#not gonna push myself to write more than i have. i'm working on figuring out that balance between avoidance & going way too hard lmao

[byanyan]

okok i wanted to do more tonight but honestly? i'm impressed i wrote anything with how tired i am lmao. tomorrow!!! i'm comin' for y'all!!!! affectionately, ofc ♡

[trans-leek-cookie]

had a little episode of Maybe Brainfog? that made it really hard to think of words and also was happening when I was trying to remember something I wanted to ask because forgetting it would be really fucking annoying but trying to figure out how the hell to Use Words was both comparable to the punishments of Sisyphus and Tantalus because I kept circling back because I could never actually say my point and also I knew there were words I wanted to say but they were like. In driving distance but I don't have a car so it's like yeah I could get them but I need some external help so it's like it's not the distance as much as it's the thing that would make the distance doable. I am losing track of what I'm talking about but anyway while that definitely wasnt a fun experience (it felt like in PE when you had to run a mile and you can't constantly run so you can walk and it's like, not painful but it's not neutral either it's just not As Draining All The Time but its all sorta draining no matter what)

CUTTING THIS OFF BEFORE I INTRODUCE MORE FUCKING METAPHORS that episode 1. Gave me a better feel for my symptoms bc I straight up have the thing i was forcing myself to write and it's not like incomprehensible but you can tell I couldn't stay focused and I can actually remember (this is a big thing I always forget my symptoms) how much of a struggle it was not only to write the message but also to make sure I was using the right words to ask the question I had. I literally wrote "so the main question is" on like the second and fourth paragraphs of that ask I was fighting for my life in that ask box and I came out. Okay. 2. I feel like it's a good experience to draw from when writing characters because it's very very a lot. It's good for when you need weird out-of-it dis. Um. What's the word hard to describe? No DIFFICULT when the character needs to be having difficulty thinking it's good experience for writing that

[thesmollestsnek]

Death echoes

So a while ago, i found this dp x dc post that had a really interesting lore headcanon for Danny’s ghostly wail. Idk if I’ll be able to find it again, I’ll link it here if I do, but essentially it posited that every ghost has something called a “death echo”, which is an ability unique to them based heavily on their deaths. These echoes are the most powerful move in a ghost’s moveset, but they’re also extremely volatile and draining, typically damaging the ghost in some way when used, with Danny’s being his Wail because he died screaming. The original post then went on to some really cool halfa!Jason ideas based on these death echoes, but for this lil snippet with an extremely long intro I’d like to focus on Danny a bit more.

Edit: Apparently I may have extrapolated a lot of the actual lore behind these death echos myself? The inspiration post was a lot longer in my memories. Or I might've mushed multiple posts into one mental box and then forgot lol. So a lot of the actual detail from this point on is seemingly mostly original material? I think? Idk man, sometimes my brain spits out information without giving me any clues as to where it got that information. Anyway, this post got kinda long and since I'm... decently sure this is where I shifted from summarizing @ailithnight's post to writing all my own thoughts I figured here would be a good place to throw the cut lol.

So! with all of the context-for-the-context out of the way, let’s move on to the actual context for what I’m writing cause I can’t be bothered with writing an intro XD

Essentially, this is an au where Danny is an established member of the Justice League, or maybe one of the teen hero teams? I’m a slut for eternal teenager Danny, but maybe he’s enough of a powerhouse to be on the main team despite him both looking and acting like the dumbass fourteen year old he died as. Either way, he’s on a League/League-sanctioned mission and things go bad. Like, everyone-almost-dies bad. And so as a final desperation attack, Danny uses his Wail, a power he’s never told anyone on the league he even has. And it works, and they make it out, but after the fact everyone has. Questions. And because in this au death echoes are deeply personal, Danny dodges those questions, but the league coughbatmancough isn’t satisfied with that. So they push for answers. Answers Danny’s not willing to give, because. In my mind death echoes aren’t just based on how a person died, but also their experience of that death. What their last thoughts were. When Danny died the only thing that he could process beyond just an all-encompassing painpainpainpainpain was the sound of someone screaming. His screaming. And so his death echo is the sound of a fourteen year old child screaming in deathly pain and terror weaponized, which definitely gave the league Even More Questions than they would’ve had already. Which finally brings us to the actual snippet, which is a conversation between John Constantine, who was brought in for his experience with the supernatural once it became clear Danny wasn’t going to talk, and Danny himself. 

~~~~~~~

“So, kid. Batsy tells me you’ve been hiding some of your abilities, wanna tell me what's up with that? Call it an occultist's intuition, but somethin’ tells me you’re not just being stubborn for the hell of it.”

“It’s... complicated. And not anyone’s business, either!”

“Kid...”

“Why does it even matter?! It’s not something I want to or am even able to do on a regular basis! I saved the mission, can’t they just accept that and move on???”

Sighing, Constantine reached up to start massaging his brow. “Kid, you and I both know that ain’t gonna be enough. Now I know that some things are better left alone, but the rest of these idiots? They can’t accept that, Batsy especially. That man’s never left bloody well enough alone in his life”

He looked up just in time to see the otherworldly teen shrink into himself, looking every bit the child he was. “I know but... why? Why do they need to keep asking questions? And why do they only ask the ones that hurt to answer?”

A sharp glance. “The fuck kinda questions are they asking? Batman was speaking in more grunt than word, so I didn’t really catch all the details of what this power you’re supposedly hiding even is.”

Phantom shrinks even more into himself at that, and responds in a voice so small it’s more sigh than speech. “I... I can scream. And it breaks things and pushes people back. But it, it sounds. Bad. And it brings up bad memories and I don’t like to do it or listentoitoreventhinkaboutitandtheywon’tletmeforgetand-”

“Breathe kid. I know you don’t need to but just take a deep breath with me. Don’t you go getting lost in your own head on me now., Constantine reassured the kid automatically, the sheer hopelessness prompting action long before the words themselves could be understood. Then the rest of him caught up, and he had to pause. Looked up at the kid, saw just how distressed he was. A picture was starting to form in the back of his head, and Constantine didn’t like what he saw one bit. A last-resort power that the normally open Phantom was strangely reticent about. A scream so horrible sounding the rest of the league would not to stop asking questions about it. Terrible memories to match said scream. And one truly miserable child who couldn’t bear to even think about any of it. 

“Phantom... is that your Echo? Screaming?”

A miserable nod is his only response, the tears that had been welling up in the kid’s eyes finally starting to fall. Cursing softly to himself, Constantine stood to leave, bracing himself for the Bat’s inevitable questioning. “Well then you just take all the time you need love, and leave the rest to me. I’ll make sure the rest of those idiots know not to ask you about this ever again.”  And with that Constantine turned and strode towards the door, leaving the quietly sobbing child to collect himself in privacy.

~~~~~

I had a whole-ass lore dump conversation between Constantine and Batman planned here, explaining how death echoes are deeply personal, and asking about one is a taboo on par with, potentially even worse than, asking a ghost about their death outright. Because they are formed from an amalgamation of how a ghost died, their last thoughts, and their final emotions, in some ways asking a ghost about their Echo is like asking them to describe their death in painstaking detail. But uhhh... inspiration bug left. So yea. Side note, I’d like to apologize if my depiction of Constantine’s accent was Bad, I’m but a lowly USAmerican whose only exposure to British accents is through tv ^-^’

[flippinpancakes64]

filming a tiktok with edward cullen

Filming a TikTok with Edward

Okay so I figured that this one would be better suited for a narrative story format yk so here I am trying it once more.

I actually had a lot of fun writing this one lol

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” Alice pleaded to you once again.

“Sorry, Alice. You know I would go with you but I’m just way too tired today,” you sighed.

“Pleeeease? Rosalie already said no and it’s boring going to the mall all by myself!” She said, trying to step past you into the entryway of your house.

It had already been what felt like at least 10 minutes of Alice begging you to go with her to the mall. And 10 minutes of you telling her no. She may never need sleep, but you sure as hell did.

“What’s so important at the stupid mall anyway? Don’t you already have enough clothes to cover the entire Pacific Ocean?”

Alice rolled her eyes and successfully pushed past you, dancing her way to sit on the couch.

“What’s ‘so important’ is none of your business just yet. I had a vision,” she said, her eyes staring mystically into space as she waved her hands around exaggeratedly.

You huffed, “You can’t just say that you had a vision for everything you don’t want me to know.”

“Okay well then how’s this; something very fun and important will happen later but only if you let me take you to the mall right now and buy you a new outfit.” A sly smile spread across her face, her eyes appearing fox-like as she giggled quietly.

You groaned. Luckily, your parents weren't home yet. They would have told you to just go a long time ago. That's part of the Cullens' charm, everyone liked them. And you weren't immune to them either.

You sighed, finally taking your heavy backpack off of your shoulders and letting it slide to the ground. You looked up at Alice and saw her staring at you in anticipation.

"Fine, just let me go get my wallet-" and in a flash Alice was gone. Before you could even blink again she was standing in front of you with a huge grin on her face and your wallet in her hands.

"Done. Okay let's go!" she cheers, taking your arm and dragging you out the front door. "You've wasted enough time already."

"Did you forget how to walk or something? Come ON!" Alice sighed as she attempted to drag you through the crowded mall.

"I can walk just fine, thank you," you huffed, trying your hardest to keep up with her as she raced down the walkways.

Alice weaved the two of you through the large crowds. In between couples, over chairs, past crying children, and finally... to a Spirit Halloween.

"..." you stood there, Alice's hand in yours still as she continues her attempts to drag you along. "...is this some sort of joke? Cause I'm not laughing."

"No, it's not a joke. Now come on! You are so slow! We are running out of time!"

You let yourself be dragged into the store. Completely devoid of people, it was even creepier than it was intended to be.

"I have so many questions," you started. "First of all, why? Second of all, why is there a Spirit Halloween already, it's only July? And third of all, why???" you protested as Alice guided you to a corner of the store.

She stopped in front of you, whirling around to face you and getting in close. "Look," she whispered, "I have a plan and I just need you to go along with it. Edward is terrified of clowns. Some traumatic childhood memory or something, whatever."

"So... what, I'm gonna dress up as a clown and try to scare Edward? Yeah, like that'll work," you said sarcastically.

"No, it'll work! I've seen it! Bella will cover your thoughts so that he doesn't hear you approaching, Jasper is going to overload his mind with a sense of ease so that he doesn't suspect anything, and Emmett's gonna call his attention, then- boom! That's when you strike!"

"...How long have you wanted to do this?"

"Years." And with that Alice extends her arm, in it she holds a clown mask.

"Did you remember to start recording?" Alice whispered.

"Well obviously I haven't started it yet," you snapped, "ugh, Alice this thing stinks." You said, pulling the latex mask off of your face.

Currently, you were dressed head to toe in a cheap costume of a ripoff Pennywise the Clown. The Summer sun was beating down on your back as you stood outside with Alice, Jasper, Bella, and Emmett.

Alice tutted and pulled the mask back on your face, "I know it does, but you won't have it on for much longer," she said. "Okay, everyone knows what to do, right?"

Nods and hums of affirmation were heard around the circle. Looking at all of their faces, you noticed the latent excitement in their features. Emmett was jogging in place as if he was preparing for a hunt, Jasper was smirking and cracking his knuckles, and Bella's grin was so wide that it almost looked inhuman.

Alice shot you one look and you sighed, pulling out your phone, and starting the recording.

"Pranking my boyfriend while I'm dressed up as a clown," you said, then laughed. All of you moved into the house. As soon as you crossed the threshold, Bella stopped and closed her eyes, presumably laying her shield over all of you to hide your thoughts.

You ventured through the house, your little pack of helpers following stealthily behind. Through the house, you could hear Edward's piano keys ringing. A soft melody that was not very fitting of the intense situation floated all around.

You stopped right outside of the open doorway to the piano and waited. Inside, Edward was sitting at the keys, plunking away. Jasper closed his eyes next to you and held his hands up as if he was manifesting his ability. Next to him, Emmett sprang to the side door to the room and called Edward's name loudly, bringing his attention to the other side of the room.

This was your shot.

As fast as you could, you ran towards Edward, doing your best scary clown laugh the whole way there.

And if you hadn't caught it on camera, you wouldn't have believed his reaction.

He sprang out of his seat, his knees knocking against the piano. He shrieked a sound that could only be likened to that of a little girl, and flew to the wall, his back pressed up against it. For the split second before he realized what was actually going on, there was pure fear etched onto his face.

Laughter erupted through the house. From Bella at the entryway to the other three Cullens in the room. You couldn't help yourself either. You yanked the mask off of your head and threw it to the ground, laughing so hard that you doubled over.

"What the fuck! You guys are assholes!" Edward yelled, clearly embarrassed that he had been bested. That just made the roaring laughter get louder.

"Oooh! My TikTok has 400 likes!" you said, laying in bed next to Edward as he was rolled onto his side, facing away from you.

"Hmph." he huffed.

"Aw, come on. You're not mad, are you?" you said, turning to place your hand on his shoulder in an attempt to get him to roll over and face you. "You gotta admit, it was funny."

"No 't wasn't." he mumbled, still pouting.

"Edward. Eddy. Baby. Edweird. Sugar plum gumdrops. Hot cakes. Mr Shiny Skin. Big ass. Little ass. Rich Man. Edward. Edward. Edward" you pestered, poking his shoulder.

In an instant, he rolled over and laid on top of you.

"Oof!" you grunted, your lungs wheezing under the added weight. After a second you wrapped your arms around his back. "I really am sorry though. But you do have to give credit where credit's due."

He thought about it for a second. "Fine. You guys did a good job, you really did get me," he laughed, then thought for a second more. "But if this happens again, you're driving yourself to school for a whole year."

"Hey wait we can talk about this-"

[daenysx]

HELLO! i'm so happy to share this with you, i really hope you like it. uni kinda messes with my head but i'm hoping to keep writing, it really helps me distract myself. i love you all, thank you for being patient with me ♡

"hello?"

"i think your boyfriend's gonna kill me."

"you mean your brother?"

you can almost picture aegon frowning as he holds the phone and talks to you. he must have done something to annoy aemond, now he's calling you. classic.

"for the record, it's not my fault. i didn't do anything, he just got angry for no reason."

you smile, knowing that's not true. "are you sure?"

"yes. maybe. he needs to be nice to me, okay? i'm older than him."

"yeah, but why don't you say this to him?"

"wha-have you seen him getting angry? he can actually kill me, my life is in danger right now."

you huff quietly. "what can i do for you?"

"thank god, you finally asked. okay, he is in his office now, can you come here to take him out for lunch? we have a lot to do, and everyone here is stressed out because of aemond."

"everyone? i thought it's just you-"

"yeah, literally everyone. they are terrified that he's gonna snap again and we need a peaceful hour without him, please? just make him go back to normal, calm him down for the rest of the day and i'll get you your favorite wine-or a car-whatever you want."

you nod even though he can't see you. "fine, i'll be there in 15 minutes."

"thank fuck."

you do as you promise, 15 minutes and you see aegon's figure. you wave at him, he exhales with relief when he sees you. "he's inside."

you smile, knock the door. you hear aemond's stern voice, "aegon, don't even bother to come in, i'm not gonna-" he stops when he sees you by the door, wearing a pretty sundress. "can i come in?" you ask with a sweet voice.

he stands up, leaves his chair. "of course, sweetling, don't even have to ask."

he opens his arms for you, and you wrap your arms around his waist as he holds you close. he inhales the scent of your hair, and you are more than happy to be surrounded with his air. "i wasn't expecting you."

you take a step back, his hands in yours. "i thought i'd make a surprise to you."

"mhm, that's not the truth." aemond targaryen can be a human version of a lie detector, other than the fact that he knows you so well.

"aegon called. he is afraid you'll kill him." you say with a chuckle. "where is your tie? you left home wearing the black one."

he huffs, "i threw it out somewhere. he made me so angry, do you even know what he did-"

"no, i don't, but you can tell me all about it when we're having lunch."

he cups your cheek. "baby, it would be perfect, but there are so many things i have to do, he made a mess of everything i've been working on."

you look at him with a hopefully charming look. "please? don't you have just half an hour to spend with me?"

you know it's working with the way his lips curve into a subtle smile. you kiss his chin, his bottom lip. your hands cover his neck, his shoulders still stiff. your hand finds his hairline on the back of his neck and you scratch his scalp with your nails, knowing how much he likes it.

"you're too tense." you whisper as you kiss the skin under his ear. "let me distract you."

"i thought you offered lunch. if you keep kissing me like this, we will be doing something else."

you shrug, lips curved into a sly smile. "anything works for me, handsome."

he kisses your forehead and looks back at the papers he has to work on. he leaves your side for just a second to close his laptop and put the papers neatly on the table. he takes his phone and comes back to you, a hand on your waist as he leads you outside.

aemond doesn't spare a single glance at aegon as you leave. you can swear his assistant takes a deep breath when she sees you walking out of the office. aegon winks at you, you offer him a slow smile. it's funny how everyone in the office is intimidated by your boyfriend when you know he's an actual sweetheart for you.

he pushes you against the side of his car when you leave the office completely. there's no one else in the parking lot other than you. aemond cups your cheeks and kisses your lips without breathing. "have i told you how pretty you look in this dress?"

you shake your head with a shy smile. he pushes your hair back from your face, thumb rubbing the highest point of your cheek.

"that's a shame." he kisses your upper lip. "you look so pretty, making me forget about everything just by showing up at my room."

"just wanted-" your breath catches in your throat as he kisses the tip of your nose. "just wanted to make you feel better."

"yeah?" he asks. "you're the best thing ever happened to me, hear that? a perfect girl, only for me."

you decide to try something else. "do you think you could skip going back to work for the rest of the day? we can spend some alone time after lunch."

he pauses for a moment, presses his forehead against yours. "i think i can do that."

you get excited for having your boyfriend all to yourself for a day. "really?"

he smiles at your cheerfulness. "of course. anything for my girl." he kisses your forehead. "also i don't want to see aegon's face again for today."

you smile. "i know you're mad at him but we should be grateful for him calling me. thanks to aegon, we'll have all day to ourselves."

he chuckles like you make the funniest joke. "yeah, all thanks to aegon."

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

Fit for a King - WIP - "You are tiny"

Fit for a King - Masterlist

König fanfiction scenes and chapters that do not yet have a coherent plot

planned content/TW: rivals to lovers, König x fem!character (not too descriptive to make it accessible for more readers), social anxiety killing machine König, badass friendly FMC, dual POV, secret relationship, switch energy, NSFW, adult themes, strong language, violence (more details are still unclear, gonna update as I go), authentic austrian german

a/n: well, my brain isn't letting go of this newest obsession of mine, so I will appease it and write some scenes/chapters that come to mind. i have written more original work and less fanfictions and our boy (and KorTac) is hard to research, but I'll try my best to stay some-what cannon to the lore. it'll also probably get darker down the road.

if your character doesn't have a tragic backstory, why not give him one?

A not so meetcute

(CW: some mature language)

I strut along the hallway, I'm already late to report for duty and turn the corner abruptly. I collide with somebody else at full walking force and almost get pushed to the floor, if the big figure blocking the light shining from above wouldn't have caught me. "Ouch.", I yelp, more surprised than hurt, even though I feel like ran over by a truck.

I steady myself to look at the "truck". I look up and I keep looking up and up. At first there's just this chest, a huge chest, in a simple compression shirt, but oh boy. The weapon holster is what I see next, sitting snug at the side of his torso. Shoulders, big broad shoulders, and normally you would expect to have a head sitting on top of them and a face looking back at you. I guess, he has one as well, even though I don't see one bit of it. I strain my neck to finally meet his eyes.

But all I see is the dark black of a… sniperhood? A T-shirt? I mean, it looks like a t-shirt, that somebody cut holes in to fashion themselves a kind of mask. The front is stained with bleach, two streaks coming down from the eyeholes... My eyes widen as it sinks in who this is. König. KorTac operator, field combatant and one of my superiors. Shit. I've heard some rumors about him. And it seems like at least some of them ring true.

"You are tiny.", he states matter-of-factly, his Austrian accents shining through the uttered words. It's the first thing he says to me. "And you are... not.", I retort. I can't make out his expression as it so obviously is hidden by his mask. He nods, turns around and heads down the hallway where he came from. I shake my head. What the hell was that?

I stretch myself, feeling the impact of the collision already. My god, that was like being hit by a battering ram. I heard that his specialty is breaking down doors with brute force. I thought this to be ridiculous, but now as I watch the gigantic muscled man strut down the hallway, quickly disappearing, I do believe it. 6'10" killing machine. Ridiculous.

I shake my head again and make my way to the meeting room. Ridgeback is already waiting for me.

______________________________________________________________

Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Verdammt. Ah, des hast du ganz super g'macht.* I tell myself sarcastically in my head as I basically run down the hallway. She must be one of the new hires. Must be. And you almost turned her to mush. Mus. Brei. Human remains splattered against the wall. I curse myself again. I didn't even apologize. "You are tiny." No shit, Sherlock, everybody is tiny compared to you. I continue to mock myself. Fuck, Shit, Fuck.

"Ridge, since when do we hire children?", I ask him as soon as I enter the room. He doesn't even look up. "We don't." He keeps reading. "Then why did I just almost run over a recruit that didn't even reach my waist?" – “Because compared to you, everybody seems tiny.” He sighs and looks up at me. “None of our personnel are under 6’, not even the women.”

“Even the new recruits?”, I ask him again. He furrows his brow. “What did you do, König?”, he wants to now. “I may or may not have almost trampled one of them.”, I say, kleinlaut***. He sighs again. “I think that was Müller, she’s actually on her way here.”, Ridgeback says. “Müller? Is she german?”, I ask in surprise. I didn’t hear such an accent on her, but to be fair, she only said like three words… and I wasn’t really paying attention to her words anyway.

On cue, the door opens and I fall silent. “Permission to enter, Sir?”, she says with a clear voice. Not at all seeming like I almost turned her into pulp. I take two steps back to stand in the back, trying to blend into the wall behind me – which I already know from experience is not going to work. “Come in.”, Ridge says. “Müller, right?” She nods and approaches. My focus is fully on her, all the small bits I noticed about her before are still there. She’s not wearing a mask because it’s not necessary off mission. You know, like you normally would. She has laugh lines. Around her eyes and mouth. Fucking laugh lines. She doesn’t look like she belongs here.

The two of them are talking, but I catch every single time when her gaze lands on me, even if it’s just from the corner of her eyes. I fight against the urge to turn away every time she looks at me, when I hear Ridgeback drop the old s-word. Sniper.

My ears perk up and I finally pay attention to what they’re saying again. “Your track record is almost immaculate, Müller. You’re gonna be an asset to the team on the next missions.”, he says to her. I can see that she tries to hold back a proud expression or smile on her face, but she doesn't really succeed at that. God damn it, a sniper. I groan and make my way to the door which doesn’t go unnoticed. “König.”, Ridgeback pipes up. “You wanna show Müller the way to the dorms?” as I already have my hand on the doorknob.

I still for just a moment and the roaring sensation of anxiety seeps at my feet and crawls up my body until it’s nested at the back of my head. I can’t talk to her. Not after embarrassing myself before. “Nein.”, is all I say before I’m out the door.

*God damnit. You did a really bang up job. ** two different words for pulp/mash *** meekly (word for word: 'smallloud')

[aster-draws]

YOU.

I cant even begin to formulate a sentence to convey how much i adore better halves. I even started writing my very first fic beacuse of it.

On that note: i have no clue what I'm doing. Any tips for writing? I'm thinking specifically when it comes to dialogue, but any and all advice is appreciated!

consider me pinned to the floor like that one cat with the onions (sorry it took so long for me to reply- work school adult responsibilities ect)

Wow I'm so happy to hear you started writing! Genuinely it brings me so much joy and to know I'm inspiring others is like. you know. tear jerking or whatever.

I don't really have many tips apart from like, the fact that it's the same as any other skill, right- you're gonna suck at it a little at first. I wrote so much crap by volume it's insane. If you don't believe me there is evidence way back on my a03 page (and there's a lot more that isn't. hundreds of thousands of words in my google docs). Sometimes I still feel like I'm just writing trash. so you just keep on trucking and then it gets more and more decent. until eventually it's like. good. ish.

As for specific advice with dialogue- I talk through my stuff all the time. i read it out loud to myself and also anyone who will listen. I feel like better halves specifically takes a lot of cues from like early 2000's rom coms, specifically in dialect, most of MY favorites of which are adapted from shakespeare, and so I wouldn't exactly call the way they speak natural, if that makes sense? People don't talk like that. But I think it's fun and genre. But even with that, there's a lot of more of it that is? I just hear them in my head.

So yeah moral of the story is to just write all the time and read it out loud if you're not sure. It's gonna be a lot faster to figure out what's wrong than to figure out the way to fix it. The best advice I have for how to develop an ear about it is to read. A lot. The more you read and the more variety you read the better your ear/eye will get for it. unfortunately this means reading a broader variety of stuff. i read a lot of fanfiction, but also literary fiction, classics, non fiction. don't get stuck by genre and push to read more difficult things because it really can change the way you think and approach your own work

yeah xo you're gonna create amazing things I believe in you.

[allastoredeer]

I'm with you there on preferring bottom!Alastor and getting squicked out by top!Alastor. The squick is worse for me when searching radioapple than radiostatic stuff, and I think it has more to do with the egregious amount of uke-fication of Lucifer that I've seen. Vox and Al get it sometimes too, let's be real that's gonna happen in any mlm ship. But I feel like it happens SO often to Lucifer, mostly cause he's small and cute, that people completely forget he's the oldest and most powerful entity in hell.

He would NOT be genuinely scared or intimidated by Al or any other sinner for that matter and Al would NOT be able to physically overpower or threaten Luci. It just feels so wildly out of character for me that any of the appeal of the ship/characters is gone at that point.

Like, for real, no shade to anyone that likes that, go on and get your food. But my extreme dislike of it has me now avoiding bottom!Lucifer radioapple like the plague just so I don't risk being subjected to it.

I think...I think you just described why I feel so squicked out by bottom!Lucifer and top!Alastor 😦 Like, I couldn't figure out what exactly about it was throwing me off, but you just said it perfectly!!

That's literally it! It's the uke-fication of Lucifer. That's it. Lucifer would never feel threatened by Alastor. He would never be overpowered by Alastor. So when I see depictions of Alastor successfully intimidating Lucifer, or overpowering him at all, it just throws me out of the story.

Lucifer's been alive longer than Hell. Alastor's measely 100+ years of being alive is nothing compared to his millennia+ lifespan. And yeah, Lucifer is the strongest person in Hell, he could beat Alastor in any fight, no question. He has no reason to be scared or threatened by him.

And look, there are ways to get Lucifer to a point of being afraid. There are always a way to make characters act in a way you wouldn't typically see. In fact, Lucifer, the biggest, baddest person in Hell, being threatened by something would be a huge thing for his character and for the story. That could totally work!

But when it comes from Alastor just going into his demon form, or looming over Lucifer, I just 🥲 it takes me out of the story. I can't. Alastor may be a big bad Overlord, and he's dangerous for sure, but like...power-wise he is just not on Lucifer's level and Lucifer knows that--Alastor knows that--and this is what makes their dynamic so, SO interesting, especially if they're in a relationship or slowly building into a relationship. That's what makes it so spicy and flavorful. The push and pull. The insecurity and emotion. The complex dynamic between them.

I think you're right about it making bottom!Lucifer and top!Alastor lose its appeal. I went back through my Twitter bookmarks yesterday and found a few top!Alastor's & bottom!Lucifer's that I've saved, but I've come to dislike that generalized characterization of it so much that I avoid it it like the plague too.

And like you said, there's no hate to those who enjoy it. This is fandom and people are allowed to write, draw, and do what they want. It's all fiction and it's not hurting anyone.

I just don't like the top!Alastor & bottom!Lucifer dynamic in most fan-arts, and I don't click onto fics with it cause I just don't want to subject myself to an unenjoyable time 😂 I'm here to have fun too, afterall.

[icedroppedinparasolcider]

Thoughts on ena? Feel free to yap as much as you did in three shizuku one!

so, fun fact about me! i was an ena oshi from like. On This Blank Canvas, I Paint ensekai release to about Say Goodbye to Masked Me jpsekai release, when kanade took the crown (it's since ended up in airi's hands, if not obvious). so i have an absolute ton of stuff i could say about ena and figuring out where to even begin is always the hardest part of all of this. i won't even give myself a direction here i'm just gonna stream of consciousness this.

shinonome ena was probably the first character i got genuinely attached to among the cast, and while most of my thoughts and attention have strayed to other characters, she still remains someone i get incredibly insane about (frankly the entire cast does this to me, but ena is one of the highlight characters of this). and a lot of it comes from my reading of On This Blank Canvas, I Paint when it released on ensekai, because that event not only changed ena for me, but how i view the entire game and its story. that event changed my brain chemistry and nothing deserves the claim more than it.

prior to that event, i looked at ena like i do most "mean" characters, with a sort of dismissive attitude due to generally not being a fan of the archetype and the way many pieces of media write them (other fandoms i was part of before prsk largely ruined it for me). but that event, and ena herself completely changed my entire perspective on the character archetype as a whole, and while i still wouldn't say it's my favourite, i am far from dismissive of the character type and many of my favourites from other medias exist within it because i'm actually paying attention to why they're like this. On This Blank Canvas, I Paint was my first exposure to the why, and i've never been able to look away since.

while there's arguments to be made of this factor for every person in it, i personally stand at the opinion that ena is the representation of everything the solid heart class stands for. akito is really close, and he's in contention, but i'll get more into akito later on because there's so much i need to say about their relationship, their parallels, the roles they have in each other's lives and the reflection of these roles onto the people around them. but with solid heart in general, i think that ena exists as an epitome of everything they are, and the fact everyone except ena in-world is able to recognise that only further pushes my point. because unlike akito, ena believes herself a coward on top of being inadequate. she doesn't recognise the strength it requires to keep pushing forward through all this pain, she thinks herself weak for even experiencing it at all. while akito believes himself (at least up to BURN MY SOUL) inferior to his peers, there's not really a moment where he looks at himself as weak for struggling. he simply pushes forward, and Find a Way Out and BURN MY SOUL is the recognition that that is what gives him his power. ena doesn't even consider that possibility until Knowing the Unseen, when she learns about what her father went through.

solid heart is defined by its determination and unflinching will to improve and chase their dreams no matter who or what gets in their way. shiho continuing to practice and search for a band after convincing herself she's better off solo; airi's constant drive to be a better idol and reach the heights she set for herself; akito's refusal to back down from the unbreakable wall of rad weekend despite the entire town telling him he can't do it; nene's constant push through her story to be an actress worthy of the dreams she has. ena is just part of this, chasing the dream that is her art and the desire to garner a following from it, make a career out of it like her father has. she doesn't attach her name to the works of 25ji because she doesn't want its popularity to be the reason her artwork succeeds, she wants the effort and beauty she captures on the canvas to speak for itself. everyone in solid heart carries that wish, for their work to speak for itself, to not take shortcuts on the path to their dreams. most of them aren't offered many opportunities for it to happen, it's really just shiho and ena who have that chance; shiho with the entire event of Resonate with You and ena's combination of being the daughter of a famous artist and the illustrator for a growing musical group. but both of them turn down those short-cuts in the end, because it wouldn't be their dream as they wish it. shiho wouldn't be standing by the sides of those they made that promise with, and ena wouldn't feel like the success is actually hers at all, but rather the success of whatever name she's leaning on.

you can actually see this part of ena in a scene unrelated to her artwork, in Someday, This Wish will Transcend the Morning Sky. when mafuyu gets a call from her mother and ena decides to take over the conversation, there's a moment in it where ena thinks how she'd rather not bring him into the equation right before mentioning her father's name. she doesn't want to be associated with him, for any reason; both because of her problems with shin'ei as a person and her reservations with using the benefits she has through nepotism. she's fully aware she has that advantage, and does whatever she can to separate herself from her father to avoid having it. because it wouldn't feel like it's actually her success. it would feel like her father's success rubbing off on her.

yet, to bring this back to solid heart, despite the struggle she's facing to make a name for herself as an artist and the immense pain she faces trying to improve herself as an artist and a person, she doesn't quit. she nearly has, plenty of times; it's mentioned several times in early stories how often akito would have to step in to stop ena from throwing away and/or breaking all her art supplies and tools during her fits of anger, because he understands how important this venture is to her. he's solid heart too, his equivalent is the music he makes and performs in vivid street. he knows, firsthand, how precious the passion she has for art is, because he's been given that same drive and purpose for a different artform. ena didn't let him give up when he quit soccer, so he won't let her give up. however he can manage to do that.

there's a specifc moment in the stories of solid heart where you can see the moment they decided that giving up and backing away simply isn't an option anymore. shiho is a slight exception to this rule; there was never a moment in their story where they felt they should give up on their dream to become a professional bassist in a band, not once did they ever stop chasing that dream, for even a moment. shiho's shifts were always about how they chase that dream, with Resonate with You being the decision to not leave leo/need's side, and Don't lose faith! being the change of heart to stop holding back for the sake of the band, to let them catch up by knowing what to chase. but for airi, this happened in the more more jump main story; the recognition of minori's potential as an idol because of her refusal to simply give up, mixed with the mistake of her lashing out at shizuku when she shares the news that she'll be quitting her idol work, kicks airi back to a point of realisation of just how important to her being an idol is, and that she can't afford to just leave it behind. for akito, this happens during rad weekend; after having abandoned sports due to believing he's not dedicated enough, and ena introducing him to the world of music at the summer festival, his entire body and purpose is lit up by the emotional weight of rad weekend, giving him something to strive for and a reason to endure the constant loss that will come with chasing that dream. for nene, pieces of this occur in the wxs main story, but she's truly pushed into the unrelenting determination of solid heart with On a Holy Night, with This Singing Voice and the recognition of her potential from sakurako managing to grab at her competitive spirit and give her something to fight for; something brought to an extreme with The Canary Sings in a Quagmire as nene pushes herself harder than ever before to break down a barrier in her skill.

for ena, this moment was On This Blank Canvas, I Paint. while she never completely gave up on art before this moment, and Insatiable Pale Colour shows how much she wants to fight for her art and gives us a taste of her willingness to keep going, it pales in comparison to the scene captured in the On This Blank Canvas, I Paint untrained ena card. that moment is the decision that completely pivots the direction of ena's entire story into what she's become in modern project sekai. the decision to not look away—to stop looking away. ena is facing her art in a way she was never willing to before, a way she depicted herself in the art piece being critiqued avoiding. the ena of the past would've run away after hearing the harsh words yukihira had to say. we see, in the event, what happened the last time yukihira was harsh about ena's work: she completely broke down and it was the final straw to the shattering of her fragile self-esteem. but during the return to her art classes, which itself is a monumental step due to the pain attached to them, ena made the decision to stop running away. to take whatever yukihira had to say about her art and make it matter, make it have an impact on her growth as an artist. so she sits there, all the memories of the suffering she's gone through fresh on her mind and burning into her, and takes in the criticism. she doesn't fight back like she always had with 25ji, she doesn't look away like she did the last time. these are her failures, and she needs to take responsibility for them. because that's the only way to fix them.

On This Blank Canvas, I Paint also gives us a lot of insight into ena's relationship with shin'ei. not necessarily as much as Insatiable Pale Colour does, since that's a proper introduction to and exploration of their dynamic as both father and daughter and from artist to artist, but On This Blank Canvas, I Paint gives us the invaluable context around the moment that broke their relationship. how much ena had been going through already, how excited she was to continue chasing art, the way shin'ei completely shot her down from the high of being praised by yukihira—something we learn in that event is exceptionally rare—and the actions the next day of yukihira unintentionally confirming for ena everything shin'ei said. that, as she was then, she would never survive or succeed as an artist.

something i don't see really any recognition or mention of is just how much of a part yukihira had to play in ena's collapsed mental health. he was the one to convince her that she could make it by giving her praise, something that ena has always been attached and attracted to because of the lifelong emotional neglect of shin'ei. her receiving that praise from someone she looked up to as a professional and understood that the praise itself is a rarity from him resulted in a complete overblowing of ena's ego, the instant belief that she has what it takes and would be able to make it into and survive art schools with ease. that bubble is popped by shin'ei's words, the outright disapproval of her dream and doubt in her ability to chase that dream (at least, that's how ena takes it; we learn later on that isn't what shin'ei intended to happen). then, the following day, during a very fragile moment where she's reliant on the approval of a professional, yukihira continues to tear ena down with the statement that she'd never make it as an artist if all she looks for is praise. an echoed, if more specific, sentiment to shin'ei's own words. it breaks her. ena would probably be in a much better mental state, though still fragile, were it just shin'ei that knocked her down. but yukihira kicked her while she was down. and that proved to be too much.

i understand why yukihira gets less attention from the fandom, since ena's own story has a stronger focus on what shin'ei did to her than what yukihira did, and what shin'ei did is ultimately the one ena's mind has attached to as evident by the constant flashes to his words in her earlier stories and the entire nightmare sequence of And Now, This Ribbon is Tied, which i can hardly blame her for finding shin'ei's actions more damaging. despite the evidently bad parenting shin'ei has done for either shinonome, even before The SceneTM (akito had it is in his mind that success is impossible without talent even before finding music, and there's a lot of little details across side-stories that imply shin'ei has never been the most attentive father: my favourite of which being ena pushing him into a lake during a camping trip because he wasn't paying enough attention to her. the shinonomes appear to be really bad at communicating and even processing their own feelings, even before the moment ena and shin'ei's relationship fully collapsed, and i think a lot of it comes down to shin'ei being a neglectful and borderline absent father for both of them), ena clearly trusted and believed in shin'ei opinions as both her father and a professional artist by the way she used to study his work to improve her own, the way she went to him for advice on what art school to pick. shin'ei's action was ultimately a betrayal of all of that trust, and i personally believe their relationship is impossible to mend after that, at least to a degree that the shinonome household will be a safe space for either child again (unfortunately, i'm speaking from experience).

i had more to say and if it comes back to me i might reblog with even more yapping but i've completely lost my train of thought due to being distracted and cannot bring it back for the life of me. so i'm just posting this now. have fun ena fans

[amelias-zelda-calamity-quintet]

Feeling like I should write these down cause eventually I'm gonna post a screenshot of my Word docs and y'all are gonna see all my weird formatting, so let's get ahead of it! Writing tips with me! I hope some of these help folks, this is just what helps me. I've produced like 500k words of relatively edited work in two months using these, so. I shouldn't horde them in case they can help more folks. There aren't a lot, but I hope they help.

Reformat your doc to the page size you'd want to print the work in if you're working in a word processor that can do that. Even if it's fanfic! Figure out the size you'd want to hold the book at and work from there. I promise you, it feels way more motivating to get work done on a 6x9 doc than 8.5x11.

Another format tip, reformat your work in a font and font size that makes it easy to read. I write in Comic Sans myself! Writing already takes up a huge amount of brain power thinking of words, don't add to the challenge by adding hoops to rereading them for edits. You can always reformat after.

Get some kind of notes app. World Anvil, Campfire, I recommend Obsidian, which is free! World bible docs are great, but nested wikis are way easier to sift through.

If you prefer writing linearly, like I do, make sure you have a doc to write down other scenes when you think of them. This has saved me so much heartbreak, even just having an outline of ideas and quote ideas.

If you're going to write a series, pick how many books are in it by overcount, not undercount. It is typically more noticeable that a series has been stretched than it has been shortened.

Try the other side of plotter/pantser just a little. I used to be a hardcore pantser, but my writing improved scores when I started doing even just a little more plotter work. I still do mostly outlines, and I have presaved templates in Obsidian to help make notetaking easier on thin notes, but I promise it helps.

Don't compare yourself to others! I know I led with the 500k figure (because it is impressive) but everyone writes at different paces. Mine is influenced in no small part by autistic hyperfocus on my story at the moment. In amount of writing is still creating and still holds value.

Make a habit, and set it low. I tell myself I need to get a sentence done in a day. Convincing myself that getting something, even low, has pushed me more to get back to work than setting incredibly high word counts ever did. It's ok to have low inspiration days.

[teenandbeyond]

I've noticed your predator/alien franchise doesn't have anything for xenomorph. Let's change that lol. Could I get something that has a similar storyline like the one that says dark reader on it the one where the reader is obsessed with aliens.. It's made me curious tbh

Xenomorph x Dark. Reader

Mx. Anonymous, you read my mind! I was wondering when someone would request this! And you don't need to apologize, since it's fanfiction, we're just gonna say eff reality for a moment (even though the whole thing is fictional...but you get it).

Want more from me, my Infinites (I'm trying out a follower name thing lol. I'll probably shuffle through random ass names until one works)? 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

👽Discoveries👽 (Aliens)

Warning(s): Dark Fic (dunno if it came out as dark as I wanted), Non-con details, unprotected, triggering(?), size difference, I don't know where I went with this (this is what happens when I write parts at different times, I guess)

Sometimes experimentation leads to temptation...

✨✨✨✨✨✨

"You're crazy, [Last Name]!"

You tapped the end of your pen against your lip in thought before smiling, "Maybe, but crazy gets better results than normal. Ask any of the greatest geniuses, they'll tell you."

You were labeled as the crazy scientist because you suggested cross breeding. Between Xenomorph—or Aliens, the term used for common folk—and humans.

'It's impossible!'

'It's wrong! Don't you have any morals?' they cried.

'You want to talk to me about morals? Ha! Who are the ones who take creatures as they please and experiment to their heart's content, past what's necessary, simply for nosiness and fear of not knowing everything?'

You always shut them up any time they felt a need to comment on you.

"Sometimes the most impossible things can be made possible," you muttered as you scribbled something in your many notebooks dedicated to this theory.

You could admit you were pretty obsessed with Xenomorphs, you found them fascinating. You studied them with a passion.

You wanted one...and the opportunity came when a group of scientists arrived with a captured Xenomorph.

They were studying it to come up with a defense against them, you, among a few other scientists decided to spectate.

And all hell broke loose.

Turns out, someone from the group had gotten infected. You had to figure that out when a man's stomach burst open.

There was panic as the other scientists fell victim, until the newest creature was contained.

The two aliens were to be stored away since the team leading the experiment was now dead, until someone else decided to take it over.

That was your opening.

You took the fully grown one to your private lab, where everything was already set up.

The huge cylinder it was in was a little heavy, but you made it work. You pushed a button that would release an anesthetic-type liquid into the fluid the creature was summered in.

Once it was confirmed to be unconscious, you released it and properly restrained it, tail and all. You loved risks, but not when the result could stop your experimenting from proceeding...you can't test things if you're dead.

"Now...let's get your vitals connected to my database..." you tapped away at your screen until the patches and machinery you'd connected to it did their job, "There you are...and you are a very healthy Xenomorph."

You went through a few experiments of merging DNA samples, but something was missing. You couldn't figure out what it was.

You were disturbed from your deep thoughts by a pathetic escape attempt behind you.

"Oh, you're awake. I should introduce myself," you approached the alien carefully, "I'm your caretaker. And you're all mine for the time being."

It continued to struggle, hissing at you as you calmly took off your lab coat and put on gloves.

"Now, for a physical examination..."

Your hand slowly trailed down the alien's head and jaw, raising a brow as its struggle turned hesitant.

You heard a rumbling sound from its throat, the mouth covering muffling it.

"So...you aren't completely adverse to touch, hm?"

Then you explored its shoulders and arms, you trailed lower to its sides.

"Everything seems to be in order so far...You really are a beautiful specimen..." you sighed in fascination.

You were mesmerized and edging towards getting aroused.

And the alien could smell it, it was reacting.

Visibly reacting.

You smirked, "Oh...well, look at that. I've made the discovery of a lifetime."

So much research had been done, but never have sexual organs been found on an alien. But you supposed it wasn't common for someone to show arousal in their presence.

"Standing at attention just for me...What should I do with you?"

You were absolutely breathless.

But who could blame you, you were stretched to your limits. And there were still quite a few inches of it that didn't fit inside.

There was some defiance at the beginning, but this alien would just be the next being to know you always got what you wanted in the end.

And the hotter you got and the louder you got, ashamed defiance turned into lustful acceptance.

You balanced on your hands best you could, your feet also supporting you, but they were beginning to become less reliant the more they curled.

Its skin felt cool and smooth, a stark contrast to your heat and muscle. It made you shiver in the best ways as you slowly slid up and down.

"I think I might—keep you."

You were becoming more obsessed by the minute, perhaps your rationality was being manipulated by the smell of sex and sweat.

Or maybe because the alien tried and failed to keep itself quiet, sensitive to your every move.

A cute little virgin it was.

All yours to use as you've wanted. You could possibly get a sample once you were done, see if it gave different results.

Everything was in your control, until it wasn't.

The alien decided it'd had enough of your slow pace.

It thrusted up in quick strokes, making your body move so quickly it looked like it was shaking.

With a groan, your nails dug into its arms, then you gasp as it breaks out of its restraints.

For a moment, you think it'll attack, and it does.

It flips you under and bullies itself back into you, forcing in every inch.

A brutal attack that leaves you trying to catch your breath.

With a growl behind its mask, it pummels into you.

With fascination, you feel the bulge it creates and swear you can see it, but you're a little disoriented right now.

Your vision flashes from the pleasure and pain, your body is tingling.

"You—You're my discovery to keep," you grin.

[bernardellinewsagency]

Alright, I'm at ~5k words for this explicit Gallagher/Sunday fic, the "important stuff" still hasn't even happened yet, and I'm probably going to pretty easily reach at least 7-8k words by the time I'm done with this chapter. And I'm looking at making this a six chapter story and not just a oneshot so that could be, what, ~42-48k words in total if I keep at this pace? Maybe I should just make it a oneshot, but fuck it, I'm gonna post a preview of it to try and inspire myself to make it as long as my gay little heart desires.

It doesn't really have a title though. I've just been calling it the dreamjolt au. Or more appropriately, the "what if the Dreamjolt Hostelry is a queer kink club in a modern au" au. I mean, that does give pretty much most of what you'd need to know about it, so...

Anyways, hiding my ramblings about details under the cut, as well as the preview cause I thought I had picked a short snippet that I could use to try and showcase the story and my writing and all that good stuff. Nope. It's a thousand words. What the hell.

Gallagher is, of course, still a bartender within this au. I originally came up with the au, then I had the idea of a six chapter story where all the chapters are named after his eidolons since those are all cocktail names, wherein the plot would primarily focus on interactions between him and Sunday and conversations they'd have while he'd serve Sunday various drinks, which would be the cocktails from the chapter titles. Then I thought hey, what if I combined these, and now I'm looking at pushing myself to not just abandon this story halfway through. The things I do for the sake of hot yet emotional and character driven Galladay fics...

Sunday, of course, is the son of a megachurch leader. Because I thought about it, and realized that oh yeah, Gopher Wood probably would just be a weird megachurch leader who's really more like a cult leader but shh, no one needs to know about that. So, you know, he's a bit fucked up because of that sort of upbringing, but honestly he might be chiller than his canonical self. He's really fun to write though, it's always interesting to try and get into character as him so that his dialogue sounds just like him.

Other details include: Siobhan as the club's owner and lifelong friend of Gallagher's, Mikhail as Gallagher's previous partner before he passed away, Gallagher raising Mikhail's son Misha, and the Astral Express crew and other HSR characters who will eventually be making appearances. So far, only March has, because I desperately needed to include her being the biggest lesbian of all time.

OKAY ONTO THE PREVIEW:

As he’s busy thinking of how to approach the younger man, the situation is taken from his hands by the very target he’s looking for. “Can I help you?” he calls from afar, while Gallagher is still a few tables away from where he’s seated.

Damn, he’s perceptive. His eyes take on a certain soul piercing quality as he gets closer; a shocking gold color that would freeze a lesser man in place, at least until they realized it’s mostly only because of how the light is reflecting. “Yeah, actually, you can,” Gallagher replies once he’s closer and won’t have to raise his voice so much to be heard. “Is this chair taken?”

He can tell what Sunday is thinking of, as those gorgeous eyes rake up and down his figure. He knows that the two of them must seem like polar opposites, he’s never cared about keeping his work clothes presentable while the preacher’s son looks like he’s never had even a hair out of place. His inquiry is met with a raised eyebrow, but Sunday shakes his head after just a moment more. “No, no, go ahead and take it.”

“Great!”

When Sunday shifts to glare at him, he can see that his eyes are more brown than gold, but no less alluring. “Apologies, I assumed you would be taking the chair itself, not sitting down here.”

“Sorry. You’re not waiting for anyone, are ya?” Of course he wouldn’t be, Siobhan definitely didn’t describe the man as the type to be meeting anyone here. “Just wanted to try and talk to one of the most handsome looking men here, nothing more to it if you don’t want there to be.” If Sunday is surprised by what he’s saying at all, he doesn’t show it, just like how he doesn’t immediately shake Gallagher’s hand when he sticks it out. “Gallagher, nice to meet you.”

“Sunday,” comes the eventual reply, stunning Gallagher with the use of his real first name. He doesn’t shake Gallagher’s hand though, leaving him to awkwardly retract it. “You work here, yes?”

It’s a pretty stilted attempt at starting up a conversation, and it sounds like a script to social interaction long since memorized with the way that Sunday says it. Gallagher can picture how those captivating eyes would look reading through a long article on how to converse with someone you wish would go away. He doesn’t go away though, just humors the question. “Bartender, security, whatever the boss lady needs me to do for the night. Not the most cushy job, but it helps to pay the bills.”

“Which is this?” Sunday then asks, confusing Gallagher into silence as he waits for an explanation. “If this is ‘bartending’, then this is just a friendly chat with a patron. Or, are you chatting with me merely as a guise for ‘security’?”

“What the fuck? That’s some weird fucking logic, you know that, right?” He has to resist the urge to laugh. Everything about the situation seems hilarious to him now, right down to whatever the hell Sunday is saying. “Most patrons just talk ‘bout what scenes they want to try, not play mind games or whatever you’re up to.”

Sunday takes a sip from his glass of water, his face remarkably impassive throughout. “I don’t think this is any sort of mind game, Mister Gallagher. I saw you speaking with your boss while looking right at me, and then you came over and attempted to strike up a casual conversation. Perhaps you’re no different than the patrons of this establishment, interested in a pretty face, or perhaps there was no reason for me to introduce myself as all, seeing as you may have already known my name.”

“And if I did?”

Something in Sunday changes, hearing that. His posture slumps, losing some of its rigidity as he visibly frowns for once. “Then I would say that I don’t wish to indulge any questions you may have, so you may as well ask them directly, the response would be the same as if you tried to ask them in some roundabout manner.”

“And what if I really did just come over here ‘cause I wanted you to indulge me in something else?”

Sunday’s posture is back to rigid and ramrod straight, though this time it seems to be because he’s shocked. “Elaborate?” he asks, hisses more like, teeth clenched so tight it’s gotta hurt. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked like that. Actually, Gallagher thinks, it’s likely he’d be met with hostility no matter how he asked.

Leaning back in his seat, he resists the urge to smirk at how out of his depth the younger man looks. “It’s true, I knew your name before I came over here, and yeah, I am pretty curious ‘bout why you, of all people, are frequenting the Dreamjolt. I also ain’t much better than the other patrons here, and I’m definitely interested in a certain pretty face. And if it’s any benefit, I know better than most of the patrons than to ask questions you don’t wanna answer.”

He watches as Sunday worries a lip between his teeth, biting at chapped skin. “You’re…” he trails off, but he relaxes a few scant degrees as he takes in the situation.

“Propositioning you?” Gallagher fills in the blank for him. “Yup. You do know how the Dreamjolt works and what people usually do here, right?”

“I- Of course I do!” Sunday scoffs at him, but it also gets him to slightly grin, the sight of which counts as a win in Gallagher’s books. “I didn’t just blindly pick this place to come to, I’ll have you know.” 

Gallagher thinks for a moment of asking why he picked the Dreamjolt of all places before deciding against it. He won’t press his luck asking questions that Sunday doesn’t want to answer. Maybe he’ll get him to open up in his own time, but certainly not tonight. “So you are aware, that’s good. Look, I dunno your taste or type, but if it changes anything, I’ve been doing this for a long time. While I wouldn’t really call myself professional, if you’re ever looking to spend a night here not just sittin’ all alone, I’d be honored to offer my, uh, services to someone as good looking as you.”

Sunday flushes, yet the way his brows furrow sends rather mixed messages. “Do you really think I need such… company, in my life?” he eventually says.

If it sounds that much like a deflection, that’s probably what it is. Gallagher tries to take it in stride; he did come into this talk thinking that it might take a bit of work, and it’s still at least easier than trying to talk some sense into drunks like he can faintly hear Siobhan trying to accomplish. “Honestly? Yeah. You’ve got this look about you, one that I’ve seen on too many good men deep in their own struggles. And you’re intriguing, what can I say? If I could possibly help ya out, then I’d like to be able to do so.”

ANDDDDDD that is where I'll cut myself off. Not really sure how to end this, but feel free to let me know what you think, and if anyone might be interested in being like, a beta reader or anything, uh, that'd be really cool! Never had one of those before but I'm open to new experiences :)

[dorylinae-supremacy]

Superstition sequel bullet point list as promised! It adds up to like 1K I think so enjoy!

This is vaguely what a lot of my fics look like behind the scenes before I write something properly so enjoy that peek into my fresh hell.

No specific TW's in this really just talks of curses, some emotional hurt and light betrayal. Nothing uncommon. Also everyone but Tech is dark here but its more hinted at for Wil and Tommy than shown.

Also also Tommy is Kristin and Phils baby they probably had a bit after officially adopting Techno. Unrelated context but he's here too because I'm forcing myself into writing more.

Lovely family dinner

Techs older now

Like maybe 17 or something. I'm bad with ages

Hes angsty and full of dread and thats what matters

Making Wil like 18 or 19

Either way they’re all eating and Phil maybe brings up techs plans for the future (as in asking about them)

Saying they’re happy to wait as long as he needs to choose something but they’re a little worried

Maybe joking that they won’t always be here to guide him

Tech kinda slumping further back in his seat and not really being responsive

Wil maybe bringing up war stuff and saying he seems to like that

Maybe gently nudging tech towards that

Tech grumbling a bit about it

Tommy maybe weighing in and maybe teasing him 

Kristin spotting he’s not really enjoying it and telling the others to lay off, he’ll figure out his stuff in his own time

Tommy maybe pushing and asking why he won’t just pick 

Tech maybe snapping and saying it doesn’t matter since he’ll have to leave the kingdom anyway

Room going silent

Phil asking what he means by that

Tech just repeating that he’s gonna have to leave and never return anyway so it doesn’t matter what he does

Internal hurt where he wants to help and stay but he can’t because of The Curse

Kristin trying to ask more and Tech saying that he’s cursed and they don’t have to be soft about it anymore

Silence

Phil putting his stuff down and calmly asking Wil and Tommy to continue dinner while they talk to tech in the hallway

Tech getting up and the chair scraping, maybe even falling over

Kristin trying to say that the curse is cured or whatever but tech saying she doesn’t have to lie to him anymore

Phil being quiet and just kinda observing

Tech ranting that he knows he’s still cursed and they only did that to try help him mentally but he’s not their real kid like Tommy and Wil are so they don’t have to worry anymore 

He’s old enough to deal with it on his own and when he’s 18 he’ll leave

Kristin asking why he’d ever leave them and guilting him

It working

Tech saying that they’re right from earlier, they won’t be here forever and that’s the problem. When Kristin can’t kiss the curse away or do whatever she was doing to cure it, it’ll come back and hurt everyone else

So he’ll just leave 

Maybe saying he’ll write letters or something and that it’s for the best

Kristin starting to reply

Phil cutting her off and saying maybe it’s time for the truth, still very calm

Kristin arguing and saying that they need to keep it hidden

Phil pointing at tech and saying that keeping it hidden has caused all this mess so they might as well just come clean and deal with the fallout

Kristin not being happy but not arguing

“The curse didn’t kill your parents, Techno”

“I’m not a kid anymore you don’t have to lie-“

“I’m not lying” Phil’s voice was cold and matter of fact “that’s not what killed your parents”

“Then what did? What could’ve possibly-“

“We did” Kristin cut him off, sending a shock of cold through him “it was us. All  of it. There is no curse that’s just… just something you won’t let go of.”

Obviously there’s an argument

Tech calling them monsters

Them saying they’re his parents

Him saying he wishes he didn’t have any if it meant killing the rest of his family for them

Them pointing out how badly he was treated

Him saying he’d rather that then be allowed to believe in some made up curse

Him saying he won’t report it to anyone but he’s leaving, he can't be around them after this

Phil laughing and tech pausing

Him asking if he really thinks that’s an option

Tech saying that of course it is

Phil smiling and tilting his head, saying to get back to his dinner as it’s getting cold

Kristin maybe also trying to coax him

Tech calling them insane and saying that he’s not going back

Phil telling him again to go back but this time much less friendly

Tech laughing at how ridiculous it is and being like “you know what? Fine” and slamming the door back open

Him going up to the table and slamming down on it cutting Wil off from asking if he’s fine

Tech asking them if they wanna know what he just learned

Kristin warning him against saying it, saying he won’t know the answer

Tech being like “nooo you guys wanted me back in here with dinner. I might as well share this news with the rest of the fucking family”

Him saying that they killed everyone else and that the curse has been a lie

Shock washing over crimeboys

Wil turning to Kristin and Phil and asking if they finally told him

Technos time to be shocked

Tommy joining in and being happy that they don’t have to play along with it anymore

Surprised pikachu face

Phil being very smug

Tech being even more betrayed

Phil sighing and acting all inconvenienced because techs proven he won’t keep his mouth shut

Calling the guards to take him to his room

Tech getting grabbed and dragged away and maybe begging Kristin (who looks very guilty) for help (aww manipulative baby)

Kristin having the guards stop

Tech thinking he’s free

Her coming closer and cupping his face, saying that he’ll always be her baby and that she loves him very much

Him saying he loves her too

Her smiling and giving him a kiss on the forehead

“Then you’ll understand why you have to be locked away for a little.”

Betrayal x2 >:)

Tech crying and fighting and being dragged off to his room

Getting tossed in and hearing the lock clock behind him

Him running up to the window and seeing the garden, remembering when he hid the first time

Him crying

He’ll get used to it I’m sure. His family live him very much he’s just gotta get over the whole murder thing.

And then they love him forever and ever and he loves them back

[jeonminhao]

Home • Minghao

Pairing : Xu Minghao x Fem! Reader

Genre : angst, fluff

Word Count : 1.1K

TW : mention of depression(?)

A.N. I'm trying to go back to writing again, this time with Seventeen :) since I am back into the Kpop world lmao. Pls lmk what you think! <3

"I cry, even without tears now. I cry again, just like breathing. Though I try to take a step away from the sorrow that has become my home, I cry on the doorsill. I cry, even without knowing it myself."

Tablo - 집 (Home) (Feat. Lee Sora)

Minghao stood in front of the glass door, his eyes fixed on the CLOSED sign. The flower bouquet he had been holding was wet from the rain, the petals falling pitifully on the gray pavement from how tight he was clutching the bouquet. He was late. Again. And he wasn’t sure if he’ll be forgiven. He quickly took out his phone once he found a canopy that could shield him from the rain, reading the string of texts you had sent him hours prior.

I am here! It’s pretty crowded. I found a place at the very back of the restaurant so we can talk. Saw Jeonghan and Wonwoo at the restaurant and he said you’re still at the studio? Hao, Where are you?  Is everything ok? It’s been 2 hours so i guess this means you’re not coming or forgot we’re supposed to meet up :) I’m gonna head back home. I think it’s going to rain soon. Don’t forget your umbrella. Text me soon.

He sighed. He didn’t mean to ignore your texts. His phone was set on his usual silent mode whenever he was working on his paintings. He swore he had remembered that you were supposed to meet at 8 PM in this new place Mingyu recommended the other day. He didn’t know when you two started to make this a thing, trying new places once a week and just hangout and talk about your lives. No. He did know. It was your idea and your twinkling eyes that always looked at him as if he was loved and deserving of one. And who could say no to that? To your gentle smile and warm hand that always finds its way wrapped in his. And he did enjoy it. How couldn’t he? He fell in love with you the first time Jeonghan introduced you to the group three years ago and had been ever since. But life seemed to have a way to fuck up everything he desired. 

He knew a bad day was inevitable and the darkness that wrapped around him like a blanket was not an unfamiliar feeling. Every day seemed like a chore. It was just exhausting. Even breathing exhausts him. But he thought it would be different this time. He thought having you by his side would lessen the pain. And maybe it did, to an extent. But he was drowning and he was just exhausted to even want to try. 

As if it wasn’t enough, his art project wasn’t progressing as well as he’d like and he kept scraping layers of paints and changing his canvases when they finally gave up on him. He had destroyed a half finished painting due to frustration and would’ve destroyed the rest of his paintings if you didn’t knock on his studio door.

And in the midst of his worries and struggle, he started to push everyone away. It was better to be alone. The coldness in his heart was more familiar than the warmth of your embrace and he was terrified. It was too foreign for him, the happiness, the warmth, and the feeling of belonging, of being home. 

“Hao?” Minghao startled, eyes quickly focused on the familiar figure standing under a black umbrella. 

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” was all he could say, mouth forming an ‘o’ shape. You were supposed to be mad at him for forgetting your ‘adventures’ for the nth times. You were supposed to throw tantrums and threaten to block him and end this friendship. But there you were, standing in front of him with the black satin dress he bought for you last month and the leather jacket that he realized was also a gift from him. You took tentative steps towards him, a smile blooming in your face once you finally stepped under the canopy.

“You texted me?”

Minghao looked down at his cold hand, the phone on his hand was still on with your chat window opened.

‘Sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m late again. Iloveyou. I’m s osoorry.’

He didn’t even remember when he typed those texts nor did he remember pressing the send button despite the typos.

He reread his text again and froze. “Y/N–,” 

“Did you mean that?” You asked, taking another step closer and Minghao could smell the familiar perfume on you and the scent of your favorite shampoo. “Did you mean it when you said you love me?” You asked again, this time in a whisper. 

It had been 3 years, 970 days to be exact (not that Minghao is counting) since he first fell in love with you. And not once, even in his drunken state, did he let himself text you and confess. Especially not in such a dumb way. He prided himself as someone who was always in control of his emotions, keeping everything hidden to make sure you wouldn’t be uncomfortable. But there he was, sober and doing the stupidest thing a Minghao could do. Not even drunk Soonyoung would do this, he fleetingly thought before he turned his attention back to you. 

“I brought you flowers. They’re ruined. Sorry. I know i shouldn’t be late and forgot but everything has been shit and–”

“I love you, Minghao.” Your words stopped his trainwreck of a thought. His eyes widened as he looked at you. “I thought you hated going with me and doing this… But Jeonghan said you kept telling him about our time and he said you really love it. And I noticed you’ve been kinda withdrawn ever since I saw you at the studio. You do know you are not alone right, Minghao?” You took his hand in you. It was cold but it was okay. Minghao was Minghao and he was anything but cold to you. “ It’s okay to have a difficult time, but don’t forget you have a lot of people who would do anything for you.”

“This seems more like an intervention than a confession.” He blurted out before both of you burst into giggles, the cold rain suddenly didn’t feel so cold anymore now that he had wrapped his arms around you, the bouquet long forgotten on the wet pavement. 

“It’s both.” Was all you said before pressing your lips against him. A gentle and wary kiss, as if you were terrified he’d hate it. He let go of one hand and cupped your cheek, pulling you into a deeper kiss, sighing in relief, his body relaxing under your touch and heated kiss. Murmurs of apologies and I love you’s keep spilling out of his lips as your hand clutch the front of his sweater as if he was your lifeline. 

Maybe the unfamiliar was okay. Maybe he could get used to this.

[it-happened-one-fic]

Play the Fool - Dottore (Part 3)

Author's Notes: I've finally figured out how many fics it's going to take for me to finish this unplanned series. Just like the previous parts, I listened to "Black Sea" by Natasha Blume while writing this. Reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Mer-Dottore/ Merman AU/ gender-neutral reader/ I'm not gonna label this as fluff since that doesn't feel quite right, but know that it's NOT angst, yandere, or anything like that

Word Count: 1468

Trigger Warning: Discussion of past crimes including murder (Dottore), Fatui are generally shady

{Part One} {Part Two} {Part Three: You're Here!} {Part Four} {Part Five}

EDIT: Entire series now available on AO3! (link deleted due to glitches)

My cover job of cleaning Dottore’s tank was slippery work, but I’d managed to get some of the Fatui employees to bring over yet another, curiously identical wheeled tank for me to dump the green gunk that the harbinger had concocted into.

I clambered out of the newly cleaned tank, glancing around and noting that there was no one left in the room save for myself. Which was exactly what I needed, but was also very suspicious.

I couldn’t help but feel that this was all going a little bit too smoothly. But I also didn’t really have a choice but to accept it, at least for now. So I went ahead and flipped a heavy black tarp over the tank’s open lid to help with both the scent and the  generally revolting appearance of the green algae.

If I were lucky or if someone really was behind the scenes, then the rest of the headquarters would be equally barren while I wheeled Dottore out under the guise of the trash that I now pushed in front of me.

I stopped next to Dottore’s tank, tapping it lightly to let him know it was just me before I reached over to shift the tarp. In response a webbed hand appeared on the glass. Dottore himself remained lying sluggishly on the bottom of the tank. The twitching of his blue fins was the only sign of life.

I frowned at the sight of him, pausing in my motions to look worriedly into the tank. He barely moved, but somehow I could feel his gaze shift to me. He made no motions to communicate or rush me. Instead he only pulled his hand back into a more relaxed position and remained laying, the gills in his side fluttering tiredly.

He reminded me of some of the less-than-healthy fish I’d seen in pet stores before when I’d looked into possible ways to care for him when I’d first been given my job. Then, I’d been more fascinated by him, though I’d still maintained a careful distance that made my current actions laughable.

But I’d always been less afraid of him than the scientists and I’d always viewed him as more than just a fish, unlike some of the other Fatui that came and went.

After all, no mere fish could incur quite so much horror in people nor could it kill quite so easily. There was always a cleverness to the merman that was decidedly human in the most malevolent way possible.

I was torn between offering words of reassurance and staying silent. A cold part of me argued that he was a horrible man who’d killed numerous scientists solely in the name of revenge and seemed to take a certain degree of delight in it. While they had betrayed him, two wrongs didn’t make a right, and who knew what all horrors this man had committed in his past scientific tests.

 The other, more sympathetic part of me argued that he was a captive, treated little better than a discarded pet or scientific oddity that was known to be dangerous but also viewed as less than human.

I pursed my lips, my hand remaining on the glass, and the words slipped from my mouth as the more sympathetic side of me won over, “ I know you’re uncomfortable, but hang on just a little bit longer. We’ll be out of here and back at my home soon, and then I’ll at least be able to get the lid off this thing. Maybe then you can recover from whatever that gunk you created has done to you.”

He shifted, almost like he was trying to roll over to better look at me when I spoke. But I didn’t linger to watch his reaction. He needed action more than kind words right now. So instead of continuing to comfort him awkwardly, I stood and hurriedly shifted the tarp over to where he was before moving the algae filled tank off to the side.

Now, at a mere glance, people would hopefully assume it was just his tank and not go near it for fear of his past behavior.

I grasped the handles that stuck off Dottore’s tank and inhaled deeply before taking off down the hallway. Moving at a brisk pace that made it look like I was busy, but not like I was rushing. I couldn’t afford to get stopped by any suspicious Fatui now. 

Something told me pushing a tank holding the former second of the harbingers would be frowned upon and lead to a not so pleasant end for me.

The halls were worryingly but also blessedly empty, making me frown even as I continued on the path of our escape. I was certain now, there was someone else involved in this little escape plan. 

By playing the fool with both Dottore and Pantalone I was no doubt playing exactly into someone’s hands. But I was far enough down this path that I certainly wasn’t going back.

Clever, Dottore had called me. More like stubborn.

And, unsurprisingly at this point, our escape was a success. No one even tried to stop me as I left the Fatui base and turned down the path that went to home. In fact, one of the final guards we’d passed, Makism I believed his name was, had even waved.

I hadn’t paused until I had reached my home which was provided and paid for by Fatui higher-ups and thereby incredibly, but uncomfortably close to their headquarters. Because if nothing else, the Fatui paid their employees well. Even if said employee just took care of the mysterious and revenge-driven merman who served as both a terror, curiosity, and maybe even a warning.

 It was almost distressing to be bringing this man, who could kill me the very second I opened his tank’s lid, into my home. But I did so. Grimly opening my door and pushing the tank into the building and then directly over to the secondary bathroom that I never used.

I yanked the tarp off, letting it flop down to the cold floor in a most condemning fashion as I looked at the locks on the tank’s lid. It was not the first time I’d realized exactly how risky of a plan this entire ordeal was and on what uneven ground me and Dottore were on.

He was far more dangerous than I and, if he so wished, he could easily get rid of me. I was relying on the idea that I was necessary to his survival, but how true that was I didn’t know.

After all, if he did kill me then Fatui would no doubt take one look at the fact that he’d gone missing on the very same day that would coincide with my death and draw one, not entirely wrong conclusion. 

That I’d stolen their merman.

After that it wouldn't be hard to manipulate those scientists, ever eager for some new, grandiose finding, that I’d stolen from him because he knew something. Dottore would ensure that they kept him alive for that much longer by simply killing me. An act that I knew he would have little to no difficulty with.

My hand rested on the first lock as I stared blankly down at the metal. A single shift of my wrist and the lid would open and I would be risking it all by doing exactly what had landed me in this mess in the first place.

But, despite all the risks, the locks clicked open and I pushed the lid off, letting it fall to the floor with thud as I looked down into the water.

Dottore’s tail slid along the bottom of the tank from where he looked up at me like he was ready to spring out at any moment. He still looked weak, but I had no doubt that he could do far more damage than he let on.

And that was exactly why I was surprised when he uncurled and stretched his way up to the top of the tank.

I stepped backwards, my eyes never leaving him as he easily cut through the water’s surface, his fins wrapping around him and before fanning back out as his long, webbed fingers curled over the glass edges of the tank.

“Clever and efficient,” The words slipped from his lips and I found myself going still. I wasn’t, as of yet, used to him talking yet and his sonorous voice still caught me off-guard. Calling to mind old folk stories of merpeople using only their voices to tempt their prey closer and thereby foolishly condemn themselves to a watery death.

“It seems I was right to choose you,” A smile spread across his face and I felt myself, foolishly and despite everything, relax.

[ye-olde-sodor]

Ok so I just found something weird about Ryan and Thomas' classes…

I was looking into the LB&SCR E2s and GNR N2s because I wanted to write some fanfiction with Thomas and Ryan. As I was reading some Wikipedia articles, something caught my eye, and that was the difference in Traction Effort.

In simplest terms, Traction Effort is basically the amount of pushing and shoving forces that an engine has. The higher the number, the more the engine can pull and push. It’s measured in both Kilo-Newtons (kN) and in Pounds Force (Ibf). 1 kN is equivalent to 22.8 Ibf. There is a way to calculate an engine’s Traction Effort but the formula is super complex even in its simplified form and I suck at math. If anyone wants to double check this, be my guest.

So, according to Wikipedia and its subsequent sources, Ryan’s traction effort is 19,945 lbf (88.72 kN). Thomas, meanwhile, has 21,397 lbf (94.78 kN).

If this is accurate to both the E2s and the N2s, then that means that Thomas had nothing to worry about. Thomas is, at least from a traction effort standpoint, the better engine. Yes, there are other factors when determining which engine is better, but Thomas beats Ryan in one of the most important factors, that being how much he can pull and push.

“So Thomas was jealous for no reason? We already knew that, so what’s the point?" Well dear reader, you’d be half right. See, here’s where things get interesting.

I’m sure we all know that the E2s sucked at their job. They were too big to work on the lines they were meant for and had a plethora of other issues. Their small bunkers made them unfit for long distances, and the Second Series (the ones with the extended side tanks that were supposed to replace the first) had an inadequate water supply. Due to these issues, they didn’t last long and they were all withdrawn and scrapped between 1961 and 1963.

What I bet you’d probably figured out by now is that Ryan’s class faired far better than Thomas’ class. While most were withdrawn much sooner than Thomas’ (from 1955 and 1962), they were frequently used and considered reliable. Most of Ryan’s siblings worked at Kings Cross and Moorgate as suburban passenger services, meanwhile the E2s were kept mostly at docks and yards at London Bridge Stations and Victoria and hardly did anything but shunt. On top of all of this, Ryan's class had a much better fuel and water capacity.

Now take all of this info and place it in context of SLOTLT.

Imagine a SLOTLT movie that shows us that Thomas is insecure about his faults despite his numerous rebuilds. Then in comes this fancy new GNR engine that, while slightly weaker than Thomas, can travel farther thus can deliver more trains across Sodor. Now have that same engine show off this ability on Thomas' own branchline. On top of all of that, have everyone brag and comment on how better Ryan is as a passenger train than Thomas. Cut back to Thomas at the construction site hearing about this, and becoming furious (but moreso scared) about Ryan and becomes convinced he's being replaced.

Now imagine Ryan being the one to pull the shipwreck instead of Donald and Douglas. Now Thomas is convinced he's being replaced and either sent away to another railway or sold for scrap.

It's a small fix but it makes such a difference. It helps explain why Thomas becomes so reckless and irritable in the movie and when Sailor John rolls in with Skiff, he feels more willing to help him since "Hey, he bought Skiff, maybe he can buy me if I prove myself to him!"

There are so many other stories we can write using all of this, and you all know damn well I'm gonna abuse the hell out of this lol.