#shoot me a dm if you’re wanting to discuss

[dreamingawaits]

Criminal Minds Story?

I have been tempted to write a Criminal Minds based book but I have zero idea what to make of it. I’m open to work with a team of people we can meet via Zoom call or we can exchange numbers in private and talk that way I suppose.

[i-may-be-an-emu]

SFTH FAQ and Info Masterpost

This is kinda long so

sfth info:

General info

Sam and Tom’s last names being different sometimes

Shark Friend, Mr Wompa and Squidboi terms origins

the boys degrees

information about what you get with patreon

Just a note that many sfth videos are subtitled (a decent amount in other languages too!!!) and the subtitlers are amazing!!!! They are credited in the video descriptions.

If you see any fake sfth accounts on any platforms try to report them!!! Unfortunately there’s a multitude of them on tiktok >:( and tiktok doesn’t let people report them (there’s an issue for some when you try to) Try to not suppourt or watch these stolen videos! Sfth are verified now!!! (If that’s easier for people to tell which is the real them :))

Obviously there’s no rules on tumblr but as a general courtesy to the guys, consider keeping in mind:

Not sharing links to patreon content if you’re a patreon (which is probably actually a patreon rule but I’m just assuming that) and keeping clips of patreon things under 2 minutes. Screenshots and discussions are fine!! (As some people have been wondering) though maybe consider tagging the original post with a patreon tag (like #sfthpatreon) so people who aren’t patreons and don’t want to see patreon stuff can filter it out.

Not sharing screenshots/links/clips/ect of the guys when they were younger unless it’s still on their actual sfth account or their own personal accounts. They’ve stated before that they don’t really want these shared and have taken some older videos down.

[I’m only saying this so that people are aware and keep it in mind and be informed!!! Not telling people what they can and can’t do!]

links to stuff:

Fanfiction masterlist (list is mine, fics are of many different authors all credited through the ao3 links) and also an ao3 page with mostly all sfth fics by @bbatcat-09

ao3 guide a relationships ao3 tagging guide and a revised ao3 tagging guide (specific for the sfth fandom) (all by the incredible @youling-the-ghost)

List of games that sfth have posted (by @letsbesharkfriends)

sfth fan wiki (by @youling-the-ghost, I have also contributed a little but it’s mostly him :))

tv tropes sfth page (by @friendofthesharks)

sfth map (by @goingroundincircles-ontrack)

kiss count, not up to date (mine, diagram by @leftenmost-window)

“who said it” and “which member are you” really fun sfth quizzes! (by @toddandersonwithtrustissues)

You can find amazing sfth gifs by @hellsquills (to find these search “shoot from the gif” within her blog)

search “#sfth asks” on my blog to find any asks about or relating to sfth- it’s not just questions, but there is a great deal of questions that you might find yours answered by :) I’m always happy to get asks and to help out with any questions!!! I’ve also started tagging “#sfth faq’s” recently

You should check out all the amazing fanart too under #sfth fanart!!! (also sneaky self promotion that I make fanart sometimes lol #emu draws is my art tag :))

feel free to @, dm me or send asks anytime if you have any sfth related questions or wanna obsess over it with me :)

Fandom tags:

(from memory and just the common ones I see)

(there’s no rules of course, just a little list so that people can search for and filter things easily :))

main tags:

#shoot from the hip #sfth #shootimpro #sfthposting #sfth screenshots

#sam russell #sfth sam #alexander jeremy #sfth aj #luke manning #sfth luke #tom mayo #sfth tom #sfth sam

fanwork tags:

#sfth fanart #sfth fanfic #sfth fanfiction #sfth edits #sfth headcanons

patreon tags:

#sfthpatreon #sfth patreon things #sfth patreon #the bitter sweethearts #sfth dnd #sfth livestreams #sfth livestreams #escape from the vault

if you want to join the sfth fan discord dm me and I can send you the link! (Just a note that it is a 14+ server.) Everyone is lovely and there’s no pressure to interact- but if you do the community is so welcoming!!!

sfth linktree (stuff about their upcoming shows and links to their things. you can also sign up for patreon here)

sfth website

sfth ko-fi

AJ ko-fi (for his film making)

Tom’s graphic novel @futurethecomic (insta)

Sam wrote an audiobook “Evergreen” and you can find it on Spotify

if you think of anything that should go on this post let me know! :)

[roo-bastmoon]

IMPORTANT INFO: issues around Jimin’s album

I have an ARMY friend (who shall remain safely anonymous) who works in film production for the music and entertainment industry here in the US. They offered me some valuable insights today into production limitations and possible issues related to Jimin’s solo album.

Below the cut is a transcript of their messages to me. I share this in the hopes it better informs our discussions around fair treatment of BTS members’ releases. It is by no means a definitive account of Jimin’s situation—simply an insider’s ideas on what likely happened around a few things.

I understand there are very big feelings about this topic, especially with the apparent differences around JK’s single, and I appreciate everyone’s viewpoints. However, if you choose to interact with this post, you will be respectful to others (including members) or you will be blocked. You are always welcome to DM me privately if you need to vent—we are all human and we all need a bit of grace, so you’ll always have that with me.

Sending you guys so much love, Roo

Anonymous Insider

Some “light reading” while you’re resting up and recovering, lol. This is all just based on what I’ve been watching and seen. Of course, I don’t have access to their production budget sheet and Korea works very differently than the US when it comes to production, but this what I’ve been seeing when it comes to their videos and particularly the promotions for FACE.

(I’m sending in sections, lol)

Alrighty - I’m still like deep in edit-land (still am two days later 😭) but I started typing this on the train between meetings, ha ha. (And am still on the train doing this, lol.) Also this rambles a bit I’m sorry! So the first thing I did was go back to the interview where Jimin talked about the music videos — it was a Japanese TV show and he’s talking with a host in Korean.

He’s talking about “wanting to do it all,” laughs and says, “I wanted all the music videos” and that “they” (the company assuming) said “무리다” which has its roots in the word 무리 which means a herd, a party, a group — basically “it’s too much,” “it’s unreasonable,” and “it’s impossible” are decent translations as it refers to something or an idea being “too much” — then the host and Jimin burst out laughing and the host goes “서리와 무리다” which I read as “sorry (in konglish) but we can’t” and they continue to laugh. So based on that —it sounds very understandable.

We can imagine Jimin sitting down with his team and planning out SMFP2 and LC videos, with the 30 dancers and all the party scene extras, and then Jimin saying he wants to do the music shows with 6 different sets in rented locations so they could have total control. And if Jimin in that process went “what if we made official music videos for all of them?” the team would understandably go “that’s just not reasonable!” 1) because it would give Jimin a budget no other member had gotten and 2) there aren’t that many production houses in Korea. It’s a very small scene — it may just logistically not been possible. There aren’t enough DPs and crew and editors. Sometimes, as a producer, you have to tell your creative talent “I’m sorry, but no.” — I say it every week!

So what about the music videos? Well, here’s what I know from meticulously watching all the behind the scenes for BTS videos over the years. They work with a small team. They likely own a good deal of the gear — they shoot mainly on RED cameras and heavy expensive Cooke lenses (which you can’t get this stuff easily in Korea. I lost a lens cap for a Canon CINÉ Lens in Seoul and it was like this whole big deal because getting gear there is an import challenge but anyways) they use MOVI and Ronin gimbal stabilizers and Jimmy Rigs a lot.

Recently they’ve been using technocranes but I wonder how many technocranes there are in Seoul. As I said, they likely own a lot of this gear which can help with costs. But we’ve also been told — and I’ve heard through my industry friends — that Hybe PAYS. And in Korea there’s no unions in the entertainment world, and often the rates are shit (hence Netflix investing so much there - blerg) their standard work week is also already 12 hours longer than the US. It’s a whole thing. and they spend so much money on sets. It’s incredible.

They rent these huge spaces outside Seoul and BUILD — I mean the build out for SMFP2 was astounding. They easily dropped 1million on that video. The rigging, the build-out, the custom set and the custom camera rigs to achieve the 360 shots - the drone shots. They’re astounding videos. No US label is spending that money on videos these day. Absolutely none of them are — my friend recently produced a video for John Legend. They were trying to pull the whole thing off for $100K which is ridiculous. It’s really almost impossible.  

But on the Big videos they spend a lot of money, but they also produce a lot of other stuff too (and these are often looked at as Performance Videos vs all-caps MUSIC VIDEOS) -— like RM’s video shoot at DIA Beacon… that was a much smaller, fairly single camera shoot — all shot on drones or a MOVI handheld rig. No set, they also didn’t like pay for the set because DIA: Beacon is an art museum — and similar a little bit to Letter for Jimin, which was much smaller set and easy in-house gear.

(And it was also released on Bangtan TV channel vs Hybe Labels Channel, which is a good indicator of how they categorize these shoots.) But the big videos, they go for broke. I mean they spend so much money and again they may own a lot of the equipment but there’s still so much people-power and labor involved. Take the dancers’ rehearsals. You have to pay people for all that — you have to pay them for the weeks of rehearsal, you have to pay them to be in a video. It is so expensive — like, I would not be able to budget that video for under 1 million, that’s how much it costs.  

So then Jimin wanted to do music shows —- and so because he’s Jimin and it’s BTS, Hybe rented larger venues and locations for all of the shoots. None of them use the actual Broadcast spaces or were provided by the broadcast studios. The smaller companies do though — remember when BTS first started out they went to SBS to film on the day? — but they don’t do that anymore. They rent huge facilities so that they could be a mini concerts for ARMYs to visit with Jimin and see him.

They also have to do this kind of outside of the city and they built huge sets because they’re going to want to show off if they’re gonna be on TV but that is so expensive. (I don’t think you were an ARMY then, but when ON was released, at the time it was the “biggest broadcast performance ever” and they keep upping that ante for sure!) It’s possible the broadcast companies spend some money but what BTS is doing is so outside the usual budget and given the tension with the broadcasters and HYBE — they (Hybe) wants control of their products, and so I think they pay for that control.

I can’t imagine they got out of any of those days for under $500K; I mean, there were two different sets, all the crew; they’re paying for all of it. We add it up and they probably spent close to $3-5 million between Jimin’s music videos and his music show performances, and I would be understandably like: “That’s it!” Like, that’s the budget for an EP, you know.

I don’t think Jimin could have it all because that wasn’t the case for the other members. RM got to lead videos and J Hope had pyrotechnics, which definitely costs money and safety and insurance. You know he had visual effects his first video (a lotta visual effects) and again a lot of challenging technocrane work, but I haven’t really seen them build something on the scale of what they built for SMFP2 in a very long time (or ever?).

We heard from the Art Dept that Jimin did not want to shoot on blue screen, so they built the set for him. This cannot be the same label that is shafting him — that allows him to spend that amount of money just because the artist said “I want to shoot in a real space!” because I’m gonna be completely honest— he could’ve done that on a blue screen — I’m glad they built a real world because BTS almost always shoots on Blue/Green Screen. They build him a huge set like that. It’s absolutely incredible.

I was also reminded this morning that people are talking about radio for Like Crazy and not supporting the song — and I just keep thinking that they did exact rollout for Butter, Dynamite, and Permission to Dance. They released Like Crazy. It had both a Korean version and English version. (Obviously that wasn’t the case for the English BTS songs.) They released two additional remixes. Then they kept releasing, like, alternate cover versions — alternate covers of the main remix, alternate cover the other remix. They were trying to maximize the direct-to-consumer store and exact same way they had tried to maximize it with Dynamite and Butter and Permission to Dance.

The way you were buying Like Crazy was the same process I took on Dynamite. They did the exact same playbook. So the fact that they were unable to get the kind of radio play they wanted or maybe they weren’t prioritizing radio because they knew that they were gonna have a better chance at direct to consumer sales... Maybe they didn’t want to fight radio. Maybe Geffen was like “We don’t have the right ‘Ins’ yet!” — I’m not sure, but the fact that they got completely screwed over by Billboard doesn’t mean that they weren’t actually rolling it out in that way, because as soon as they started doing the whole alternate cover thing, I was like: “Well, they clearly want us to try to go for number one!” You know, “They clearly think that they are going to be able to get number one on the hot 100 and we’re gonna use these sales to do that!” And clearly that’s all changed now.

They keep changing the rules on us, so — with JK, they’re obviously trying to, you know, use whatever tools they have available to them at this point.

Finally, when it comes to restocking the digital single CD. There are still albums available in the store. So why would they manufacture and ship more (likely thrown away) plastic that’s just for one song, when those CD singles only serve to raise sales for the charts? All of the other member’s CD singles are out of stock except The Astronaut, which they treated more like a proper album a bit (kinda like the Butter CD releases). Because they still have both versions of his full albums in stock, so if I were Hybe, I’d be like “No,you need to buy the album, we still have albums, we’re not going to sell you a single song when you can buy the album!” That makes more sense to me. The albums cost more.

TL:DR, haha — so I feel like this narrative around Jimin’s release has been ramped up because, from my professional opinion, he’s had the most expensive release so far (by far) and if we want to compare him to, say, Beyoncé — well she owns her own production company (Parkwood Entertainment), so she can funnel her own money into a Visual Album, I don’t know if Jimin has considered that at this point in his career, but in the future, he might!

((Not including costs for Suga’s tour because that’s a whole other thing, and the tour probably made money I would expect to balance out the cost of the tour itself))

Anonymous Insider

This isn’t to say that the other things, the part where he didn’t get the cake celebration, or the posts, the issues with the linking and this general feeling that Jimin was short-changed in these things isn’t valid and understandable. I think Hybe relied too much on D2C sales and I don’t think they leveraged their might as much as could have for JM. They could have risked more for him.

{This is an end of Anonymous Insider’s messages to me. They noted that they are an intermediate non-native Korean speaker so please excuse any translation errors. They translated things themselves using Naver tools that aligned with the video subtitles.}

So, listen, I still don’t think Like Crazy was sent/promoted to radio (which was a mistake and still is a mistake) and I am furious at the shady articles and lack of celebration for Jimin…

But after reading the way the members approach their work in the Beyond the Story book and now hearing from someone who produces these works for a living, I have to wonder if the company was doing everything they knew how to do for Jimin, but the second it didn’t work out because of the western music industry culling streams and sales, they pulled back all their resources and pivoted for Yoongi and JK. (I also wonder if leadership shut up about it all due to liability issues, or not to cause bad blood with the music industry for future releases.)

Again, I’ll never forgive the lack of celebration and the split streams (not without a great explanation), but at least now I think there’s a good chance no one was actively trying to sabotage Jimin on purpose. They seemed to have wanted that #1 and then it all went to shit because Billboard and radio want to get paid. Maybe leadership decided not to put any more resources into Face but instead pivot for all the future music coming out (including PJM2.)

Perhaps I'm a cockeyed optimist. I’m just hoping like hell they never engage in payola. I want all our boys to win, but I want us to win fairly. And even if everyone cannot have the same investment every time on every project, I hope when they come back together in 2025 that everyone feels good about their solo works and each other. This is my prayer. Love, Roo

[legolambi]

hello here’s new commissions! keeping it nice and simple

rules:

▪️ contact me via dm or email legolambi@gmail.com

▪️ please provide references. examples: sketch/drawing, picrew, images/photos of elements of the design so i can put them together into one character

▪️ please provide description of a pose/situation you’d like your character to be in. the more detailed, the better!

▪️ second character is +75% of the base price. maximum number of characters for sketches is 3 and 2 for clean portraits

▪️ payment is upfront via paypal

▪️ i will draw armor but it will be simple/simplified. if you want it extra detailed we can discuss a higher price!

▪️nudity is ok but no explicit nfsw, if you’re unsure just ask!

▪️ i will draw anthro characters but keep in mind that the design will be altered to fit my style. for example, if your character has a wolf head, it will be more realistic. for a better idea, check out my inktober drawings

▪️ if you want me to draw anything else, feel free to shoot me a message and we can discuss the options! fyi painted illustrations will cost $100 at least

opening 5 SLOTS for now!!

for more examples check my art tag

ko-fi | etsy

[terraae]

hey all!

I realize I can just write fanfic, but these characters are enigmatic to me at this stage so! interview with the vampire (amc+) roleplay call ✨

The brain rot is real and I want to roleplay these characters. You too? Awesome! I want to try my hand at playing Louis because the facets of his character are so new and intriguing to me. I’m a POC, but I’m not American, so the nuances which make him him are something I’m still learning. I’d like to play against anyone: Lestat, Claudia, Armand, Daniel, Real Rashid (seriously anyone). As for ships: I’m a multi shipper with all the joys that come with it. I’m open to anyone. Loustat/Loumand/Loumandstat(??) are a good place to start!

I’ve seen the show, and bits of the movie, but I haven’t read the books. Planning to read at some point!

I match the length of my partner, but it does tend to depend on the context. I’m not a fan of characters having more than one conversation in the same reply. Heated arguments will be shorter in length, and so on. I don’t mind text rp either as a warm up or when we need to take a break from a heavy scene.

I only ask that you have an idea when approaching me! I’m currently plotting for at least 2 things that aren’t iwtv related, so I don’t have anything in mind. But I do love to discuss and contribute to plot! It can be a two way discussion for sure. A starter would be amazing though.

About me: I have about 10 years’ worth of writing experience. I also have no triggers, and am willing to try anything if we discuss it and it’s in character. I also am chill with other ships even if I don’t vibe with them personally, so talk to me about them anyway! I’m 24 and will only roleplay with you if you’re 18+. Spelling mistakes are fine, but consistent grammatical errors and OOC behavior during RP make me lose steam, so if I stop responding, I’m really sorry.

Shoot me a DM or ask for my discord and let’s gooo!

[did-i-do-this-write]

Village Map

In my original post I leaned heavy into the metaphor and I saw more than one person in the tags mention that they didn't understand how to participate. So here is a plain language guide in how to navigate and use the different locations for the event!

The Coffee Shop

If you're in the coffee shop, it just means you're looking to strike up a conversation! Make a post to announce what kind of interaction you're looking for! Could be asks, DMs, specific topics or open discussions through reblogs. You can pose a question or just welcome people to start conversations with you. Maybe you're looking to join a discord or make new friends. Just let us know!

The Library

If you're here, you're looking for information and inspiration. Post about what books you're reading or what inspires you. If you need advice or help with research, put out a call to your fellow writers. If you don't need help, just announce what you're working on and give us updates!

The Gym

If you're here, it means you're really working hard on your WIP. Maybe you're doing a run of 15 minute sprints, or taking on a huge word count like writing 1k+ in one sitting. Make a post about what challenge you're taking on and keep us updated so we can cheer you on and join you in the grind!

The Bakery

If you're here, it means you're working on your WIP more casually. You're taking your time, sticking with a regular routine, or writing short ficlets and drabbles. Post about your regular updates and progress, and share snippets and teasers as you see fit!

The Arcade

If you're here, you're just looking to play writeblr games. Make a post announcing you're ready to play and choose your game! You can start your own tags, reblog a bunch of ask games, answer old tags you haven't had a chance to look at, whatever games you want! Don't forget to reply and send something back to anyone who plays with you!

The Spa

If you're here, you're taking a break from writing for a bit. Make a post sharing as much detail as you want, update us on what self care activities you're doing and/or usually do. If you're burnt out, feel free to ask for advice on how to handle it!

The Archive

If you're here, you're looking through your own ideas for inspiration. You're reviewing outlines, re-reading old drafts, looking through old scraps of handwritten notes that aren't even accurate anymore. Post about what you're looking through and how it's helping (or not helping lol).

The Garden

If you're here, you're thinking about your WIP without working on the draft. You’re daydreaming and plotting, creating aesthetics and playlists, keeping your WIP in your mind without writing. Post about your ideas and share your aesthetics, playlists, and extras!

The Lab

If you're here, you're working more on characters and worldbuilding, not so much plot. You're making character sheets and maps and building governments and backstories. Post about your characters and world, share your maps and designs, and help us get to know them!

Things to Remember

If you're comfortable with it, you can always tag me in posts for the village! I'll keep everything on my blog for others to see.

Your post doesn't have to be fancy or detailed! It can be as simple as announcing which area you're in and how well (or not well) it's going.

You can be in multiple places at once or throughout the day! The village is just a fun visual and metaphor, but it doesn't have to limit you. You might drift from the Archive (reviewing old stuff) to the Bakery (drafting new stuff) to the Garden (daydreaming for next time) in under an hour! Keep us updated on your journey!

If you guys have any questions, just reach out! If my ask box is open, shoot me an ask. If it's closed, feel free to reblog or reply to this post or shoot me a DM! I'm always taking recommendations for locations and ways to make the village better!

The main purpose of the event is just to build and circulate the writeblr community. However you want to share your ideas and engage with others is all part of the village!

Happy writing, everyone!

[give-grian-rights]

Hermitcraft Fic Rec!

HELLO. i have hundreds, HUNDREDS of hermitcraft fanfiction bookmarked and living in my brain without rent. Breaking this up into categories for some of my PERSONAL favorite fics in the fandom- including categories for shipping, crossover, and worldbuilding.

Some of these fics are from 2019 but generally speaking you don't need knowledge of past seasons you should be able to pick up on just about all of them. a lot of these are mostly included BECAUSE they're older and therefore, harder to accidentally stumble upon. put in no particular order.

If your fic is on here and you'd like it removed, send an Ask with the fic, a dm, etc

World Building

The Parting Glass / To Pass The Jungle You Have To Go All The Way Around - Sekrap.

Doc has been trying to forget. He has done everything everyone told him he should do to make the memories go away. And still the jungle calls for him. / He was a monster. Then, a man. Now, a machine. Doc, once a normal Creeper, was not meant to live. Let alone become a Player. He learned to speak, he learned to fight, he learned to build. Some things stayed the same. aka- the Domestic Creeper au.

____

Carpet Trick - CrazyCatMeow

You all know the double carpet trick right? What happens when that joint with a tired mad scientist meet.

Mob hybrids can't see carpets <3 extra silly and very lighthearted

____

Window Pane - blueticked

Tango and Impulse discuss the brand new presence of Helsknight.

It's not a coincidence that all the evil personas have red eyes.

Tango is a Hels, struggling with self-acceptance and his place in Hermitcraft, which was never meant to be for him. in my head ALL THE TIME

____

"I know" - KindaJustHere

Bdubs was used to death. He was used to being killed by his fellow hermits. He was very used to being killed by Grian. Maybe a little too much.

(This is based off Grian’s episode 61 of hermitcraft season 7 where Bdubs says “I know” and shoots himself) BDUBS SELF ESTEEM ANGST!! Griangst !!!! Emotionally fucked up Grian from YHS !!

____

Hiss and Scratch - TheNerdyTurtle96

Doc is a mad scientist who isn't afraid of anything. Actually, that's not true. His only weakness is cats.

exactly like it said it is . SO GOOD AND CUTE

____

For the Record - Anonymous

Tango shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I did. Xisuma’s teaching Impulse some Galactic Standard so he can cheat at enchanting or something. Apparently Xelqua’s, like, some sort of god in Xisuma’s culture? It was kind of unclear, I wasn’t paying attention when Impulse told me.”

“Huh,” Grian said vacantly. “How about that.”

oops! Grian is Xisuma's god. amazing

____ GrianMC - SixteenthDays

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Techno says frankly.

“You know,” Grian says again. “Your- Watchers.”

Techno squints for a moment before understanding visibly dawns behind his eyes. “Ohhh, you mean Chat?”

(On watchers, and Watchers.)

This IS technically a crossover but its more worldbuilding than anything else. its literally so funny. i love it

Crossover

These Days I Don't Feel Like Myself At All / Mercury (No One Can Unring This Bell) (Series Ongoing) - RoguishOne (DarkWolfMoon)

TommyInnit had died. Again. To Dream. Again. And it sucked exactly as much as he thought it would because he'd wanted to move on and have a chance to actually live this time. Seems he won't be getting that.

Then he gets pulled out of Limbo, but he doesn't wake up back in the cell with Dream or next to his bed on the server. He doesn't wake up on the Dream SMP at all.

Little does he know that this is the least of his worries.

i want to scream and cry and hypervenilate thinking about this fic series. literally cannot recommend it enough. your life will be ROCKED. THE WRITING IS SOOOOO OGOOOD . i just want to shake. i cannot put into words what this fic makes me feel.

____

Shells in the Foam (a Hermit!Tommy fanfic) - Cedarwhisp21

When Dream attacks Tommy in Logestshire, Tommy runs. Badly injured, he somehow manages to slip between worlds and wakes up in a badlands biome, on a server far from home, with no other players in sight.

The Hermits are surprised when a new player logs in, and confused when no-one's at spawn. Five days later, after waiting for the new player to introduce themselves, Xisuma uses his admin abilities to access their coordinates. He takes Impulse with him to welcome the new player to Hermitcraft, but instead of the beginnings of a base, they find something a lot more concerning.

NEEDS NO INTRODUCTION. the NUMBER ONE kudo-ed hermit fic . by my beloved. and using the one of the beloved au by pertrichormeraki . its so good and im sooo glad i was here for the ride of seeing it unfold <3

____

let me give you a piece of my mind - Interjection

Dream and Grian practice building for MCC, and hold a conversation in the process.

Or,

Grian gives an outside perspective on Dream’s actions. Dream is having none of it.

Grian is a fucked up lil guy <3 Dream is a piece of shit

____

He would not die - Nicoforlife

If phil could save only one person from this place, that would be enough.

Tldr I made phil a watcher :)

Watcher Phil and Grian !! ! !!

____

Scared as hell - Nhi_theuserof_this

Grian was one of the closest people to Fundy at this point. He wants to be honest, really, but with the rest of his family history being a total train wreck, he spends an awkwardly long time dancing around what he wants to say.

Tldr; Grian is Fundy’s uncle, Fundy comes out to him

OK SO THIS ONE. WAS BASED OFF ONE OF MY AUS but i had to include it. ok .short and sweet

It was just a game - QuasarsFaults (UNFINISHED)

Taurtis Has been on the server awhile now, he's made new friends, a really tasty toritos shop, a new job working with Concorp, and he's even made this really cool pirate rollercoaster. So why did his and Scar's idea go so wrong?

OK. so i honest to god cannot remember if this is my au or if i just partook in it. i think its my au. who knows. either way seeing this again makes me want to work on my own Taurtis-Became-a-Hermit-Instead-of-Grian fic

Shipping

heartfelt confession - mysteryguest

it shouldn't come as a surprise to iskall, he thinks, when he finally settles on a term that feels just right. and yet, it is. and it's dreadful, feeling that urge, that need to tell someone, without knowing if they would accept you or not.

at least he knows the person he can trust the most with this info is his boyfriend, mumbo.

non-binary and bigender Mumskull !!! coming out. finding identity. finding pronouns.

____

I Hate You (I Promise I Don't) - BewitchingNotes

If someone asked Grian why he was relentlessly pranking Etho now that he was finally back in Hermitland, he'd say it was just for pure fun.

To Etho, it meant Grian was mad at him.

To everyone else, Grian had a huge crush on the redstone user and obviously didn't know how to communicate it.

OR: Grian just wants Etho's attention, Etho misreads this as Grian being mad at him, Grian thinks Etho hates him because of his pranks and everyone else just wants these boys to communicate properly already. Grian's love language is pranks...i love it

____ A Study Of Love in the Universe Itself - 2point5

Love had a strange meaning on Hermitcraft, where everyone loved each other. 

OR

Joe looks into the different ways he loves some of his fellow members, and what that means for him as a human.

ITS A SERIES TOO AND ITS SOOOO GOOD i love it . Joe x Cleo x Bdubs x Etho . what more could you want. and their sexualities and how they perceive love is . OAUGHHGHGGHHGHGHBHGHFHHVIJXFSHDF IUSDHIUSAHDUIA

[husk-not-whiskers]

Day 7…. Closing up shop.

The party is over. Only few remain. The show has come to close. All things come to an end.

Husk looks across the hotel, it’s late. He’ll be going to sleep soon. But one more round of drinks is always fun.

♥️♠️♦️♣️ 🂱 ╰ ���┉─¡! • !¡─┉─ ╯ 🂱 ♣️♦️♠️♥️

Wow. First of all. Thank you. Thank you all so much. I love and appreciate every single one of you. I’m tearing up even writing this. Well… typing… I fucking love you all so much. I may not know you. You may only be an anon I’ve talked to once. But I think about you. I think about you all so much. I’m going to miss you. I REALLY REALLY am

None of you understand just how much this means to me. That’s why I need to take a break. I love you. I really really really do. I want you to understand I’m not leaving because I hate you, it’s the opposite. I love you all too much. I need to focus on my health and life. I’ve got some serious stuff coming up and I need to focus on it. I plan on coming back in April. But I don’t know. Life really loves to fuck me over. You can still send asks, I’ll read them. I’ll love and cherish them. I may even answer a few of them before April, but I won’t be here like I am now. I’m going to sign out of this blog so I can’t get to it. Well atleast make it a bit more difficult. I won’t really be online all that much. But if you need me, shoot me a dm on main. A month doesn’t seem that long… but on the internet, a lot sure can happen.

“Let's say goodbye with a smile, dear

Just for a while dear we must part

Don't let this parting upset you

I'll not forget you, sweetheart”

Sappy thank you’s under cut

Let’s start with the guy who started it all. @.heybabeshru the one who got me to even make this blog in the first place. Who runs the @bad-boy-lover nifty blog! None of this would’ve happened without you. Without your kind words and encouragement I wouldn’t have made all these wonderful new friends. I’m truly grateful I got to cross paths with you.

And Ivory. Who runs the @alastor-radiodemon blog. There’s so much to say! I mean you and Rat were the first to interact with me. Make me feel welcome and a part of this whole thing. The way you write Alastor is so raw and real in this way I just can’t describe. You genuinely feel like the characters you write. I’m so glad I met you. I’m so glad I get to call you my friend.

@hazbinhoteloc-ninlil you are one of the bravest and kindest people I know. Without you, I doubt I would’ve been able to even call ivory my friend. Your mind is delightfully intriguing. The plots and stories you are able to come up with are truly magical.

To everyone in the discord, thank you.

@angeldust-real wow! Where to start? I just love your portrayal of angel so much. I’m at a loss for words. Seeing you in my notifications always puts a smile on my face

@dohdahradioanon man I mean, fuck I’m hooked on whatever you’ve got going on. Your character is so mysterious. Gyah I just love it so much

@mielles-lounge this whole event wouldn’tve happened with out you. I don’t know you all that well. But it’s been a pleasure

@ifyouthinkyouregettingaway I haven’t known you very long, but fuck. I love your Vox so much. And I’d love to continue role playing with you when I come back.

@redislonely I mean, what is there to say. I don’t know you all too well, but you’re certainly someone I can’t wait to get to know better. 

And to all of you. I love you dearly. If you ever need me, DMs are open. And I’d love to discuss plots for when I come back. This is also an excuse to tell you all how much I love you

[a-ackermann]

RP RULES

This will only be a brief synopsis of my rules and standards, after reading below if interested please dm me, we can discuss rules and boundaries more in depth prior to beginning an rp. As of now all rps I’m opening are AoT exclusive.

- As a literate writer, varying on how detailed or lengthy of a writer you are will of course effect my responses, however please consider that me being a literate writer means the majority of my responses will be longer, varying 2-10 paragraphs, overall I max out at 3k word replies (IF that is what we’re going for). So long as there’s something for me to actually form a real response to I’ll gladly keep a rp alive.

- I will portray most canon characters and am very open to either SFW or NSFW plots, though when it comes to my own prompts my rps tend to turn NSFW eventually. (though I’m very strict about enforcing slow-burn say it were a build up to romance.) I tend to prefer playing as my OC with canon characters, obviously I ship my OC with Levi but this doesn’t mean I exclusively rp with Levi mains/portrayers. I’m open to about anything so long as you reach out with a suggestion. If you wish to have no NSFW content whatsoever, or at the least no sexual content please let me know!!!! I have no issues with these accommodations just because I’m a freaky little goose in the pond.

- I do not write homosexual pairings, both mxm and fxf. I’m a straight woman, who used to identify as a trans gay man when I used to write for gay pairings exclusively, if I were to do that now I’d feel as if I’m fetishizing. So respectfully, please don’t come to me asking for this because I have no exceptions.

- Regarding sexual content, I will not engage in any beastiality, scat/piss fetishes, DDLG/MDLG/age-play, etc, basically if it could get you in legal trouble or it’s just generally fucking disgusting don’t even bother suggesting it. Reiterating here, I enjoy getting freaky in writing now and then, but I won’t ever make it the exclusive theme of the rp.

- Please understand I love doing this in my free time,

FREE TIME!!!

Meaning, no, I am not ignoring you. I’m an outspoken and confrontational person by nature, if there is an issue I will openly address it to your face before ending a role play, guaranteed. Therefore, give me time if I haven’t updated you whatsoever, as in not even to say that I’m answering you soon, because I’m either at work or at home rotting after work.

- If you’re looking for me to play a specific character for you in one rp and you’re willing to portray for me in another at the same time lmk!! I know it can be exhausting writing as a character for someone else’s appeal when you also have an idea to execute.

- If you dislike the way I write for a character, please let me know so that we can discuss it and potentially work out changing things about my portrayal to better suit your expectations. I’m very open to criticism so long as it comes from good intentions.

- If you want to restart an rp by all means please speak up!! It’s very difficult to rouse or annoy me over an rp, I’d rather know you’re unsatisfied than continue leading an rp knowing you’re struggling to come up with a response.

- ISO long-term rp partners atm, I’m very interested in meeting other compatible writers.

- I’m not hellbent on any particular platform, I prefer Discord, otherwise if there’s an app you’d prefer to talk on just let me know.

- Finally, I can be picky with what rps that I open and those I engage with, though this doesn’t mean I’ll shoot you down immediately if I don’t like your suggestion, I’ll most likely stay and work with you til we’re both happy with a plot unless what you’re looking for is something I’m entirely disinterested in.

Please do not be afraid to reach out to me!! Even if we end up not starting an rp together I can assure you I will get back to you and I wont be upset if you have questions either 💙💙💙💙💙

P.S. Just to avoid further confusion, I’m continuing to go under my OC name on this account 💙

[idolatrybarbie]

the world tipped on its side

chapter three - bad miracle

series masterlist | read on ao3

pairing: francisco "frankie" morales x f!reader

word count: 6.4k

rating & summary: mature | you get a phone call. frankie leads you to pensacola beach, florida.

warnings: ANGST, discussions of health and disability, discussions of surgery, details of physical injury, (the briefest) mentions of suicidal ideation, grief/mourning, reader has a disability, reusing a bit of dialogue from a glee (yes) fic i wrote in high school.

notes: OKAY so i know i am like...really making you work for the porn here. sorry. take this gut-wrenching bullshit instead ??? also thank youuu gin for cheering me on in the DMs and for getting more eyes on my little fic, you are truly the bestest.

You don’t see Frankie for a few days, things operating as usual on set as the last week of June slips by. His number is in your phone now, but you don’t call. Sam goes back to Texas over the weekend and Mia returns to the top of your frequent calls list. After that evening with Frankie things feel different between you and your best friend. You want to ask her all the things she’s keeping from you—or more, all the things she might know you keep from her. White lies and omissions that have spiralled out of your control.

You didn’t realize that lying had become so easy, almost like second nature. How hard it is now to start being honest without the fragile, springy web coming apart and Mia seeing all of it. All of you.

That night, after driving back to set from 7-Eleven and saying your goodbyes to Frankie in the dark parking lot, you went home and stared at yourself for a while in the bathroom mirror. Maybe if you squinted hard enough, you could see what he was always observing within you. All you could see, half naked in front of the glass, were all the signs of medical interference on your body. The spindly scars all along the column of your neck and top of your spine, disappearing into the hair at the base of your skull that was slightly shorter than the rest. The permanent shadow of a line under your chest, a faint reminder of where the vested neck brace sat along your ribs.

You’re sitting in your car, scarfing down apple slices from the craft services table when your phone buzzes in your lap. The number isn’t listed in your contacts, but you recognize it immediately.

“Dr. Lopez,” you say as you answer the call.

“It’s just me honey.” Not Dr. Lopez but her sweet older receptionist, Dawn. “The good doctor wanted me to remind you about your appointment this week. July third at eleven o’clock. You can still make it I assume,” she says.

Shit. Your standing quarterly appointment that you’d already had to push back twice.

“Right, yeah. Should be fine.” You nod like she can see you now.

“Perfect. We’ll see you then. Have a good morning,” Dawn says.

“You too. Bye,” you say. Dawn hangs up first, surely eager to get to that next reminder phone call.

You’ve got shit to shoot that day, but an explanation and your pointed absence should be enough to get those scenes pushed back until after the holiday. Ashton will surely remark about bleeding money for half a day’s work, and you’re already rolling your eyes at the anticipated argument. Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Your health comes first, always.

Someone knocks at the window on the other side of your car. Mia waves at you, a stash of fruit bundled in her right arm as she uses her left to pull the door open.

“Hey,” she says with a huff, taking a seat next to you.

“Did you raid crafty?”

“Are you going to eat it?” she asks.

You answer by snatching the banana from the crook of her elbow, peeling it upside down before you take a bite.

“How are you holding up?” you ask.

It’s always tough for Mia in the days after Sam goes back home. That’s when she’s the one calling you at midnight, needing someone to talk to about nothing and everything. How much of a prick Ashton is, this new yoga routine she’s started that really unlocks one of her chakras, the guy with the sundial collection two doors down from you back in school.

“I’m doin’ alright,” she says. Mia slowly tears at a cutie mandarin, keeping the peel in her lap. “I think about the fact that we only have to do this for so much longer and feel a little bit better.”

“That’s good,” you say.

One thing about Mia is that she loves with her whole heart. Many of her past relationships ended because she wanted more, what her partners considered too much. She’d explained it once, tearful as she used the flat sheet of her twin bed to wipe at her eyes.

“I can’t just stop falling in love with someone. It turns into this free fall. I start to pour myself into this thing, like some sort of void. And it’ll never be full, but that’s okay because there’s supposed to be someone on the other end. Receiving all of that and returning it back to me.”

All you could do then, all you can still do now is nod silently. You have never felt that way about someone. Wasting away on love that will never be reciprocated sounds horrible and exhausting. Watching Mia lose herself in relationships to guys who meant zilch in comparison to the bright and shining star that she is taught you better. If she was decimated by a love like that, you would be absolutely destroyed.

“How’s your banana?”

“Starchy,” you say, mouth still full. You swallow. “Got that doctor’s appointment this week.”

“Oh? Is everything okay?” You hate that look in her eyes, oozing a concern so deep and immediate that it almost winds you.

“All fine. It’s just that quarterly thing. She wants to make sure I’m not dying,” you explain.

Mia hums, eyes on the citrus in her hand. She stops peeling, worry still intense all over. “You would tell me, right? If something was wrong?”

“Of course,” you say, a lie that rolls smoothly off your tongue. Internally you’re already kicking yourself. At the last specialist appointment, the doctor had taken x-rays of your skull, neck, and back. This was the appointment to discuss whatever they’d found with Dr. Lopez, and set out on the next steps in your care plan, if any at all. The fact that Dr. Lopez was so insistent about meeting each time you have had to reschedule tells you it isn’t nothing.

“I hope it goes well,” Mia says.

She pops a sliver of the fruit into her mouth. You adjust your seat back, laying diagonal to the gas pedal to rest your back. For a moment, the sun and silence drifts peacefully between you.

-

The furniture in the practice’s lobby is twenty years out of style; the fabric chairs all dark wood and fern green cushions as they form a double row in the middle of the carpeted room. Each piece of art that covers the wall space is dull and generic. A winter landscape here, mushy brown leaves there. It smells—like old people, like tiny sticky fingers, like ammonia.

When the nurse finally leads you to the last exam room on the left, your heart speeds up. This is where she butters you up, says all these sweet things before Dr. Lopez comes in and tells you that you’re going to be in a wheelchair in the next ten years. But all she does is watch you take a seat on the crinkly, sheer paper on the leather examination bed and ask if you need anything else.

“I’m fine,” you say. Then she’s gone.

You sit and wait for maybe five minutes, mind oscillating between the worst and the reality. Reality is, you’re here. Clearly this is about something, something the good doctor cannot tell you over the phone. Realistically, though, if you were going to die she would have told you by now.

When Dr. Lopez enters, your heart and mind pause simultaneously.

“Relax,” is the first thing she says, and you feel your tense muscles rest to unstrain themselves.

Why that worked, you’re unsure. Regardless, you say, “Thank you. Hi.”

“Hi,” Dr. Lopez returns. “I guess I don’t have to ask how you’ve been feeling.”

“Work’s been kind of getting to me lately,” you say. Not entirely a lie. Everything has been getting to you.

“How’s your limb function?”

“Fine. I haven’t had anything go numb on me in a couple of months.”

Dr. Lopez nods, taking a seat at the empty cushioned chair so that she’s at your level. “That’s good. Would you say you’re doing better?”

You have the urge to say maybe, to give her (and by extension, yourself) a little bit of hope amidst all of this. But you tell her the truth and say no. “That new mattress doesn’t really do anything. My neck is still stiff, and the nerve pain is almost constant.”

“You’re taking all of your medication?”

“And then some. I have an Advil delivery on auto-renewal,” you say.

“There’s an opportunity,” Dr. Lopez says.

“An opportunity,” you repeat.

“For you, for your spine. Surgery,” she continues.

“Okay,” you say slowly.

“I have to warn you that there are no guarantees, and the procedure is highly invasive. Moreso than your last.”

After your first and only surgery following the accident, you woke up feeling unlike yourself. Like someone had sliced you open and stolen a piece of your being while you were asleep on the table. Your skin didn’t feel like your own anymore. Your body was telling you something was still very wrong, as you would learn through the healing process. The pain stayed behind, even as the stitches closed and the skin at your neck mended itself into scars.

This was more invasive. Immediately, you are thoroughly uninterested, shaking your head.

“No. I can’t do that again,” you say.

She sighs. “I understand. They’ve performed the surgery a few times before to some highly successful results, which is why I brought it to your attention.” She’s shuffling through the manila file folder with all of your medical records now.

“Some,” you say.

“Pardon?”

“You said some. What about the others?”

Dr. Lopez purses her lips. She was probably hoping you wouldn’t ask. “Some other patients have seen little to no improvement to their condition or in their pain. And a small minority have experienced worsened pain and further limiting of their mobility.”

You could almost laugh. “And you want me to jump at this golden opportunity to disable myself more?” It’s rude, and you hate the way it comes out of your mouth as soon as you’ve said it.

Dr. Lopez eats the gut punch, shuffling on. “I know there’s a risk, but there’s always a risk. Without further surgery, your condition will worsen over time regardless. I thought this could be an opportunity. But if—”

“Can I think about it?” you ask. “I need to finish this project I’m working on before I can make any decisions. Could you give me the month?”

“Yes, I can do that,” Dr. Lopez says. She says your name, soft and low. The skin around her eyes crinkles, the only eyes involved in any of your medical experiences that has looked at you like another human being; like another soul. “You need to believe that things will get better or they never will. I understand that this…is not how you imagined your life going. But you have to hold space for something good within yourself. Miracles can occur.”

Now you really do laugh, a small snort out your nose as the right side of your mouth quirks up. “I’m not holding out any hope.”

Hope is a funny thing, though. It lingers, festering somewhere inside you in the hours that follow the appointment. If things go well, this could change your life. There’s that pesky word again—if. The surgery could change your life for the worse, too, bringing effects of the injury that are fifteen years away closer to fifteen months. Had this dilemma been posed to the old you, the better you, it would be a no-brainer. She was a risk-taker, fearless in her endeavours once she got a taste of what life could be like on the other side of chance. Now you hedge your bets. Take the jobs as they come, playing it safe with the projects you’re attached to.

You call Mia when you know production is at lunch, laying on your couch as you try and fail to bask in the peace granted to you by taking an emergency day.

“Hi,” you say as soon as the line picks up.

“Hey! How’d the appointment go?” she asks.

“Alright.” You shrug like she can see you. “Doc had some information for me, just thinking about it.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Mia asks. The bustle of background noise disappears as you hear a door click on her end.

“I’d like to think about anything but,” you say. “What’s going on there?”

“Ashton losing his mind in real time. Before we broke for lunch I was sure he was about to start shouting at people.”

“Great,” you sigh. “Looking forward to it.”

“At least you’ve got the holiday,” Mia says. “This is like your mid-week weekend.”

Right. Independence Day. You already know Mia has plans; she and Sam have been driving to the small, unincorporated town of Juliette for the holiday ever since she followed you down south. Every summer, she asks you to join them, and each time you say no. This year she didn’t bother to ask.

“I’m sure there’s stuff going on in the city,” Mia offers, “or you could go to Florida, hop on some boat for the night. Or follow Frankie.” She laughs as she says it, but the mention of his name has you perking up.

“What?” you ask.

“He’s headed to Florida tonight. Got this air show tomorrow, down at—shit, where was it? Pensacola something. Pensacola Beach.”

“You spoke to him?”

“He stopped by early this morning. Looking for you actually, but Priscilla told him that you’d called out,” Mia says.

“So Florida, huh?” You sit up, pulling your laptop off the coffee table.

“I mean why not?” Mia muses. “Maybe it could be good for you.” Her voice morphs into something softer, less amiable and airy.

“Yeah, maybe,” you say. You wedge the phone between your ear and shoulder, typing at your keyboard.

“But listen, whatever you get up to, text me alright? Even if it’s nothing.” Mia knows you well enough to predict your usual Fourth of July activities: curling up in bed with earplugs and a good DVD, the blinds drawn over your window. “I’ll send you some photos of the fireworks from the river.”

“Sounds good,” you say, half-distracted.

Mia mumbles her goodbye and you hang up, focused on the information passing your screen with every few clicks. In just a couple of minutes, you’ve found the Pensacola Air Show’s website. The when and where details of the event cover the landing page. There's several others, links leading to a detailed history of the show and images from past events that you skip right over. At the bottom of the tab sits exactly what you are looking for, clicking the highlighted link that says Pilots. Organized alphabetically, you find Frankie halfway down the list. What had Mia said? Or follow Frankie… Puppy, meet postman.

The picture used beside his blurb of professional experience is of a Frankie you’ve never seen before. He’s a little younger, clean-shaven in a pressed uniform, the American flag at his left shoulder. This must be his flight school portrait. He looks less weather-worn, all the weight of a life in the military yet to settle heavy over him.

In the following hour, you manage to book a room at some seedy motel in West Pensacola and pack a duffel bag with a day’s worth of clothes. You raid the kitchen, tossing bottles of water and a few granola bars in your bag for the road. Leaving at almost eleven o’clock, you set out for the very edge of Florida’s beaches.

The streets are quiet once again, the community of Cobb County asleep in their beds as you drive, stopping at an intersection. The security lights of the Kroger next to the road bathe you in a harsh white glow, lighting up the shadowy interior of the car. You look down at yourself, seated behind the wheel, ready to drive five hours and some change to go…watch planes circle between the sea and sky.

What are you doing? You aren’t quite sure at the moment. For once, the feeling is invigorating, not hapless.

It’s only when you start passing through Union City on the 403 that you begin to second guess your decision. You stop in East Newnan, the last “big” town for a little while, to use the bathroom. You buy a map and a gas station churro too, hunger getting the best of you; a stunning example of hypocrisy that you can never tell Frankie about. Something tells you he would never let it go.

The roads turn from the dry grey of asphalt to slick black, rain pooled onto the solid surface. A storm must’ve been through here recently, tall crops on either side of the highway swaying with residual winds.

Driving over the Chattahoochee River, you pull into the town of Opelika about twenty minutes later. You park away from the street lights in a Burger King parking lot, waiting for an oncoming bout of exhaustion to either pass or take you to sleep in the front seat. The radio buzzes softly from the car speakers, keeping the beat of your brain as your thoughts drift.

The question still remains: what are you doing, really? Are you so desperate for human connection that you’ll practically stalk the first person who piques your interest?

When you open your eyes again, the sky is light outside your windshield. Stores are still closed in the plaza around you. The car’s analog display tells you it’s barely seven o’clock in the morning.

Back on the road, you watch the world waking up through your windows. Montgomery, Hope Hull, and Letohatchee all pass by before you pull to the side of the road for a stretch. You take a bottle from your bag and chug water sitting on the hood of your car. You take your pills, looking up at the bright blue. Out here, far away from any city, the view is better than you could have imagined.

It’s another three and a half hours before you reach Pensacola, Florida. Eternal beachiness plagues the town, even in the suburbs away from the coast. The Western Inn slouches at the end of the street, sitting just off Mobile Highway with its rough, mint-tinted roof. Checking in at the front desk, a man certainly older than sliced bread hands you a set of jingling keys that unlock a room on the first floor.

The place is nothing special. The toilet is rusted, floors a weepy grey linoleum. The quilt that envelopes the bed is truly garish, dark red lilies and green palm fronds littering the expanse of the fabric. A sad room for your sad journey down to Florida, to see a man you hardly know do what he does best.

You never took a road trip before the accident. There are a lot of things that you never got to do, things that you’d be unable to now: hike across Europe, or drive a race car, or scale the side of the Empire State Building. A road trip seemed so out of the question—where would you go, what could you do—and yet here you are.

At noon, you take a rideshare to the beach. It’s a good thing, too—there’s barely a spot for the driver to idle and let you out of the car, never mind to park.

The sun beats down on you, hot and relentless, the air muggy with warmth. Still, the view of the water is beautiful. Beyond a crowding of luxury beach resorts, the water is as blue and clear as the sky. Waves rush up to the white sand every few moments, the foamy suds receding back into the ocean with its pull. When was the last time you went swimming? You should’ve brought a bathing suit.

Pensacola’s pier stretches out in front of you a thousand feet long. You stay on the shore, taking your shoes in your hands, balling your socks and stuffing them into the left one. The sand is soft on your skin. You dig your toes into its warmth, a small smile gracing your face. It has been so long since you’ve felt something like this.

An announcer farther down the water starts speaking into a microphone, her voice booming across the beach. She introduces the event, all business and no frills, before the sound of her speaking disappears again. The planes are off, moving in the sky before you have time to register what’s happening. Blue and yellow-striped navy planes—the Blue Angels, you remember from the website—jet into your field of view, puffy trails of white exhaust following them wherever they move. A half an hour passes, the blue jets trailing each other, flying upside down, and moving with the skill and synchronicity of an Olympic gymnastics team.

A fleet of five grey planes follow up the first performance, pulling stunts that moreso scare than amaze you. They fly in almost-circles, spinning around each other graciously in the sky before one parts from the group, dipping low. So low, you think the aircraft is about to skate along the water and fly into the Gulf of Mexico. The pilot pulls up just in time, shooting into the air at a thirty degree angle before circling back to join the identical planes.

That’s Frankie, it must be. In truth, you don’t know for sure, but you can feel it. The movements of the plane mimic that of his own, the casual sass of it all, like it’s no big deal. You imagine him in the cockpit, sweating but grinning under his helmet. Suddenly, you’re an expert in analysing the personal swagger of planes.

Another two hours passes in a blistering haze. Eventually, you put your shoes back on and take shelter in a gift shop, the sun too much for your body to handle. You buy lunch—a tall souvenir cup of freshly squeezed lemonade and a hot dog—before finding the only bench in shade left along the sandy strip. The sun eases up as more people filter away from this beach, either back to their cars or further along the sand towards Navarre.

You almost choke on the dregs of your pulpy lemonade when you spot him, Frankie, in line at one of the few other food trucks along the beach. Silently, you weigh your options. Going over and talking to him is fine, probably, but what if it isn’t? What if he thinks you’re a freak for showing up here, on this…public beach. Okay, maybe it’s fine. You can play this off as a funny coincidence.

You are up and walking over before you can think about it any longer, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. He turns, aviators protecting his eyes from the sun. Frankie says your name with an easy grin.

“Funny seeing you here,” he says.

“You too.” You shield your eyes from the sun.

He removes his sunglasses, hooking them in the collar of his t-shirt. “You down here for the show then?”

You hum. “Something like that.”

“Something like that,” he repeats, then nods.

When it’s Frankie’s turn to order, he steps up to the window and asks for waffle fries. “You want anything?”

“Oh no,” you say, shaking your head. “I just had a bite.”

“Gotcha.” He pays, then steps to the side of the line to wait for the food.

“Did you like it?” Frankie asks, cutting in on your thoughts.

“Sorry?”

“The show, d’you like it?” he asks again.

Right. The air show that you drove five hours to, rented a motel room for, bought a very overpriced rideshare to go see. That’s why you’re here.

“Yeah,” you say. “It was pretty cool. I kept half-expecting one of you to crash into the water.”

Frankie’s hand gets a gentle hold on your shoulder as he gives you a friendly pat. It burns at the skin exposed to his warm fingers. “That’s half the excitement,” he says.

When he’s handed a striped cardboard basket of waffle fries, Frankie absolutely douses them in both vinegar and orange seasoning salt. You try not to make a face. Clearly, you’re unsuccessful. The laugh you pull from his chest seems like it rips through him, up his throat and gloriously into the space between you.

Frankie starts to walk and you join him. He asks about the drive; you tell him you got here this morning, coming straight from Atlanta.

“I never realized how beautiful it is, away from everything,” you say.

“You don’t go camping often, I take it,” Frankie says.

You shake your head no, words clogging your throat like a knot once again.

“You should. I know this great spot, right up in Alabama too…” He ends his sentence there, blinking away whatever was supposed to follow it up.

“I wish. With work I barely have time to make dinner most nights.” Not untrue, but not the truth either. You could make time, somewhere in your calendar. Make use of the off-days between projects when all you do is rot against the mattress.

Frankie launches into a camping story from his childhood, when his dad drove them from Texas to Michigan in the dead of winter so they could both see some snow. The stay was tumultuous at best, your eyes widening as he tells you about how none of their gear worked properly.

“Really, I think the only thing that kept us alive for those couple o’ days was the campfire my pops kept up the whole time,” Frankie says.

The sun is setting slowly along the horizon now, the beach drawing a fresh crowd. The group is smaller than before, people awaiting the fireworks to begin popping off of luxury yachts in the distance.

“I have no idea how he did that, but I’m glad you didn’t freeze to death,” you say. “I would be royally screwed without a lighter or something.”

“You don’t know how to build a campfire?” Frankie asks.

“Nope.”

“Oh well, that’s gotta change.”

You two are back on the sand now, shoes in your hands as you walk along the grainy plains. He walks a little away from you, drifting to wherever a stray stick or smaller log lies on the ground. Once he’s collected a bundle of them, Frankie joins you again. He drops the wood to the sandy floor, sitting down in a deep hill of it. Then he’s scooping sand with his palms, leaving a hole in front of him. You sit down and join him, watching as he lays the varying sticks and driftwood into a nest of sorts.

Frankie takes one stick, running it between a deep wedge in one of the drier logs back and forth. After a few minutes of this, he sighs and pulls a lighter from his back pocket, lighting the stick before tossing it to the bed of wood.

“Had that worked, I would’ve been extremely impressed,” you say.

“Had that worked, I would have expected some sort of prize,” he says.

“I’ve got a solid high five or a pat on the back as consolation?”

Frankie raises his palm towards you, and you slap it eagerly. “That’ll suffice. I’m feeling consoled.”

“It’s too humid out here anyway. Luck is not on our side tonight,” you sigh.

“I don’t know. I feel it,” he says. You give him a curious look. “Lucky to do what I love, lucky to be here. Lucky you’re here.”

“I don’t know if luck has anything to do with it,” you say. You and Frankie have already had this conversation.

“Do you feel unlucky?” he asks.

“That’s a loaded question.”

“It’s just a question,” Frankie says. “But I know you’re squirrely about answering those.”

The sky is dark and the sun is gone, almost like it was never there. Fireworks start up behind you, beside you, in front of you. God bless America.

You mull over your usual two options. Deflecting—I’m honestly not that interesting. Or derisive—Not everyone can have a postcard perfect life.

You choose the outlier, a third option. The truth.

"You believe in a bad miracle?" you ask, your voice so quiet that the sound is almost swallowed by the fireworks. Almost.

"What do you mean, a bad miracle?" Frankie asks.

"Like, something unbelievable. Astonishing, you know? But maybe it's not good. Maybe it'd been better if it didn't happen at all."

"I guess," he says. "Why? Had any of those lately?"

You laugh, the sound small and stifled. "You know about the pills," you say—not a question, but a statement. Everyone knows about the pills. They're always on you, almost a part of you, chattering at your waist with every step.

"Yeah," Frankie admits. "Never asked. I didn't want to pry."

A long moment of silence draws on between you. It's your turn to speak, but you can't. What are you supposed to say? You've never told this story to anyone. Mia was there when it happened, and then she was at the hospital, explaining it all. After that, any doctor that you came across simply read your chart. No need for explanations.

"I had an accident," is where you start. "Two years ago. This shoot was weird. Underwater shit in Kaua'i. We were out along these rocks, away from all those beautiful beaches. I was supposed to dive, and like, swim down to the bottom.” Your voice cracks, popping like a candle wick. When did your face become wet with tears?

"So I dove, but no one signaled that there was a wave coming. The stunt coordinator was just entirely off his ass. I got flipped around right under the surface and the uh, the force from the wave knocked me—"

You can't remember everything now, couldn't remember when you woke up in a Hawaiian hospital either. You remember the searing pain after the surgery, the sensation that haunts you now, settled to a dull ebb with time and medication.

"I'm sorry," Frankie says.

"Not your fault. And anyway, I should be happy. Right? That's what the doctors said. That it was a fucking miracle I wasn't paralyzed, or something to that extent. And they’re right. It's a privilege that I'm not pissing myself all the time, that I can even sit here and bitch about it but..." you trail off. "It's kind of dark," is all you say.

"It's fine," Frankie says.

"Sometimes I wonder if it would've been better if I just hadn't made it. Like, this—this life? It’s my bad miracle." Nothing. Crickets. "Morbid, right?"

After a while, Frankie shakes his head. "No. I mean, yeah, but—" He half-shrugs. "My friend, Santiago? The asshole. He's kind of in a similar situation."

"Oh?" you question.

"They offered him another surgery, to fix the issue. He told me he asked if they were sure the procedure would kill him if anything went wrong this time," Frankie says. "So I guess that's his. Bad miracle, I mean."

There's something in his eyes, shiny and unobstructed for but a moment. A glint that makes you want to ask him, what's yours?

When Frankie looks away, he's seemingly snapping you from an overly open stupor as well. The weight of your words settles over you, a small look of horror flickering across your face before you reign it in against the dark.

You shift away from his body in the sand. You've just shoveled a small landfill of your bullshit onto this man, your coworker, and you can't take it back. You can see the words floating like the specks in your office. Bad miracle, hospital, paralyzed. You wish you could grab them from where they move between the two of you and shove them back into your mouth, down your throat where they would effectively die.

Frankie gives you a curious hum, eyebrows quirked as he looks at you under the brief, exploding lights in the sky.

"I should not have said all that. That was so unprofessional. I—"

He says your name, staring at you again. "It's fine. You're fine. We're not at work."

After a while, the waves lapping at the sand, you say, "This doesn't mean you get to pity me or anything."

"Pity you?" Frankie asks. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good," you say. "When people find out, or even just after the accident, it's like living a gravy train of apologies and expectations. Other people's sorrow."

"I mean, I get it. You can be sorry it happened," Frankie says.

"I guess. I don’t really understand.” Then, “Condolences feel like empty bombs of other people’s grief passed off to the grieving for defusal. What's anyone supposed to do with that?"

Frankie's looking out at the water, the fire and the sand forgotten now. "Commiserate," he says. "Better to suffer together than suffer alone. On the surface that sounds stupid, but when you're in it, you want someone to do it with you."

You can't help but disagree. This thing, it happened to you. You have to live with the outcome, sure, but why should everyone else? How does that make the thing better?

"I don't know if that's true," you say.

"For you," he says. "And really, I’d say that’s not even the truth either."

The fire crackles in front of both of you, lighting the wick of indignation in your throat.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean that I've been trying to get to know you for weeks, and I think I was closer when you thought I was a carpenter here to fix the studio upholstery," Frankie says. The camp flickers and reflects in his eyes.

Suddenly, you wish you could implore that you don't like him, put the blame on that wicked crutch of an excuse. Unfortunately there's too much logical evidence against that; that first lunch interaction, the bar, here and now at the beach. Plus all the time you took considering it. Considering him. When did Frankie Morales start to take up so much space in your head?

So all you say is, “I’m sorry,” because there’s not much left but that. Your tears are dry on your face. Frankie’s hand finds yours in the sand, not holding it, but landing nearby. You don’t look at him, and you know his eyes are on you. Red, white, and blue flames light the sky.

The fire dies slowly, your signal to get moving again. If you leave now, you can catch a couple hours of sleep before the non-stop drive back to Atlanta.

You’re about to call a ride when Frankie says, “Let me drive you.”

“It’s fine, really,” you say. You’re split into two halves: the part of you that wants to run away from him, and the part that wants to pull yourself even closer.

“How long ‘til the car gets here?” he asks.

You look at your phone, reading the time estimate. “Twenty minutes.”

That’s all the confirmation that Frankie needs, nodding towards the parking lot as he puts his shoes back on. “Come on. My truck is over this way.”

Getting in is a bit of a struggle, Frankie mindful of the way your body twists as you try to get into the passenger seat by yourself. He ends up getting in on the driver’s side, leaning out of the opposite door to help you up, giving you an odd sense of deja vu.

Up here, you feel so far away from the road and the rest of the world. Sandy concrete turns to solid asphalt, the yellow lines blurring together as the truck drives by. You tell him the address of the motel, watching as he types it into his phone’s GPS at a red light.

Oh god. Oh god. Frankie Morales is taking you home right now. This cannot be happening. The truck is driving at sixty miles an hour. In another twenty seconds you are going to Charlie’s Angels roll out the door, that—

“I’m glad you came,” Frankie says.

“Huh?”

“I was kind of hoping you would. Come down, see the show.” All of his soul-delving seriousness is gone now, Frankie’s demeanor changed as he slides back into the casual banter you two share.

“That’s why you told Mia,” you say.

“Guilty as charged.”

“So that was the plan then? Get me down to Florida, build me a fire, I spill my guts?”

“Not exactly. But friendships formed from fire usually last the longest. Even if that fire is some pit on the beach,” Frankie says.

“I see,” you nod. Friendship. Friendship, friendship, friendship. That’s what this is.

The truck pulls into the dimly lit parking lot of the Western much sooner than you’d like. He walks you to the door, a true gentleman. You can’t figure out how to say goodbye, lingering just past the doorway and the open air.

“Well,” Frankie says. “Happy Fourth of July.”

“Happy Fourth, Francisco,” you return, intoning his full name to put up some sort of barrier. To scold yourself, a reminder of what your relationship to this man really is.

He rolls his eyes with a smile and a huff. “It’s just Frankie.” That should be it, the end of the interaction. Frankie still doesn’t move and neither do you.

This is taking too long, too much time passing for a farewell. You’re being obvious now, watching him watch you half in the dark. You shouldn’t have driven down here. You shouldn’t have gone to the air show. Those things can’t change now, but this can.

But then he takes a deep breath and starts to turn away from you. Your hand flies out and grabs his shoulder, because hell. There’s a lot of things you shouldn’t do. You kiss him, rough and slow, granting Frankie an out if he wants it. When he deepens the kiss, opening his mouth, it’s clear that he doesn’t.

Frankie moves his hands to your ribs, pushing his palms over your body to wrap behind you. You’re pulling him closer by his broad shoulders, noses squishing together a bit. He pulls away for a breath with that flash in his eyes you keep finding. The golden fireworks that sparkle and pop in the distance must be paid actors.

“Do you want to come inside?” you ask, voice strained. Extremely unprofessional, decidedly unplatonic.

“Yes,” Frankie says.

Who fucking cares about those things anyway?

tags: @wannab-urs / @anoverwhelmingdin / @iamskyereads &lt;3

[wounds-seen-and-unseen]

Memorio Occultae In Nubio Occultas- 1: The First Cloud

All right, here we begin!

Please refer to this post for the requisite context-building for this fic.

Trigger warnings: Discussions of dementia, character breaking down, character nearly panicking, implied self-blame.

Chapter under the cut.

Tag list: @dreamer-in-sleep and @i-eat-worlds @themorguepoet @abstractmarshmallow

Please DM/ask/comment if you want to be added to/removed from my tag list.

“Adrian! Breakfast is ready, dearheart.” Alazne loves this everyday routine, little moments that have hardly changed over the years.

Familiar footsteps patter in the short corridor between their bedrooms and the kitchen. “Just a minute, mama.” He comes into view, curls already defying the combed order they were set in, slinging his stethoscope casually around his throat as he walks.

She sits as he does, his hand automatically reaching for the steaming cup of Boost. One of his little quirks, that he never grew out of the malt based drinks of childhood. “Mmm. Perfect as usual, mama.” She laughs. “Never going to grow up, are you?” He grins back. “You like me the way I am.” “Touché.”

He sobers up then, looking seriously at her. “We have another ophthalmologist appointment today evening. I’ll pick you up, we should be careful with your vision being what it is.” She rolls her eyes. “And there we go, Dr. Everheart is here. You worry too much.” “Mama, there is no harm in being careful. I’ve seen patients suffer quite a bit because they were careless.” He sighs. “I should meet Miss Elaine today, Dr. Sinclair said that her mother is deteriorating…” “and I am not your patient, Dr. Everheart. You’ll have to settle for being my son. You are not taking away my independence just because some patient of yours is struggling. I will not stand for it.”

He is silent for a moment, before he nods. “You’re right. Forgive me, mama. I tend to be rather overprotective because of what I see often at work.” “I know, kiddo. I’ll meet you at the hospital, after your work. We’ll go together for the appointment. Sounds good?” “Yeah.” He looks at his watch. “And that’s my cue, mama, see you later!” He rises and sprints out, waving at her. She smiles with a shake of her head. Her protective little boy.

“Dr. Everheart will see you now, ma’am.” Elaine rises, barely holding back a sigh. Delegated to yet another doctor, are we? I’ll have to start from the beginning, all over again.

She is pleasantly surprised when she walks inside the doctor’s office. A dusky young man rises with a smile as she enters. “Hello, miss Elaine. I imagine that you’d be quite frustrated by this frequent switching, but rest assured, I’ll be handling your mother’s case for the foreseeable future. I hope you don’t mind that I familiarised myself with your mother’s history.” She stares at him for a moment, having expected quite the colder welcome. “Familiarised how?” is all she manages to ask, at a loss how to respond.

Dr. Everheart is happy to answer. “I am Dr. Sinclair’s student. I went over his rendition of her history, although, if you wish to say it in your own words again, I will defer to that.” He shoots her a crinkle-eyed grin. “I supposed you would not want to go through the whole process again, though.” The spark of mischief in his eyes makes her grin, too. “You supposed right, Dr. Everheart.”

“Alright. I’m glad I did, then.” He pauses. “I’ll go through what I feel is the crux of your difficulties caring for Ms. Ariadne, okay? Please feel free to correct me if you wish.” She nods. “Okay. I think that, a major issue you might be facing is that she may be frustrated and, for the lack of a better word, acting out at what is a genuine attempt to take care of her. You might feel overwhelmed and may lose your temper as well.”

This time, when he looks at her, his voice is lower, softer. “Let me start out by saying something very simple. You are not a bad daughter for losing control sometimes. All we can do is try. We make mistakes, and that’s alright.”

Elaine is startled herself by the tears that rise at his gentle affirmation. He puts a hand on her shoulder for a long moment, then quietly steps aside, handing her tissues one after another. When she is sniffling out the last of her tears, managing to mumble out her thanks, he, gentle still, stops her halting attempts. “This is what I am here for. My job is to not only take care of your mother’s needs, but also to provide support to you. I will look for more concrete support options if you wish, but until we find one, my door is open for you.”

“…You’re quite different from the doctors I usually meet, Dr. Everheart.” He laughs. “Believe me, I have been told that a few times.” “With good reason.” “Thank you. Do you need a minute, or shall we go on?” “No, I am already taking up a lot of your time, do go on.” “That’s alright. That is, as I said, what I am here for. Moving on. When you interact with someone who has dementia, you both look at things differently, naturally. We all have our perspectives, obviously. The problem is that for those of us who do not have dementia, it is difficult to grasp their difficulties. They may not be able to verbalise it well.” “Yes, mom struggles with speaking, a lot.” “Which is understandable. That is why, as her doctor, I tried going closer to the source.” “I am afraid I do not understand your meaning, doctor.” Closer to the source? Mom can barely speak, and he’s never met her.

“I read books that people with dementia have written about the disease. If you wish, I can send you those books. If it is too close for comfort, that’s fine as well. I have taken some notes from whatever I have read till now, I’ll share those with you instead, and you can ask me whatever doubts you have.”

She knows she is staring at him again. “You sure do your homework, doctor.” “I try,” he answers simply. “Do you want the books, though, or my notes?” She swallows. “Your notes, if that’s alright, doctor.” “Sure.” In a minute, he quickly AirDrops a handwritten note.

As she reads the short bullet points, there is a knock on the door.

“Yes?” asks Dr. Everheart. “You’re needed slightly urgently, sir. There seems to be a lost and confused patient who came alone for an appointment.” He rises immediately, the door half-opened before he realises she is still in the office. “Oh.” He breathes. “I’ll come along for a bit of the way, doctor, if you don’t mind? I have a few questions.” He nods. “That’s fine,” he says, “if you don’t mind my distraction.” “Not at all.” He nods once more. “Alright.”

He sets off at a fast walk, turning to the staff member who had come. “Details about the patient?” he asks. The lady takes a moment to think.

Elaine takes the moment to speak. “Would you meet mom once? I want to discuss some interventions with her present.” He’s nodding before she finishes her sentence. “I wanted to meet”-

The other lady interrupts him. “Probably early sixties, slightly confused, but otherwise oriented. She has an unusual name. Something like Alayne.” “Alayne? Did she tell you why she’s alone? We specify that all patients should have someone with them.” “Oh, she said her son would meet her here, but she’s forgotten his cell number.” The doctor frowns. “He is probably her emergency contact, you could try her phone.” “She’s left it at home. Oh! Her name is not Alayne. It’s Alazne.”

His eyes blowing wide, barely whispering a hoarse “no…” Dr. Adrian Everheart takes off at a run. Elaine, confused, turns to the lady next to her. “Is the woman his patient?” The other woman shakes her head. “Not that I know of.”

Concerned for the young man who has shown her genuine concern for the first time in what felt like years, she follows quietly.

He’s not hard to follow, although she, too, has to run. People automatically make a way for him, the young man who seems like he is barely able to breathe.

As he skids his way to the emergency front desk, she can clearly hear a woman’s voice. “No, he wouldn’t do that on purpose. Addy is probably just busy, he’ll come. I’m fine, just a little out of place. Please don’t call him, my son is quite the worrier on a good day. I can wait.” So she has a concerned son. Why would he let her come alone though?

Dr. Everheart abruptly stops at the desk, nearly falling. “Oh, sir, it’s not that urgent of an emergency.” He shakes his head, his breaths hardly more than gasps. “Where’s mama?” he asks breathlessly.

Oh. Oh, Lord. Elaine ducks back quietly, but she can clearly hear the receptionist ask “Dr. Everheart? Mama?”

“Addy! Here you are! Oh, you’ve got him all worried, see?” the lady exclaims, chiding the staff. “I told you, Addy wouldn’t just leave me alone.” Her son runs to her, hugging her tight, and Elaine cannot look away.

“Oh, Addy. It’s alright, dearheart, I’m fine. Don’t worry, I’m just a bit forgetful these days. There, kiddo, it’s alright.” He says nothing for a moment, but she can see his face. In that moment, all she can think is that if utter devastation had an accurate representation, it would be the look on the young doctor’s face.

“Here I am,” he echoes, voice husky. “Of course you are. How was your day?” Still holding his mother in an embrace, his chin on her head, her son’s throat clicks in a harsh swallow, lashes rapidly blinking away the sheen in his eyes.

“Good,” he says softly. “My day was good. Shall we go to your appointment? I think we need to talk to Dr. Sinclair.” “I defer to your experience here, dearheart. You know what to do.” “I am sorry, mama, I should have taken better care of you, been in control of this situation, I’m sorry I didn’t do that.” His voice echoes in her mind, gentle and soft, as opposed to husky and contrite. You are not a bad daughter, for losing control sometimes.

And Elaine can look no more.

[theblueeyedeagle]

Okay I did the thing! I made a discorddd

If y’all want to hang out and discuss Giangio (channels for other characters too) shoot me a dm and I’ll send you a link to the server!

Please be aware it’s 18+ only and not spoiler free.

(If you only like the post I’ll assume you’re just lurking/bookmarking and I won’t bother ya)

[threadsun]

🎉You're Invited to the Dead Dove Discord Server🎉

What is the Dead Dove Discord Server?

A discord server dedicated to all things yandere! The Dead Dove Discord Server is dedicated to anti-censorship and exploring the darker (and kinkier) sides of yandere content. With our consent statement and rules (see below), we allow any content as long as the real people involved are all consenting adults. We consider fiction to be equivalent to a scene in bdsm, and therefore operate under the same ideas of informed consent and playing with the taboo that the bdsm community do.

How do I Join?

Shoot me a DM! One of the most important parts of our server is that everyone is 18+ so we have an age verification process. You will be asked to send me a picture on discord (so you can delete it once I've verified your age) of you holding a paper that says your discord ID + a photo ID with everything but your picture and date of birth blocked out. I will walk you through it more thoroughly once you've reached out to me. The mods of the server all went through the same process with each other. We are dedicated to keeping this an adults-only space. Because we are also dedicated to making it a space where consent is important, any blogs I have blocked for violating my consent by following me without an age in their bio are automatically barred from the server. Before sending the link to join, I will ask you for the password that is hidden somewhere within the rules. Once you have joined, you will be automatically given a role for 24 hours that only allows you to see the server and not participate so that you have time to acclimate to the culture of the server.

What Can We Post in the Server?

Fanfics, fanart, headcanons, silly thoughts, OCs, basically anything that doesn't violate the rules!! As long as you keep the right topics to the right channels, go wild!! We are a server dedicated to yandere content, however, so try to keep most of your conversations on topic.

Consent Statement and Rules:

Consent Statement: By joining this server you are consenting to seeing 18+ content centred around yanderes. This may include kinks and scenarios you personally find uncomfortable/distasteful/immoral. By being here, you are consenting to see these things. You can revoke this consent at any time by muting channels or leaving the server. Because you are giving your consent by being here, you may not try to stop people from discussing things just because of personal discomfort or a personal belief that it is wrong. It is your own responsibility to keep yourself safe, not the responsibility of the server. By being here, you are also consenting to being under the tyrannical rule of the Big Rats. If you aren't okay with that then you are welcome to leave at any time. This is our fun little playground we're inviting you to, so for as long as you're here, you're beholden to our fickle whims. Rules:

Don’t be a dick. Treat everyone here like they’re real people, cause they probably are.

Any kind of bigotry against marginalised people will get you hit with an immediate ban, no exceptions. This includes defending bigotry in media and especially bigotry in comedy.

Consent is key! If someone tells you to stop talking to them about something, respect it! However, as everyone has agreed to the consent statement, no one can tell someone to stop talking entirely about a topic unless it violates a rule (other than mods, we can do whatever we want)

No sadposting/venting. If you’re having problems in your personal life, reach out to a trusted friend, not a discord server full of horny weirdos. Examples of venting will be shown below.

ALL character hate/clowning MUST go in ⁠⁠the-dunk-tank. No hating on characters anywhere else.

Keep things to the appropriate chats! If you don’t know which chat it should go in, feel free to ask. If you're in the wrong chat, you'll get a gentle nudge with the spray bottle to go into the right chat, but that doesn't mean you're in any trouble! We all do it sometimes, and we're all working to get better at it together.

No kink shaming and no moral posturing about fantasies/fiction. As long as the real people involved are consenting adults (and by being in this server, you are consenting) then you are not allowed to shame or try to silence people. Bringing up specific real children or animals does NOT fall under this rule, and WILL result in a ban.

No posting full content from paid sites. If something is only available if you pay for it, do not share it in totality for free. The code is rape and incest. If you're posting free content, make sure the creator is credited. Respect artists/creators and their works!

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Do not dm other members of the server without permission. Not everyone is comfortable with being approached one on one out of nowhere. If you're unsure whether or not people are okay with it, you can either ask or check their roles for the @DMs Open or @Ventable (in DMs) roles

No bringing up proship/anti discourse or any other similar fandom discourse. It's reductive and stupid, and we all know where this server stands on fiction so there's no point. This is meant to be a place where we can forget about the way other people think we should enjoy fiction, so please don't remind us. Examples of discourse will be shown below.

No arguing with the mods. We are The Giant Rats Who Make All The Rules, whatever we say goes. This is not a democracy, it is a silly discord server for fun and the mods don’t owe you access to our server.

If you violate a minor rule, you will be put on a time out. If you violate a minor rule multiple times or violate a major rule, you will be banned. If the mods haven’t noticed something that violates the rules, or you are having issues in the server, please reach out to us about it! These rules are always subject to change, and any changes will be announced in the ⁠announcements channel

Examples of Venting and Discourse:

✅ Allowed ❌ Not allowed

✅ “I have the flu and I’m sad”/”I tripped down the stairs lmao”/”My eczema is acting up today 😔 ” ❌ “I’ve been sick all week and I haven’t been able to talk to anyone or do my work and there’s no groceries in the fridge, but I can’t go out to get any 😭 “ ✅ “Work was shit today, oh well. how is everyone?” ❌ “Hey guys, how are you? work was so shitty, my boss is such a dick and i think i might get fired. seriously freaking out right now, what am I going to do? life sucks so bad” ✅ “Hell of a day today. Not feeling the best so sorry if i don't talk much.” ❌ “No like. I'm going through a Lot rn but it's fine I'll be ok. I'm having so many issues rn don't even worry about it. It's jsut. A lot rn and i don't know what to do but don't worry about it.” ✅ “Hey, I’m having a tough time, is anyone up for talking in DMs about it?” ❌ “I just got kicked out of my house and I don’t have any money, can I talk to someone please? I don’t know what to do, I’m so scared right now.” ✅ “Damn, I wish I had someone local to play with, I wanna get fucked” ❌ “Ever since my partner left me, I haven’t been able to find anyone to have sex with, and it sucks. I want someone to hold me and love me and make me feel like I’m important and special. And I want someone to tie me up and fuck me, but now I’m single so I don’t have anyone to do that with” ✅ Going through a bad breakup rn. Won't be too active for a bit. Sorry. ❌ I'm fucking HEARTBROKEN rn it's not right! Not fair! How could they do this to me! After EVERYTHING I gave them. Sorry I'm so emotional but!!! It's too much for me rn I can't believe I got played like that. I gave them everything. EVERYTHING. I thought they loved me! But no of course not, I'm so unlovable! I'm gonna go lie down in the dark and listen to a sad playlist and die. ✅ “Why do all the snaccpop guys have the same hair??” ❌ “Honestly, the fact that all the snaccpop guys look the same is such a sign that they’re going downhill. Seriously, they suck and are clearly cutting corners with their art. They’re losing all their fans and the fandom is basically dead” ✅ “Lmao look at this stupid anon I got [screenshot of an anon saying genuinely funnily stupid things]” ❌ “Look at this post, it pisses me off so bad, people don’t understand what the point of this game is [link to a tumblr post that’ll make people mad]” ✅ “For anyone looking to write about an alcoholic character, here’s some of my personal experiences of alcoholism: [information/personal experience]” ❌ “I think my problem with intoxplay is that I’m a recovering alcoholic and I find it super triggering because I had to find a completely new friend group since all my old friends were heavy drinkers too. So seeing people write about it is really upsetting to me, and I need to talk about it with my therapist cause I saw some untagged intoxplay on tumblr and now I’m in a spiral”

[kalpeavaris]

FAQ & Info Post

Some Information upfront

(just something quick to link in my pinned post)

Something I gotta mention upfront is that I’m a blind artist. Please do not send me asks/DMs in different fonts or e.g "l33k speech", I can't read these. I take some time to respond, dw, you're not being ignored! Sometimes I just get overwhelmed writing.

Also, my blog’s a safe space for queer and disabled folks as well as mental health topics. I don’t tolerate any ableism or queerphobia on this blog nor do I wish to discuss that. I don't take myself too serious on the internet & am mostly just here to share stuff that makes me giggle like a hyena on adderall. B)

I speak both English & German, so feel free to use these languages with me! My English is better though (despite being german lmao)

FAQ below the cut!

Do you take requests/commissions/art trades?

I don’t do commissions (anymore), but I am open for art trades if I pop off with someone’s art & OCs. c: Usually for Art Trades I'm not thaaat picky about "quality"/"artist level", I just go off of vibes.

If you're interested in like an Art Trade or Collab just shoot me a DM and I'll see how my schedule's going. Can't promise to accept everyone, though. Sorry!

I do draw random fanart for other people from time to time if I'm in da mood so I don't get burned out on my own stuff. BD

Can I DM you?

I mean I can't stop ya- if we’re mutuals go for it! I usually check all my messages, but it might take a second or two for me to respond. ;;

Can I send you asks?

Sure! I love recieving asks and answering them if I can from both non-mutuals and mutuals. c:

Can I draw your design/oc?

Omg ya! I love fanart! Doesnt matter if its for AU re-designs, own designs (like my personal Drone!Tessa or own characters). Do tag me in it if you wanna, idm tags!

Can I use your AU redesign for my AU/story/etc.?

Generally speaking I dont mind. Most of my redesigns are fairly minor in the way I change them up.

The only two designs I dont really feel comfortable with being included in other stories are my Drone!Tessa and Cyn Synemy redesign. Fanart absolutely, but I feel uncomfy with them being used in third party medias as seperate entities.

Is your blog 18+?

Uh tough one. I do not draw (and will never draw) nsfw content on this blog. a) Because I do know minors follow me and b) I'm just not… vibing with nsfw lol (esp not with MD).

But generally speaking I do sometimes mention slighty “suggestive” things, but the farthest I go are either punchlines for my shitposts or like… people kissing before marriage. And affectionative biting. lol.

I do post about mental health topics and stuff like trauma, I usually put TWs on these posts so you may block them if you want to (e.g “tw: death, tw: abuse” etc.)

Still, if youre below 18 and wanna soley follow that’s totally gucci, I just ask of you not to DM me if you’re below the age of 21 (asks are fine!)

Are there DNIs?

Im generally chill with most things. Only things that’ll land you on my blocklist immediately are suggestive/nsfw messages, asks or comments or if you send me like really vile shit.

Also please do not sent me asks/DMs with links to other websites, I generally do not trust those.

[shrimpmandan]

Info + Interests | Opinions

Personal, political, fandom, and shitpost blog. Peek at Carrds if you want more insight into my opinions and interests. Or don't. I'm not your dad.

I do not have a DNI. Good faith interaction is always welcome, but I block liberally. Instead, if you’re considering following, here’s some rent-lowering gunshots: you are not going to have a good time here if you dislike or are against the existence of trans people, porn, sex work, problematic fiction, abortions, gross kinks, and paraphilias. Additionally, if the phrases “transandrophobia is real” and “vote blue no matter who” piss you off, you should turn back now. This blog is run by an unabashed tranny sex freak, and my values are set in stone.

Overarching blog CW: I reblog and/or post about gore, body horror, suggestive/nsfwish content, problematic ships (toxic, incest, minor/adult, etc.), discussions of real-world zoophilia/necrophilia/pedophilia, and various kinds of abuse and bigotry (including untagged slurs). I do not tag consistently. This is your only warning.

Posts made before the current year may not reflect my current opinions. In fact, they usually don’t; I used to be a huge anti-SJW. Feel free to shoot me asks about various things. Just don’t be rude and please, PLEASE, use paragraph breaks. Don’t just send me massive unbroken walls of text.

NSFW url is @sadistic-shortie​

AO3 is TheShrimpMan

DM me or send me an ask if you want to know my other socials. I’m active on Discord, Flight Rising, Chickensmoothie, and F-List.

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Proship/Pro-Kink/Pro-Para/Sex Positivity Doc

How You Can Help Palestine

Gaza Funds

Abortion Accessibility

Art Masterpost

Piracy/Emulation Stuff

Media Literacy

Identifying Logical Fallacies

[Miscellaneous images under the cut]

[yourlocal-goodgirl]

So I’m a guy, and I know that society treats me differently than it does women, but I have a pretty bad case of depression and body dysmorphia as well. To the point where once I lost all the weight, I then started abusing steroids. The type of steroids that I was using are notorious for exacerbating pre-existing mental health issues. I was the “fat kid” my whole life growing up and even when I was in my absolute best shape, all I saw was a fat fuck when I looked in the mirror.

It takes a massive amount of work to see through the filter that your brain puts over your eyes, but I swear to you that it’s possible. I’m still very picky with what shirts I wear because of how they fit. I still feel guilt about some of the foods I eat. Some days I will refuse to look at myself naked in the mirror. But most days I’m okay.

I’m so sorry that you struggle with social anxiety and seeing yourself in a positive light. But like the others have stated already, there’s definitely someone out there that finds you attractive.

If you’re interested, I’d be happy to come out of anonymous and discuss it more with you and show you pics of when I was struggling. Idk if it will help, but I felt I should at least offer.

thanks for sharing this. it's obvious that women are treated very poorly based on their weight, body shape, appearance, etc. but people don't often take into consideration the effect that media and body shaming have on men as well. men aren't allowed to talk about it either, they aren't allowed to talk about how they feel about their body or how it's impacting their mental health. it's seen as this horrible thing to ever comment on a woman's body, but comments are constantly made about men's bodies to their faces. body dysmorphia, especially muscle dysmorphia, is more common than you'd think in men but literally nobody talks about it. i swear i'm not being a pick-me lol, my degree is in psychology and i've just seen firsthand what BDD looks like in a man and how hard it can be to try to get help for. it sucks. no person, man or woman, should have to feel bad about themselves because of the way others treat them. you're strong and brave and i'm so glad you've gotten to a place where you feel okay most days! i've healed tremendously from my eating disorder after several years of intensive therapy and being put into an outpatient program for a few months. it was something i genuinely never thought i was going to be able to recover from, but i did. so i'm hoping and praying that the same might be able to happen to me someday with my body image issues. i don't have to love my body or feel confident, i just want to accept it and be okay with it. i don't want to feel disgust when i see myself or hate myself because of the way i look when that's such an insignificant part of who i am as a person. i want to get better, i just don't know how when society is so fucking mean to women like me. idk. that was a long rant i apologize.

you're more than welcome to shoot me a dm if you want to talk more about this. it's something i'm pretty open about so yeah, any time.