is in the city,” he said to me, but he didn't look at me, just watched the night lights. The blue neon lights of the bar glistened on the brunette's hair, and the tattoos running down his arms coiled around his skin like snakes. I thought I still had time. I thought I could figure something out before they met again in Salt Lake City. I blew out the last of the smoke, extinguished the butt, then slipped out of my denim jacket and held it out to him. “We will leave in the morning, be here by then.” Noah hesitantly took my jacket and looked at me. “That's it?” he asked in disbelief. I don't know what he expected. Maybe to remind him again that woman is crazy like hell? "I'm tired," I confessed to him. ”I can't save you from someone whose arms you keep running into. But I can do something to save you from catching a cold,” I gestured towards the jacket. He still didn't move, even though the situation was becoming more and more pressing for me, and the spring night wasn't nearly warm enough to keep me from getting goosebumps. I wrapped my arms around myself and hobbled in place. I kicked small stones with my boots on the asphalt of the parking lot and waited. I didn't care if I froze there, I wouldn't leave Noah alone as long as he needed me. The boys' laughter could be heard from inside the bus, a car honked on the street not far from us. I raised my head and immediately met a pair of dark eyes. Stared. I don't know how long or why. I swear he didn't even blink. Then he reached out and touched my arm under the sleeve of my shirt. “You are cold.” I blinked a few times, then started to move. I took the jacket from his hands and draped it over his shoulders. “But you don't have to be cold,” I answered him with an encouraging smile. “Everything will be okay. I will be okay,” he said quietly and gloomily. I don't know which of us he wanted to convince with this, but it didn't work. The smile immediately melted off my face. “Noah…” It's been a long time since my voice sounded so desperate when I said his name. I think all my fear must have been on my face because Noah took a step back and shook his head. I was ready to try again to get him to stay. We could have done so many things. From walking to sitting down to play video games with the boys. Or we could have gone to a nightclub to drink and to flirt with girls. Whatever, just don't let that cunt touch him again… He brushed his hair back and shrugged as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I have to go, Nick. We will talk in the morning.” And that was it. There was nothing I could do to keep him there.

I got home from the tattoo salon late that night and was so tired that all I could think about was my bed. But as soon as I stepped through the door, the strong smell of weed hit me. It went through the small apartment so intensely that I almost got sick of it. "Shit," I muttered to myself as I kicked off my shoes, dropped my bag on the floor, and headed for the bedroom with the goal of scolding Noah. The door was not locked on the little hole we called the bedroom, which was completely filled with my bed and the mattress that Noah had been sleeping on for months. When I entered, he was sitting on the bed, knees pulled up to his chin, and he was holding a weed cigarette between his long, thin fingers. As if he had completely forgotten about it, the ash fell onto my blanket and I was amazed that it hadn't caught fire yet. Noah didn't even notice I got home because he was listening to music on his earphones, and I was sure he was just physically in the room by the way he looked. I leaned towards him, took the cigarette from his fingers and crushed it in the ashtray. With that, I finally drew attention to myself, because after he looked up at me tensely, with red eyes. The Asian features of his face came to life, which normally I would have stared in fascination, but this was not a normal case. I forgot I wanted to yell at him for wasting the weed and almost setting our apartment on fire. Because by then we both owned that little flat. In the corner, next to my guitar, there was also his. Noah's things appeared in the bathroom, his shampoo, his toothbrush, he got half of my wardrobe and sometimes half of my bed… His clothes were just as messily scattered as mine, and he already had his favorite mug, from which he preferred to sip his coffee in the morning. I wanted to think that his eyes were red from smoking weed, but when he spoke, I had no doubt that he must have been crying for hours.

"I thought you'd come home earlier today," he said in a nasal tone after stopping the music and taking out his earphones. In the meantime, I opened the window without holding him responsible for why he did not do so. “I thought so too,” I answered him, then I fell down on the bed next to him. ”Another guest came at seven, and thought I would do miracles in two hours with an old, messed-up tattoo.” Noah nodded, then slowly stretched out his infinite legs. He was only sixteen then, but already a little taller than me. We sat speechless for a while and looked at each other. I was even more overcome by fatigue, and for a moment my eyes were probably closed too long while blinking, because I was jolted when Noah moved next to me. He took a deep breath, then let it out shakily. Our tattooed arms touched and I could feel the tremors running through his bones as he reached for his phone. Oh my god, he was so skinny. If I touched his arms, I was afraid I would crush him as if his limbs were made of thin glass fibers. “I got a message,” he whispered into the dimness, then put the phone on my thigh. I picked it up with a scared heart and started reading. I had a guess of what it might be, and honestly… I just didn't understand why it didn't come sooner. At first, Noah's mother tried to lure her son back to her side with sweet, but poisoned words, which in the end turned into mere threats. Every fucking word she wrote made me feel nauseous. “After half a year, she remembered that she had an underage son. Maybe she expects some kind of reward for it?” I asked, but mostly I meant it as a poetic question.

Noah tensed up next to me and started breathing faster. “I… I can't go back there. If… if you say I have to go back to her, I… rather… I…” "Hey Noah, I would never say that," I turned to him and tried to speak in the most soothing voice possible. But I was too late… By that time, tears were already falling, and he was clutching the crumpled bottom of his two-size-larger shirt. I was totally in shock because I had never seen anything like this before. What kind of friend is who doesn't recognize that the problem is so big? Noah was an old soul with a lot of shit and loss behind him, who blended in perfectly with the adults, so I tended to forget that he was still just a kid. But now there was a child next to me who was terrified. Whom fear brought out the worst. "I shouldn't be here," he said between sobs, to which I shook my head so fast that my hair hit my cheek. I knelt on the bed, turned to face him and tried to remove his fingers from his clothes. I just wanted to hold his hand… I just wanted him to know I was with him. “Noah…No! Don't tell me this!” I protested loudly, but he didn't listen to me. It's like he didn't even hear what I said. Instead, he drove himself deeper and deeper into madness. “I should have died a long time ago…years ago.” If he had only stabbed a dagger into my stomach with his words, this was the moment he twisted it. My chest felt tight and I couldn't breathe. Noah snapped his head back hard and his skull hit the wall loudly. After that, I couldn't focus on my own panic anymore, without thinking I put my hand on his head to protect him from himself. I didn't care that I might not be able to tattoo. My fingers ached as they met the hard wall, but I didn't really notice the pain. All I cared about was Noah and how I could keep him safe. I've been trying to figure out how to fix this. His cries and animalistic whining still ring in my ears, mixed with the sound of my heart's frantic beating. I wrapped my arms around his head and pulled him close as he just cried and cried, his tears completely soaking my shirt. He was hugging my thighs as I knelt next to him, finally not wanting to hurt himself anymore.

That night, I only left his side when I brought him water from the kitchen. Then we both got into bed and Noah turned to face me, but half of his red face from crying was hidden in the pillow and the other half was covered by his hair. I quickly got rid of my tight jeans, threw them on the side of the bed and took his phone in my hand. He was watching what I was doing, but he didn't speak. First, without any guilt, I deleted his mother's message, then opened his music. It didn't surprise me that he was listening to Castle Of Glass by Linkin Park when I got home. I flipped through the playlist and started our favorite song As Cities Burn after giving him one of the earbuds. "Won't you come down, heaven. Won't you come down? Won't you cut through the clouds? Won't you come down?”** At the first chorus, he already closed his eyes, and only then did I allow myself to relax a little. I carefully reached towards him, smoothed the strands falling from his face behind his ears, and then I closed my eyes too. I begged myself to fall into a dreamless sleep. In the morning, when we woke up, Noah helped me untangle the earbuds’ cord from my hair. We parted laughing, shoving a piece of toast into our mouths. He went to a band rehearsal, and I went to a place that has become my second home, the tattoo salon. My fingers got away with it quite well, with a small bruise on one of the joints, which only started to hurt a little towards the end of the day. We didn't discuss anything else about that night. Maybe I regret it since then, but what can I say? I was just a scared kid too, too stupid to help his friend more. Noah's mother died less than two months later. I didn't feel for a minute that she was a loss to the world.

He has become a grown man since and he doesn't need me to protect him from the world. I watched motionless as he walked down the street to get into a taxi. His tall, thin figure disappeared around the corner and I could finally get my legs moving. I got on the bus, grabbed a new bottle of beer from the fridge and joined the others. Folio showed Matt some funny videos and Jolly typed a message on his phone. I sat next to him on the couch and started reading the news. "He won't be able to do this for long," said Jolly next to me in a strong Swedish accent. When it was late and he was tired, he didn't pay so much attention to speaking English with perfect pronunciation. But there's nothing wrong with that, we've been working together for so long, and we've been friends for so long that we understand each other with half a word. “What do you mean?” I turned to him. I slipped out of my boots, slid off the couch, and put my feet up on the small table. I rested my head on the backrest and wiped the steam from the side of the glass with my thumb. “For Noah's secret night meetings. Matt had told him before when saw that he wanted to go out on the town all by himself.” “It doesn't happen that often. And it's not a secret where he's going, he told me he was meeting Karin,” I took him to my defense immediately. “Anyway, why can't he go? The fans had left for an hour, no one was out there. And it's not that he hit the town on foot. He called a taxi.” “That girl is strange,” Jolly grimaced. You do not say.. “When she came to our place, Noah wasn't quite himself.” Recently, I felt guilty for not trying to stop him more firmly, but I reminded myself: Noah pointed out rather angrily during an argument about this that I can't protect him from everything. "If a little fuck puts him in a better mood, we're all fine with that," Folio interjected when Matt left us alone. Maybe I gave him a nasty look from behind my beer bottle, because he held his hands up defensively. I took another sip, then realized I didn't even want the beer. I put the bottle on the table, brushed my teeth in our small bathroom, and went to sleep. At least I wanted to sleep, but I must have been tossing and turning for another hour.

It felt like I had barely closed my eyes when something started to tingle my nose. I brushed it off at first, but then Noah's soft chuckle crept into my consciousness. I groaned then pulled the pillow over my head planning to go back to sleep. I kicked the blanket off because I was hot, and it turned out, it was a big mistake. Ice cold fingers touched my side, the muscles in my stomach jumped and I let out a muffled moan. “Fuck me!” I grumbled hoarsely as I caught Noah's hand, who was just putting the other one in front of my mouth. "Shh, the others are still sleeping," he whispered excitedly with sparkling eyes. “I want to sleep too,” I answered after pulling his hand away from my mouth. “Come on, Nick. I'm hungry. I want breakfast.” “Why can’t you eat?” “Missing your company.” I sighed. “Go to the kitchen. Give me five minutes and I'll be there.” "If I leave you here, you'll go back to sleep," he said accusingly, as if he had every right not to let me go back to sleep. “And I would go a little further for breakfast than the bus kitchen. But I promise, it's worth it. You will love the place.” Another sigh, but I sat up with half-closed eyes, then pulled on a pair of pants and a thick hoodie. My jacket was still on him and he didn't seem like he wanted to give it back.

After five minutes, Noah got off the bus energetically, and I, wrapped in my hoodie, got off the bus grumpily. It was just dawn, around half past six. Noah finally slowed his steps and stopped in front of me, facing me. My hair would have been a complete disaster, not to mention the pillow creases on my face, or my eyes, which I could barely keep open. "You're sweet when you are sleepy," he said finally. He looked at me with a smile, then pulled the hood over my head and did the same with his own. ”I don't want to be recognized.” “Come on! Who would be awake this early?” I asked sarcastically, yawning into my palm. We walked down the street and luckily he was right, we really didn't have to walk far before we got to the breakfast place. Too tired to read the sign, I just entered the small but friendly coffee shop and sighed as I was greeted by a pleasant warmth inside. I said hello to the gray lady behind the counter. When I saw the first cat, licking its paws on a chair, I turned to Noah questioningly, who just shrugged. "I thought you missed your little monsters," he said. A big smile spread across my face. A cat café. I was already less sleepy when I crouched next to the kitten and let him sniff my hand. Then I noticed even more hairballs and I didn't even know which one to go to. Meanwhile, Noah ordered us coffee and breakfast at the counter. I heard the old lady laughingly answer him when asked why they were open so early: “If the kittens wake up, why can't I open the cafe?”

I smiled as I scratched the head of a calico sitting next to the wall, and we blinked at each other for a long time. After ordering, Noah came over and sat next to me. "The chick likes you," he remarked when the kitten was placed on my lap. “What kind of chick? She is a lady here,” I caressed the hairy ears. Laughing softly, Noah leaned forward and, using the kitten etiquette he'd learned from me, introduced himself to our newest friend before petting her. Now that the hood was off his head, I noticed the bite marks on his neck. The dark red spot was located right on the border between his tattoo and his bare skin so that it was just noticeable. I swallowed, tore my gaze from his neck, and reassured myself that Noah didn't seem as lost now as he did after most of his meetings with Karin. Maybe she has changed. Maybe she finally realized what she had to lose? Noah's fingers accidentally touched mine in the kitten's soft fur, and we smiled at each other as the furball began to purr loudly. I haven't seen Noah this happy since before Keaton's death. Maybe Karin isn't so bad after all? We ate breakfast sitting on the floor with a cat each in our laps and had to run back to the bus before departure.

*Too Close To Touch - Eiley **As Cities Burn - Contact

[laughroditee]

Thinking about the COD urban fantasy AU that I will be writing a fic for. I have a background in fine art and comics and have experience with video editing, so because of this, this fic came to me as a movie trailer, which I plan on making an animatic of. (If I can get my husband to learn how to voice the characters, I may include voices as well.) But it came from the idea:

What if there was a necromancer who would raise your loved one, but if you didn't pay them, they'd take control of them?

And that leads us to the

"Repossessed" Trailer Script, starring necromancer!graves

(please note that I do not have any formal training in actually formatting scripts so these are just my notes for the animatic. Filmmakers, don't come for me.)

(OPEN on a cityscape at sundown, cue music, if any.) Voiceover: "The name's Graves."

(NIGHTTIME. cut to a scene of a man, back to us in a cemetery. Close in on headshot, he turns to face the camera.) V/O: "Phillip Graves."

(INTERIOR OFFICE, DAYTIME. Graves is seated behind his desk, feet up, leaning back in his chair, maybe playing with a Rubix cube or something, speaking with a client, whom we can't see yet.)

Client: "Phillip Graves? As in 'fill up graves?' That's a bit… on the nose isn't it?"

Graves (smirking bc he's a cocky mf): "I don't so much fill ‘em up as I do empty ‘em out nowadays."

(Cut back to scene of Graves in the cemetery where a green, eldritch light glows from his hand.) V/O: "As a necromancer, I can bring anyone back from the dead."

(Cut back to Graves in office, looking at client.) Graves: "For a Price."

(Graves leans forward, cocking his head): "What would you pay?"

(Flashes of the deceased, happy.) V/O: "What would you do...?"

(Flashes of the deceased and the client together, loving etc huehuehue) V/O: "...To have them back with you?"

(Cut to Graves sitting behind his desk, holding up photo of the deceased between two fingers, looking at his client, cocky and eager.) Graves: "Pretty little thing like this? What's it worth to ya?"

(Cut to John Price seated in the chair opposite the desk, looking grief-stricken, desperate, and determined): “Everything.”

(cut to black, dramatic pause if there's music)

(Cut to first person POV, looking up at Graves, giving you a hand.) Graves: “Welcome back, darlin', to the land of the living.”

When I post the art (storyboards and eventual video) for this, it will be on my art blog @momokeen and reblogged from there. (I try to keep my 18+ stuff here separate from my main blog, even though I update more here, currently.)

Issues I know I will have:

Time - my chaotic brain always has a billion projects going at once, which is why I wanted to at least put this much out. I have at least four other fics that need attention, not to mention actual real life, and running a small business. I will be doing it though. It may not be good, but it will be done, eventually.

Finding the right music. Currently I'm looking for good epic trailer music. I have zero money to commission someone to compose something custom, otherwise I would ask my friend if he'd take the job.

Voices (because I want them 😩)

The decedent. I had planned on writing the fic as a "x you" POV, but if I'm including a visual trailer, done in the way that I want, obviously I have to pick one way the decedent looks, which I know will leave many people feeling left out. This is why I tend to make OCs, as it's easier for me to make decisions that my OCD and trauma brain won't let me make otherwise, because "this person is their own person and this is how I've developed them." (Also I'm new to fanfic, pls forgive me. I know OC x Canon is the less-liked option here. I really struggle with trying to make everyone happy, to the point that it's debilitating and I honestly don't know what to do.)

And finally, ��mental health✨.

But yeah, that's it. That's a thing I'm gonna make. This was step one. Thanks for reading. 🖤

[wetcatspellcaster]

Writer Interview Game

thank you so much for tagging me @eraserspiral !!!!

When did you start writing?

I wrote a lot of 'original fiction' as a teen, including a couple of TERRIBLE novels, that were essentially just a grab bag of all the books i was reading at the time. School (and in hindsight, grief) stopped this around 16-18, and then a very high pressure degree at a high profile university seemingly killed off my love of writing entirely.

I got back into writing at 26... weirdly?? just before the panini?? (january 2020, did past-me feel something in the water and know i'd need to hold onto any crumb of serotonin for dear life??) I had just finished my PhD applications, and after sinking so many hours and so many words into the most joy sucking series of forms I've ever encountered, I decided I wanted to write something fun for a change!

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I don't write smut. I read a LOT of smut.

But in terms of themes, I tend to write in worlds/fantasy settings where we can all pretend that capitalism doesn't exist, or that if it does exist, the protagonist is winning at it. I really like speculative fiction (sf and fantasy) that tackles capitalistic themes/poverty well - this has been on my mind recently bc of an arc in a D&D game I've been playing, where my wonderful DM has essentially gone 'capitalism bad' but then let us do something about it <3

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I find it hard to know what my writing 'is like'... not bc it's wildly unique or anything, but just bc I don't think I can see my own influences that clearly (if anyone wants to drop me some comparisons in the askbox, go for it, I'm curious!)

But in terms of writers I want to emulate, at the chatty/colloquial end it's T Kingfisher and Sarah Rees Brennan, who have a good handle on when to hit emotionally or on high fantasy register, and then when to have really grounded/human moments that make their characters incredibly relatable (and often very funny). At the high fantasy end, it's Shannon Chakraborty, Ann Leckie, Nghi Vo, Silvia Moreno Garcia. They write haunting and engaging narratives!

And, of course, I'm always trying to muster an ounce of whatever the fuck Howl/Sophie had going on.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I use my desk for work/thesis and want to exclusively keep it that way, so my writing space is actually just on the corner of the sofa in my living room, with my legs crossed, a blanket, and a cup of tea. No music, pure autistic silence (but also bc my laptop speaker is broken). Scotland gets dark for a long time in the winter, so it's usually pretty cosy vibes. It's probably not good for me, as I get a LOT of leg cramp.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Honestly, not to be tsundere about it... but maybe ignore the muse a little? If you've burned out or you're trying to brute force a scene, all you're doing is guilting yourself into being productive. With fic writing, especially, you should be doing it to have fun, not bc you feel like you have to. So if the words aren't coming, do other things for a bit. Go on a day trip, hang out with friends, do chores or read something. In my experience, my brain doesn't stay quiet for long, and ideas for my current project will come to me when i'm not trying to squeeze them out of myself like toothpaste.

Sometimes the well runs dry! Rather than feel terrible about it, be kind to yourself, and wait for rain x

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Hahahahaha, let's not talk about how I keep placing people into the worst versions of themselves and then have them improve and earn love anyway, regardless of if they deserve it. Or how I'm interested in characters who feel a wealth of emotion they hide from everyone behind a mask of either performed indifference, wilful charm, or simply bc they can't articulate it in the socially correct way. Or women who think 'if I cannot be beautiful or loveable, I will be competent', and the men who-

Anyway, introvert x extrovert pairings, amirite? Everything else is shown to me in a vision (my therapist reaches a dead end in my session as I insist nothing is wrong, asks me about my fanfic, and then delivers me a laundry list of the stuff I'm currently coping with. Lowest point: being told im IDing through the fucking DARKLING, on one project. That man is a war criminal, and I dont look like Ben Barnes).

What is your reason for writing?

In the beginning, I think it was pure comfort. I'd just come out of a period of extreme depression, and wanted to hallucinate some characters in love.

But recently, and going forward, I think it is a genuine exercise in proficiency. I thought my writing was so terrible that I said 'I couldn't write', for so fucking long. I now genuinely think this is something I'm good at, and that is something it has taken me so very long to believe, and even longer to say. I am a very self-deprecating person. I have so few things I feel good at, or that I think bring something worthwhile to the table. As academia delivers me blow after blow and the world leaves me feeling worthless, I am going to cling to this until my hands bleed.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

focusing on the 'motivation' part of this question... I think the comments that happen to land on the one specific thing that matters to me, those are the ones that hit hardest. It happens rarer than you'd think. part of the joy of fanfiction comments is the wealth of different reader interpretations, with people seeing things in your own work that you've never noticed. All interpretations are amazing, especially the ones that show you a blindspot you never considered. But when a reader hits the nail fucking on the head (gets a 'gold star in reading comprehension'), that's the most motivating, and makes me want to open my document and write the next chapter. Because I know then that at least one person out there 'gets it', and is fully on board with the story I want to tell.

But that is a very selfish, specific feeling. All comments are motivation, and all reader interpretations have value!

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

Idk if this seems weird or a disingenuous answer but... as a person?? Writing a story for fun? Pieces was a very cool and special experience, but it was very unexpected. I wasn't and never considered myself to be a 'big name fan'. I never want to enter any kind of popularity contest, and I never want to be beholden to people who are reading a story I am writing for fun. Very funny to have a story blow up when you have weird feelings about attention lmfao. Like don't get me wrong, absolutely amazing to ride such a huge tide of support, but this was meant to be my silly introvert hobby :')

I also hope they think my writing is good!! obviously!! i know it can't be everything everyone wants all the time, but you know!! i think it's neat!! I hope y'all think it's neat!! plz and thank!!!

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

lmao eraserspiral's reply to this question was a fucking mood. (just deleted it in my template to make space).

I guess... I know how to flesh out a character, and a character voice. I think I can establish a character's personality, their strengths and their flaws, and have them consistently become the vehicle for both progression and some very real, understandable mistakes. I think chapters from different perspectives feel distinct, and that when development in either direction (bad or good) happens, it feels earned.

idk man, this is a hard one to answer when depressed :')

How do you feel about your own writing?

At the end of the day, it's a lifeline. Sometimes I keep very much to myself and I protect it fiercely, because it's one of the only things that kept me going at certain points in the last few years. At my lowest, I've often wondered for what, if anything, I'll be remembered for or what I'll leave behind... and now I actually have things! 12 whole stories, where once there was nothing! Sure, it's fanfic! But some people's favourite fanfic. None of it is perfect, but it all matters to me, and we're now at the point (4 years in) where I am starting to slowly realise how it has changed me as a person, and will continue to change me going forward.

I want to start on some original ideas once my thesis is over, vivaed and done, but I don't currently see my writing as anything something I can make into a career, bc I need to keep the joy in it as the joy literally keeps me alive :')

tagging: @imscissorbladez, @pricemarshfield, @blarfshnorgull, @violacae, @dededrabbles, @brabblesblog - no pressure, just trying to share this tag game to more groups/social circles! :) x

[fruitysalamander1398]

Fanfic Writer Questions

thank you for the tag @cinehomophile !💜💜

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

38

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

84,620

3. What fandoms do you write for?

mainly the deer hunter and mean streets, but i have also written godfather fic in the past (which has since been deleted bc i didn't think it was very good lol). i've also written fic for parting glances (1986) and probably other things i can't remember but yeah.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

1. don't ask me to be lonely https://archiveofourown.org/works/45806962

2. oh, pretty baby https://archiveofourown.org/works/47108557

3. my boy https://archiveofourown.org/works/49263451

4. you're just too good to be true https://archiveofourown.org/works/46031446

5. moonlight lover https://archiveofourown.org/works/49926586

5. do you respond to comments?

usually i message the person privately bc for some reason it makes me a little anxious but sometimes i do! i love getting comments so i try to get back to everyone.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i think it would have to be point of no return: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45937063 bc the literal whole point is that it's a death scene of johnny.

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

i have lots of happy ending deer hunter fluff / hurt/comfort but i think the happiest one is probably my beloved strawberry https://archiveofourown.org/works/46815451 in which mike and nick get a cat<3

8. do you get hate on fics?

thankfully no, but oddly enough i have gotten hate on uquiz before and people suicide baiting me on uquiz seems like a pretty unique experience lmao so lmk if it's happened to you as well.

9. do you write smut? if so what kind?

okay so this might sound dumb but i don't know what actually qualifies as smut like are all sex scenes counted as smut? or is it like more graphic / strictly horny lmao. in any case yes i have and do write sex scenes, mainly really tender and romantic sex.

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you have written?

i haven't personally wrote one but me and @cinehomophile had an idea for one which he is working on and we both kinda co-authored the general concept of. i shan't say more.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

no!

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

not translated but i've had many podfics made of my work by the lovely dmitri!

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes! i co wrote with my incredible boyfriend @ulyssesgays1995 a few times and also with @cinehomophile !!

14. what's your all time favorite ship?

this will surprise no one but it has to be mike and nick from the deer hunter. they mean so much to me.

15. what's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

never say never lol. i have a few shorter wips stowed away rn but i plan to finish them i think!

16. what are your writing strengths?

i think i'm good at hurt/comfort and examining the deep pain of a character but then bringing them to a place of healing with the support of their partner.

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

i can never plan out a plot ahead of time i just go in with a vague idea and see where it takes me. sometimes it works out great but i wish i could formulate my ideas more clearly sometimes bc sometimes they feel overwhelming.

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fics?

it's so cool! i have never personally done it but i would love to try.

19. first fandom you wrote for?

it would've been something when i was REALLY young probably like anne of green gables if i had to guess.

20. favorite fic you've written?

without a doubt, my deer hunter sex work au oh pretty baby https://archiveofourown.org/works/47108557 it holds such a special place in my heart and writing it was extremely cathartic from me. tw for sexual abuse in this fic and in my answer to this question but writing the fic was a way for me to process and emotionally externalize my own experience as a victim of sexual abuse.

on that note, thanks to anyone who has ever read my fics, in both their developmental and final stages. (like @fredoesque who i have sent many a wip to.) i love you all and i love writing. can't wait to keep posting my work!!

i tag @melis-writes @meme-streets @rosesloveletters @mr-snailman 💜 no pressure if not ofc.

[ambrosialdesire]

God it’s my favourite thing when an author just builds their AUs by answering a bunch of discrete little asks cacoethes Reiner is on ‼️ my ‼️ mind‼️ 24/7‼️

Would Reiner control readers social groups? What would happen if reader cheated on him would he go apeshit or just do the good ol baby trap

AW TYSM FOR YOUR SUPPORT ANON 🥰🥰 i just love talking about cacoëthes, it’s my absolute bread and butter (and probably the first series that i finished in the ~10+ years i've been writing lol)

reiner definitely controls reader's social groups when he can. before bonding with porco, she was only really allowed to speak with the warriors and his family. anyone else either doesn't pay any mind to her or was too afraid of her (since she originated from paradis and is well-known to be married to the armored titan holder), but very select few like the fisherman that helped her can hold a conversation with her and ignore the status she has. tbh reiner really can't control who she talks to since he's out and about a lot but i think in another ask, i've mentioned that he hired some people to keep watch of her if she's doing anything suspicious or behind his back but they don't really keep complete watch on her bc wtf else is a housewife gonna do (this is literally their undoing bc she got away with a lot before the escape attempt happened 💀💀).

but like after the whole porco shit and the escaping, he never leaves her side and literally goes with her everywhere. groceries, shopping, even a simple stroll to stretch her legs, he's coming with her. conversations with any stranger are cut short and if the warriors are nearby, they'll only get a brief hello and a wave from them. reiner's so smothering that it's even more unbearable and reader never gets the chance for some peace until he leaves for more fighting. BUTTTT when he leaves and the house becomes all quiet, reader can't admit it aloud but she started hating the silence and starts missing his presence, as clingy as he is hehe

I LITERALLLLLYYYYY HAD THIS IDEA BACK WHEN I STARTED THE 2ND PART OF CACOETHES AND WHEN I WAS WRITING THE PORCO PARTS ABOUT LIKE A DIVERGENCE OF THE PLOT WHERE IT'S PORCO'S POV AND HE AND READER GET TOGETHER BEHIND REINER'S BACK. i kinda did wanted to originally add an implication that reader was sleeping with porco but since i was trying to go about this by how the characters were in the actual plot of aot (even tho when i started this blog and posted the first part, i hadn't watched the series since like 2013-2014 so i was extremely rusty when i came back to it), i felt like porco would never try sleeping with his vice captain's wife; maybe he would cause he'd prolly do it out of spite or get on reiner's nerves or has this cocky attitude about being able to get away with it, something to that extent. however, i think he's too prideful to be sleeping with an "island devil" he kinda likes and sorta has a slight amount of respect towards reiner (just bc he's a higher rank and that's about it).

i'm still going to actually make a fic about that plot eventually so everyone can see how reiner acts like in a jealous rage (i also sorta talked about it in a kink ask with the blog's most frequent asking anon, bow anon ( aka 🎀 anon (shoutout to you, you absolute horndog 🫶) if you look around in my answered posts or the love-message tag), and i have another request that's in the works about reiner's jealousy in more detail).

i heavily enjoy talking about cacoëthes and like you said, building upon its silly little fic-verse. sorry to my other fics due to my outspoken favoritism 😭😭 now that i think about it, out of all of them, bounded/boundless and cacoëthes gets asks the most and down boy, down and inamorato gets the least lmfao

[sunnylolli]

I hate how the majority of the fandom portrays norway and denmark's friendship as abusive, I can't find one good fic where norway isn't mean to den for no goddamn reason😩 (but also I balme hima bc he started it and now it's gone too far😔) anyways; what I wanted to say was how do you portray their relationship?

Right!!!! I agree!!

I'm not a big shipper and I haven't delved into this ship in particular in the past, but from what I've seen, you're so right!! I've usually found myself asking why they're together if they can't stand each other at all.

And it doesn't make sense that they wouldn't, anyway!

I think I portray them a bit differently, but that's also because from my experience with Norwegians and Norway in general, they're always up for a beer as much as Danes are! And they're more serious, sure, but they're also incredibly funny and it's just--

Lukas to me is serious, but he doesn't actually take everything overly seriously and he's spiteful but doesn't hold many grudges for very long!

He's the kind of character, I think, to be in on the most ridiculous things, and announce it entirely off handedly.

"I'm in." As if he's announcing the lotto numbers for the week.

Him and Mathias, I think they get on well. I think Lukas teases him, particularly about how he doesn't understand any of what he's saying most of the time and about how he's been hanging around America for too long - But he thinks he's funny and I can see them agreeing on a lot of things!

I think if there should be strained relations, particularly the way Classic DenNor is portrayed, towards anybody, it would be Sweden. Though even that I wouldn't say is all that serious.

There was the whole 'We can buy the whole of Sweden if we wanted' song not too long ago (last summer? Though I could be wrong) and I think that portrays the idea pretty well, that Lukas is really alike Mathias on some key aspects, namely that he's a bit petty, he jokes around freely and he teases (Doesn't bully! There IS a difference) - So their relationship, romantic, brotherly or otherwise, I would say works quite well! Given they look past the obsessive past, but it seems they're doing a good enough job of that.

Sweden's the one that holds grudges, but the ask isn't about him 🤔

[wizardnuke]

im talking about the essay grade again and i got off topic and started talking about the lit analysis potential inthe vast majority of fanfictionbjust. Ignore

i feel like it's such a humblebrag for me to be like "i don't understand how i continually get really good grades in english" because i understand objectively that 1) i am very good at analysis and/or. finding quotes to support whatever the fuck thesis i decided would be easy to support (see: "good at analysis") (i think i honestly just randomly hit the jackpot on "good thesis" but on god i just looked at macbeth and gawain respectively and was like Ah. Women's Wrongs. Easy Peasy) and 2) i know from looking at other people's essays that i am just kind of. marginally-to-a-lot better at grammar and phrasing/understand the very specific madlibs-style layout i have to use and what vocabulary that i need to be putting out. it's madlibs. there's a really technical and specific layout that needs to be followed and i just kind of follow it. it's not hard. it is boring. if i could write academic papers on the shit i'm actually interested in they'd be worthless because it's niche and/or wild tumblr user conjecture. anyone who seriously writes on. hold on i need to generate a thesis. "the cyclic nature of abuse and its direct correlation to homoeroticism in cn's supernatural" could u fucking imagine. that's hilarious. that's some hackjob shit no matter how well i could keep a straight face on the matter because all that people care about is Old Shit. i have no real vested interest in actual literary works beyond "they're important and better than people think". i have extremely strong feelings on a lot of modern works, generally movies and shows and niche dnd webshows, i cannot make a career in that shit, my english prof thinks fanfic is bullshit and i see where he's coming from! i don't think it's bullshit. but. the academic perspective on fanfiction is like "they're not making original work" because the setting/adjacent themes and characters r lifted from another work and there's no real originality in it except that the best fics i've read are like.. an alternate form of literary analysis that is so far from actual essay writing that it's unrecognizable. but people can see the themes and the motifs and rehash them in a way that is absolutely a kind of analysis of the original work, but with flourishes and new ideas and batshit choices that the og media either couldn't make/didn't feel like making/tentacle sex wasn't really thematically fitting but an author decided "hey what if i put themes into this consentacles fic" and like, i want to argue that that's legit. sometimes. but i am not going to do that bc i sound objectively insane and also sometimes it is just not that deep and that will be brought up as an argument and i just don't care enough to explain that it's still an art form even if it's not that deep. is "fun and funky fresh" not a common motivator. if "new interpretations" of works like shakespeare and shit where they plunk the characters into a modern setting and fuck with the phrasing is seen as a viable art form/type of analysis then fanfic is an art form/analysis adjacent to that. not all of it though. some of it is something else that is worse. not that i think that is in itself bad. fanfic is a hobby. can't make a career out of that. but people have made careers out of that by changing the names and setting and publishing books. and that's viable apparently. i just personally am insane and enjoy writing very serious and/or emotionally driven meta on dnd shows. i like themes and motifs and i think that while a quickly written meta post on the tragedy inherent in redemption arcs that hit 50k is absolutely not as academically sound as a cited paper on a similar subject, there's Something To It and there's got to be some kind of potential in it. i like stories. idk if i could make a living out of talking about stories especially from the insane angle that i tend to hit stories at. the possibility of making it a genuine career is driven down below ground after i take into consideration my insanity about modern stories vs my neutrality on older ones. what am i talking abt. bf is yelling for me bye

[matenrou-fan]

Hiiii can you do hcs of samatoki falling in love with a girl at a nearby thrift store? we know toki loves his vintage clothing.. s/o just starting working there and toki met her, he came back a few times and after they'd talked more, he'd come just to see her bc he toootally fell in love 🤭

nd then when he confesses his feeling to her..!! 💕

anya I really enjoy your writing, thank you so much for your wonderful stories. I hope you have a lovely day, and don't work too hard, you have so many requests!! I don't know how you write so fast, but please remember to take breaks and care for yourself too 🩷

you really do good job of understanding the characters!

Samatoki falling in love with a girl that works in thrift store

omg hiii!! First thing first - thank you very much for all these words, ahh!! I'm very flattered!!! >///< I also have no idea how I'm able to write that fast, I just have too much free time, I think.. Also, I had put your request in my schedule as fic and only when star work with it notice that you ask for hcs!! So I writed hc yet ended up with a small scenario in the end lolollo hope it's okay..!

femreader, fluff, just wholesome stuff, swearing;;

-Samatoki was no stranger to almost all thrift stores in Yokohama division, knowing where and what he can buy exactly - this one is full of good jeans, this one is more expensive but clothes here are always in really good quality..

-Yet most of the time he visits a store that was near his house, he didn't have that much time as second in command of the Yakuza. Also, let's be honest, Samatoki can be kinda lazy to ride to another part of town, especially if he's just bored and just wants to peek a little.

-And one day, as he was walking around, looking at new arrivals, a consultant appeared in front of him with a small blush on her cute face.

-It was you..! And honestly, in your first meeting Samatoki didn't pay that much attention to you. Like yeah, you were kinda pretty, but he's not the type to fall madly in love right in the place.

-"Can I help you?" - you ask with your cheerful voice. Ahh, you just started working here and were kinda nervous..! So you try to be as positive and polite as you can, looking at the tall grumpy man in front of you with a soft smile.

"Actually, yes.. There was always this stand with t-shirts, where is it now?" - Samatoki points out an empty place and you nod.

"Oh, we had a little change here, and moved it to another side.. Here." - you lead him through shelves and hangers to the right place.

"Mm.. Thank you." - he still looked kinda somber, yet his voice was pretty calm and soft..? Just who is this man..?

-Well, it looks like he was absolutely uninterested in you, yet somewhere in the depths of his mind, the Yakuza made a mental note about you. Nothing serious, he just remembers you.. Why? He probably can't answer himself.

-He visited this store at least once a week, and after a few times he would prefer to ask you than other consultants. You're a newbie yet being able to understand Samatoki better than experienced sellers, like you two have some sort of connection.

-Despite his harsh character, Samatoki is actually more calm around civilians, so very soon he will show this side of him too. Slowly, he starts to be softer around you, and sometimes you even notice the corners of his lips lifting up a little..

-"Hey, what do you think, which of these shirts is better..?" - he suddenly catches you with an unexpected question, when you help him once again. The way he asks you, with such a smirk on his face and playful tone, looks more like he asks a friend, not a consultant..

"Oh.. This one is good, yet I do remember you already bought something similar last time?" - nervous, you get closer and touch the fabric of the yellow shirt he was holding in his arms, then look at another place of clothes. - "And this one.. Oh, I know..!"

You went away for a minute, leaving your loyal customer a little bit confused, then returned with a matching hat and jacket.

"Here..! I think it all would look good together." - A small titter escaped your lips as you held out new clothes to Samatoki. His face was the same yet you can see a little surprise on his face and it tickles your heart both with excitement and fear.

"Hm.. You're right.." - he mumbled, looking at your suggestions then chuckling. - "I'll go and try this all.. Stay here, I'll need your opinion once again after I'll change my clothes.."

This time you were the one who was left in place, absolutely confused. You didn't even notice when this intimidating man got all friendly with you..!

-Yet it's more look not like something friendly, more like teasing, as Samatoki loves to mock you a little. He can be kinda bratty and playful when the right mood strikes him, yet it just means he gets attached to you more, feeling relaxed around you.

-But at the same time you notice that when you actually get alone - on days when he gets in store really early or really late and there's not that many other clients, or when you two suddenly get in an empty part of the store where no one sees you two through all the shelves.. Then this Yakuza actually opens to you completely, not only his more chatty side, but something attentive, caring and soft.

-Even his voice gets more low and soothing, as he speaks with you, asking about new things, and slowly changing topics to some domestic stuff.

-"Huh.. I notice you start to take less weekends now. Don't think money is more important than health and don't rush over it, okay?" - Samatoki mumble, trying on another vintage pair of shoes.

"Oh, no.. My co-worker just got sick so this is why I take more shifts now.." - you mutter in response, looking through another box with shoes that would suit him, then realization hits your mind. - "Did you just try to scold me..?!"

This was neither the first nor probably last time he did this, and you always receive some laughter and more teasing for your reaction, yet this time Samatoki looks more serious.

"More like a warning.. I don't want you to overwork yourself." - there's no sign of blush on his face or something, Samatoki said this so casually like you two talk about weather, yet the tone of his voice was so unexpectedly caring, making you blush a little.

"Okay.. Sorry."

-Samatoki is a straightforward man. He doesn't want to fool around with you or with his own feelings, and after some time, after he shows this softer side of him, and receives no less soft care and attention from you, he decides to act.

-And one day, he held up with you until the store closed. (especially or accidentally? well…) The weather was terrible, torrential rain and strong wind, so he suddenly offered to take you home in his car.

-Well, it seems like things are planned, huh? He lives not that far away from the thrift store but you told him before that it takes some time for you to get here, that's why he took a car with himself today?

-But how can you say no? As you also develop some feelings for him.. and a long ride in a warm passenger seat as you enjoy gloomy skies and watch a small drop of rain running on the window sounds so good.

-Quiet, calm music fills the car as Samatoki slowly rides you to your place. He didn't talk much, just a small light conversation between you two but it felt so soothing, like if you know each other for a really long time. Low velvety voice makes your whole body relax, your eyes slowly move from the windshield to his figure, and you feel like you literally can fall asleep in this atmosphere..

-"Hey, sleepyhead..! We're in place." - light chuckle wakes you up as Samatoki touches your shoulder. Maybe you were too drowsy after a small nap but you can swear the way he strokes you was so indescribably yearning..?

"Mm.. Already?" - you yawn, looking at your house through the window. The rain was still pouring down, and you can't help but yawn a little bit more, almost mewling.

"Are you always like that after sleep? Like a small kitty.." - he smirks, yet then his voice gets more deep, dropping to whisper. - "It's amusing that I wish I could see such a face of yours more often.."

"What?" - you turn to him with widened eyes, still not sure what you just heard. For a moment he looks at you, then moves back, sighing disappointed with furrowed brows.

"Fuck.. This is not the way I wanted to say this.." - Samatoki bumble, then look at you again, this time you actually can see some light blush creeping to his pale face. - "S/o, there's something I wanted to tell you.."

"You get too special for me now, and I can hold this inside me anymore. No one ever makes me feel more alive, it's like your softness melts something in my soul, if not breaks it completely.. I'm no longer as I was before, cause now I can't imagine my life without you.." - soft careful touch to your hand as he gets closer, not breaking eye contact with you. - "S/o, I love you.."

For a moment you froze, trying to process his words. You never would have imagined that Samatoki can be so smooth and poetic with his words, and it makes you kinda shocked now, speechless.

"Wait, I need some time, as it feels like I'm still dreaming.." - small murmur was all that your trembling voice could come up with now, as you look away, feeling your cheeks get warmer and warmer.

"I don't mind if you would remember it's all just like a dream.. After all, I originally planned to take you to some more suitable place than my car to confess to you.." - Samatoki smirks, his thumb slowly caressing your knuckles as he admires every small reaction on your face, this heavy blush and darting eyes. - "But you just look too cute and mesmerizing right now.."

"Huh.. Then can I fetch another small memory from this dream..?" - you whisper under your breath, not able to control your gaze that stopped on his lips. And Samatoki quickly noticed this.

"Fuck, s/o.. You wanted to toy with my heart, do you..?" - he groans, moving his arms from your hand to your shoulder, bringing you closer to himself. In the darkness of the street his face looks so mysterious and charming, and this deep gaze of red eyes, as they glow with passion.. - "You know I can't resist your small games.."

You whimper, grasping in his shoulders too, as he presses his lips to yours. Some soft but needy kiss, as if a young Yakuza was actually waiting for this for a long time. Damn, you almost can feel like he is trying to control himself from getting carried away in this small display of affection.

"Mn..You sure want me to remember that kiss only like a dream? It sure feels too good to be real, yet still.." - you giggle shyly when he pulls away, breathing heavily.

"Oh? And I always thought that you were an angel.." - he smirks, placing his hands on your waist, looking at your lips more hungrily. - "If you decided to be so playful, then okay.. I will show you my devil side once again.."

[ghoulangerlee]

With Rain please 💖

(And any other water ghouls/ettes if there are and you want!)

How I feel about this character

I love Rain so much. I don't know what it is about him that draws me to him but gosh. Though I think, unfortunately, I am drawn to my own version of Rain (the non-verbal shark coded Rain alsdkjfsa). I love the idea that he may be a little bit more ghoul than human, that he still hunts and kills his food before consuming it. That if you catch him on a bad day then that may just be the last day you have. For the longest time, he didn't think he had need for a pack, but then he was summoned and tossed into a pack and now he can't see himself without a pack, despite being mostly solitary.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

everyone without a doubt. just toss him into the ghoul pile and see what happens with him. He has two hands that means he can hold more than one person's hand.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Very tricky because I haven't really thought of this one too much in depth. I think it may be situational for me, depends on what sort of fic I'm writing. I can see him in a non-romantic sorta deal with Aurora. They're both (in my mind) Older than some of the others so they bond over that. They have Fooled Around i think, but definitely in a two predators with one prey sort of way (and only ever with a third, not just the two of them)

My unpopular opinion about this character

The shyness thing isn't my cup of tea. I think early on he was a bit confused by everything, having to learn how to communicate, having to deal with suddenly getting an intimate understanding of human emotions (thanks to being summoned by a human), being thrust into a life mostly on land with very little places for him to actually be himself. I don't think it was every shyness. I think it was just. wariness.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

Pretty hard bc there's not much canon stuff about the ghouls. Especially not the current lineup of them. I mean there was some stuff in the movie and those are significant spoilers so I won't exactly say but I think it'd be cool if the thing in the movie happened more.

[hed-romancer]

Idk if this is weird to hop in ur ask box and say but I genuinely loved your mp100 comic so much rly enjoyed the ‘day in the life’ feel it had like you managed to capture the tone of the original manga so perfectly

awww thank you so much!!!! you're getting an info dump about it now:D

i'm still very surprised multiple people like my comic tbh. i'll read comments saying "i like your art style" and think "what art style? i just can't draw". pure luck it kinda looks like the manga. my only real goal with the art of it is to make it so that people know what's going on in each panel (but also i'm not too confident in my ability to do that, so image descriptions!)

i'm also reasonably certain a lot of the people who see one part of the comic don't see the other parts. not really sure if there's something i can do to help that or if that's just how social media works???

the comic isn't finished either! i do actually have kind of a goal for it???? (disclaimer, i don't think i've ever started writing a multichapter fanfic and then also finished writing it)

so the premise is that everything is the same as canon, mob has his same powers as canon, but teruki is just a little bit stronger. so when they fight, and teru knocks mob into ???%, he's also able to contain the explosion.

this basically leaves mob, who's been terrified of his emotions/powers for years now, with someone he knows for a fact can contain them. and teru, who has been fighting off a child-esper kidnapping organization on his own, with another child esper who's weaker than him. teru, who's been holding on to this idea that he's the strongest ever because that's what makes him feel safer, with further evidence that he is in fact the strongest ever.

it's an interesting premise! (slightly inspired by this fic, in which mob ends up at teru's school and teru's his glorious unredeemed self towards him.) (side note, teru has such an interesting redemption arc! usually we see a character do bad things, then we get the rationalization why they do them, then they realize they're wrong, then they start doing better. we don't start to piece together why teru does what he does until quite a while after he realizes he's wrong and starts to change!)

anyway. i think the hardest part of writing this comic is that i have an end goal (teru gets friends and family and isn't quite so scared and relaxes a bit), but i'm not really sure how to get there. i think a lot of it will just end up being slice-of-life teru and shigeo becoming friends while in this strange dynamic.

i also really think that having shigeo (and also reigen) be weaker than teru gives a very unique opportunity to show teru that people who love you don't have to be stronger than you to want to and try to and maybe succeed in protecting you.

thanks for the ask!!!! i'm not gonna apologize for the rambling bc i'm just not gonna this time!

[sohya]

omg like lemme jump on the bandwagon @medusashima created this is such a fun idea n i've been wanting to get back into writing ahh also most of these fics are from my old blog so the links will take you there but here are five of my own self fic recs c:

heaven (haitani brothers x reader) ; written in prime feral-for-the-haitanis era and i like to think that was why it's my most popular fic to date. i remember coming up with the plot for this but having it as mikey x reader x draken but my heart switched up and the haitanis just seemed right for it. probably one of my favourite fics bc the positions that i wrote were inspired by videos i found on twitter :')

on a call (rindou x reader) ; the third part to heaven honestly i just remember shifting from ran to rindou around this time which is why i favoured him enough to write a solo fic about him. call it projection ig. but also writing this made me insane i can't explain it but actually no i can, i want to be the object of lust between the two of them. that's it.

it's a match! (draken x reader) ; wrote this for user tenrichouku's birthday and i think this is one of my greatest pride n joys just bc i wrote it for a very very good friend who enjoyed it so much. but also it's a birthday fic. probably just a me thing but if i ever find a birthday fic, i hold onto it to read when it's my actual birthday just so i can feel happier idk. probably overused 'princess' as a petname but i grew into it i think. also this was a bigger feast to write only bc it was an entire story with a beginning, middle and end. strangers to lovers the whole shebang :>

still reeling (south terano x reader); honestly !!!!! south in his entirety i just love. and at the time i wrote this, there were only a few south fics but they all domesticated him so much that i just had to apply it into my own fic. i feel like it's one of my most realistic fics personally, made me crave having a 7ft bf who fucks both of our stress away.

honorable mention to this little drabble thing i wrote from my selfship blog that i crossposted to this blog n changed to x reader. reverse au where we're the fictional characters and our faves are the ones fawning over us is definitely my most favourite trope bc it's just so cute and fun to imagine. i definitely acted more feral than souya in this when i finally got him on mudae.

and that's that !! the first four fics were all written in 2021 which is so crazy and it's nice to go back to and read and cringe a lil but it's fun to be reminded of how much of a horny mess i was when writing it :p