#someone dared me to create this masterpiece actually

[billyidolsimp729]

Animan Studio Meme but It’s Melvinborg x Allan because I like cursed ships

(The one in the middle is me >:3) add your oc if you want but please add credits to me first

[lets-try-some-writing]

I have observed several types of fic writers, and so for kicks and giggles, here they all are. Each of them scares me for different reasons.

The Prepared And Ready To Publish™:

Several documents dedicated to worldbuilding, planning, cross referencing, character lists & traits, plot twists, and then the actual fic document.

Dedicated to the max to creating a rich world. Probably knows more about the niche thing than you ever will. 100% could have written a thesis and chose to do fic instead (or did both at the same time).

Created a masterpiece and promptly vanished off the face of creation before coming back in with another banger to crush souls and save fandoms.

Their arrival is akin to the birth of a new era because they never fail to somehow make a niche ship popular, make a headcanon fanon, or otherwise give so much depth and interest to a character or setting that whatever they have devised is largely accepted as gospel by their readers.

They either use a high end writing program or wordpad. There is no in-between.

Mysterious. Very mysterious. Reasons for this mysteriousness vary between fics and authors.

100000/10 would be friends with them if I could. Legendary writers. But also they scare me because ??? What void offered you such power ?????

The Baby Writer:

All vibes and loosely strung plots.

It may not make the most sense, but good gracious the dedication is there.

Notable lack of comprehension when it comes to characters and places, but it's bad form to not leave a kudo because it takes guts to post anything in fandom.

They are still figuring things out and their grammar or formatting (possibly both) is probably a mess, but they've put heart into their work.

Sweetest rays of sunshine who want to be involved and are eager to learn the ropes.

The fandom's young ward or despised new arrival (depends entirely on fandom popularity and age).

8/10 would happily offer advice to them. Just can't read their work for too long without wanting to throw it into grammarly. The fear factor comes in the form of the miraculous misuse of fandom terminology. (Yeah it's tough bud, the fanon is wild. But goodness that term/canon word does NOT mean what you think it does.)

The Smut For Your Soul:

Meticulously plans the smut with all the loving care of a sculptor.

Somehow plot got involved.

Miraculously, they managed to not include an iota of plot and it has somehow managed to work.

Headcanons abound and cuteness and or angst lurks merrily behind every corner.

The tags mean everything and nothing at the same time. They are but faint guides to the fae wilds ahead. Tread lightly.

Has a mountain of unfinished WIPs that will follow them to the grave or emerge ten years after conception to grace whatever fandom spawned the idea.

The fandom thanks them for their service, although often that praise is late or hits like a freight train.

???/10 I personally avoid smut but I have friends who write it so it really depends. Terrifying because you never know who falls into this role of writer. It could be anyone. Normalcy is a mask poorly adorned for the sake of conforming to The Great Machine.

The Angst Lord:

Has a million slightly different ways to hurt their blorbo. Each are somehow more horrifying than the next.

The embodiment of the iceburg videos seen all over the net. Ask one question and you shall unravel and scheme of torment so great you shall regret having dared to speak up.

Has dozens of WIPs or unwritten ideas that they claim they will return to.

They are controlled by passion and emotion and can and will insert their own complicated situation into a fic.

Almost nothing is off limits.

Arrives to the fandom ready to brawl and somehow ends up respected or feared. They often stare in bafflement as they end up unscathed and watch angry comments fly toward the arguably innocent shippers.

Generally some of the nicest people who happen to enjoy inflicting The Horrors upon someone fictional.

'10/10 would befriend and promptly regard like a wild racoon. Offerings of angsty ideas yield delightful commentary. But also I need to prepare myself for anything they say because O U C H my SOUL.

The General Writer:

Fluff, cuteness, possibly a delightful touch of angst and pure unbridled creative simplicity.

They may not have the most brutal or soul wrenching tale, but they always manage to write something that someone, somewhere, desperately needs.

Devastatingly underrated and deserves far more praise for their contributions to the fandom.

Produces some of the softest of scenes and the most touching of interactions between characters in a contained, careful crafted, tale.

Introducing new ships or family dynamics in such a tasteful manner that brain chemistry can easily be altered.

Arrives to the fandom as a lurker and shows their appreciation through their work. Oftentimes, they are very quiet and go unnoticed.

INFINITE/10 Love these writers, honestly a gift to fandom. The sheer level of dedication to producing fluff is astounding and scary all at once.

The OC X Canon:

Has so many ships and headcanons that it's astounding.

The lore development rivals IDW and Lost Light combined. All the kudos to them for putting their souls into their characters.

The dedication is mind boggling.

They put up with so much crap they could be in MMA Wrestling if the verbal assaults translated into physical strength.

Has so many adjustments to lore and whole AUs devoted specifically to creating a perfect world.

Skilled in the extreme (or not) at integrating their ocs into canon.

Arrives to the fandom not intending to make ocs. Leaves with seventeen leashes for their new abominable creations. Is loved or hated by literally everyone, sometimes for no reason.

6/10 perfectly lovely people but very niche in their interest and thus not everyone's cup of tea. Scary because that level of sheer willpower is meant for demi-gods.

There are more types of writers, but these feel like the big overarching ones. Which kind of writer are you? :D

[kingofbodyrolls]

BTS fic recs: my 30th birthday special

Shit. I’m turning 30 today (I still feel like I’m 18 lol) 😯 So I wanted to make this special recommendation list for you, as a birthday present from me 💜 This includes some of my all time favorites (no, I’ll never stop screaming about those!!!!) and also, some good old ones that I’ve never gotten around to rec at the time. 

I also have another birthday present for you (wish is also why I didn’t finish my reading list and why ‘Friendcation’ is on pause until after my birthday). I wrote a short one-shot, so if you’re in the mood for that, check it out → ‘Say that Again (I Dare You)’ [reader x jjk (ft. pjm)].

I actually didn’t get to finish my reading list for this special rec list, so I’ll add the rest of my recommendations as I read them (I’ll specify which I haven’t re-read yet) and the rest will be posted to this month’s regular rec list.

I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell or contains dark themes, so minors dni.❗ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post 💜And if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated 🙂

BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(knj) | Oct (pjm) | Nov (💜) | Dec (ksj)(kth) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻.

Namjoon

⭐All Night by @luaspersona // knj x f.reader // college!au, brother’s best friend!au, s2l // 🥵

📝 When your brother bails on you, you have to find another way to entertain yourself for the night and Kim Namjoon just so happens to be a great company.

🗨️ This was the most perfect, pure masterpiece of fucking gold writing 🤌🏾🥵 it is insanely filthy, so deliciously smutty!! Like I think my soul has left my body 🥵 the writing, story and the characters were brilliant ✨ this is hands down one of my new favorites and I WILL read this again soon, I promise you! Don’t sleep on this sweet bad boy Namjoon, okay 🥵 such an easy recommendation for me to make - do yourself a favor and read it if you haven’t (and if you have, then read it again!) ♥️💯

⭐All Aboard! (the passion express) by @ve1vetyoongi // knj x f.reader // office worker!namjoon // 🥵

📝 There were not many things that got your blood boiling in the same way that two simple words could. Kim Namjoon. The name of your irritating and (unfortunately enough, as the universe would have it) incredibly handsome co-worker. Which is exactly why you never expected to find your self on your knees for him on the train home.

🗨️ Holy fuck, fuck, fuck this was so incredibly filthy (in the best way possible) 🥵 the tension between reader and Namjoon was perfect, the build up was so satisfying 🌟 what’s not to like ✨😍

⭐The Wedding Arrangement by @sugaurora // knj x f.reader // ‘enemies’ to friends to lovers, wedding!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 Unfortunately, he’s just gotten engaged to someone who isn’t you. Even more unfortunately, he expects you to help plan the wedding alongside Kim Namjoon, his other best friend and, based on your first meeting, just another judgmental jerk. Putting aside your distaste for the sake of your friend’s happiness, you both set about giving Seokjin the wedding of his dreams. Following a rough and satisfying affair at the caterer’s, you strike an unusual deal: you and Namjoon will be enemies with benefits until the wedding is over. And after six months of wedding planning, you both just might learn that weddings aren’t usually the end, but a brand new beginning.

🗨️ This was so amazing 🥹 the characters had so much depth and ugh! It was just so, so good. It was a pleasure reading their love unfolding 🥰 aish, I’m soft! It’s filled with plenty of soft, slight heartbreaking angst at times, but oh so fluffy and smutty too! It was perfect 👌🏾 💯 please don’t sleep on this one, okay? 🥹

Yoongi

⭐Roommates by @automnesleaves [AO3] [119K] // myg x f.reader // roommates!au, covid!au, slice of life // 😂🥰🌩️

📝 February 2020: Your best friend Jimin’s roommate recommendation, IT guy Yoongi Min, moves in with you. March 2020: Covid Lockdown.

🗨️ This is really, really good! I remember being so hooked on this, that I stayed up multiple nights to finish chapters. It was hard to put down, and so interesting to read how readers luck slowly turned – also, the dynamic between reader and Yoongi is great and there’s just so much lovely slice of life in it 💜

⭐Three Tangerines [series; ongoing] by @kithtaehyung // myg x f.reader // fuckboy!yoongi, brother’s best friend!au, age gap!au // 🌩️🥵

📝 Throughout high school, you sometimes caught glimpses of your brother’s older friends: some of them were sweet, some of them were smart. but the one closest to him? that guy was a total f*ckboy from day one. after a foray of horrid relationships spanning years - ending with one that broke up with you for an alarming reason - you needed advice on what the hell you were doing wrong… and this wasn’t a conversation for anyone sweet or smart.

🗨️ Yes. This is here again. It is one of my all-time favorites and I will not stop screaming about how fucking good this is! You just have to join the 3tan party or you are severely missing out, Doll. 💖✨

⭐Oh, darling! [series; completed] by @yoongiofmine // myg x f.reader // university!au, non idol au, professor!yoongi, student!reader // 🥰🌩️🥵

📝 Starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you’ve held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought? 

🗨️ Holy fucking shit 🥵��😳 This is just one of my favorites series, EVER 💜 This is in my top 10, no questions! ✨

Hoseok

⭐Fate Doesn’t Exist by @whenIseeUsmile [AO3] [47K] // jhs x myg (mxm) // pilot!au, formula1!au // 😂🌩️

📝 Yoongi is a pilot. Hoseok is a Formula 1 driver. Jungkook's a fanboy and Jimin is oblivious.

Yoongi hates people but likes one-night-stands. One in particular but he doesn't like the fact that he's famous. He really shouldn't get involved with Hoseok. He does it anyways.

🗨️ I’ve read this multiple times! And it will forever be one of my favorites! I just love how their personality compliments each other, and how they keep meeting each other (also can’t stay away from each other). Plus, the side couples, both Jungkook x Jimin and Namjoon x Seokjin are just fucking hilarious – everything about this is golden, so if you’re into mxm it’s a really good read! 👏

⭐Flight 18 by @noona-la-la-la [9.5K] // jhs x f. reader // flight!au, idol!au // 🥵😂

📝 Korean Air Flight 18 leaves daily from Los Angeles traveling to Seoul.  You’ve taken this flight before, but this time you’ve got an irritating passenger in the neighboring seat.  Little did you know that he would end up giving you the ride of your life.

🗨️ This was just really really amazing; utterly funny (like I was laughing at certain points), so much sexual tension that evolves into satisfying smut 😗

Jimin

⭐The Airport Couple: P[ass]anger from Hell + Drabble by @dovechim & @jimlingss [8K] // pjm x f.reader // e2l, frequent traveler jimin x tsa agent reader // 😂😂😂🥰

📝 As a TSA agent, you expect your job to be relatively easy, most passengers these days follow the rules to the T in order to avoid prolonging their custom checks. But not a certain Park Jimin, who seems to have a problem understanding what 100ml is, or the very simple fact that gadgets must be taken out of the bag, and bomb jokes are strictly off limits. Frequent traveller Park Jimin is your nemesis, but darn is he a cute one.

🗨️ This is just so fucking hilarious, don’t get me started. I laughed from beginning to end 😂 And it’s still as good as I remember, if not even better??? Like ✨ I’ve highlighted a few of my favorite parts from the fic. I don’t want to give too much away, but these lines are just so damn hilarious! Please go read it, it’s one of my faves 💯

⭐The Airport Couple: Park Jimin’s Cock[pit] by @jimlingss & @dovechim [12K] // pjm x f.reader // pilot!au, bf2l, coworkers!au // 😂🥰🥵

📝 Talk about Angry Birds, and most people would immediately think of the mobile game app. But within your circle of friends, it stands for something else. It’s synonymous with Park Jimin, one of the most talented pilots from your batch who also just happens to have anger issues, or in other words, air rage. He is your best friend, but when you get teamed up with him as his co-pilot, you can only pray that things don’t go south… literally. 

🗨️ I remember reading this a few years ago, and I loved it then and I still do ✨ It is incredibly funny, has good banter and dialogue to match. The chemistry between reader and Jimin is just priceless, their friendship is just pure giggles 🥹 It’s also fluffy and will tug on your heartstrings in the best way possible. Just really, really good and definitely also one of my all-time favorites 💯💜

⭐Since We Met by @inkjam-moon [9.2K] // pjm x f.reader // roommate!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 Your in love with your roommate, so you think maybe trying to date someone else will help you get over him, but when your roommate shows signs of jealousy, you begin to wonder; could he like you back?

🗨️ I haven’t re-read this yet – but I remember I loved it 💜(I’ll insert my rec here when I have read it again).

⭐Turbulence by @yminie [9.3K] // pjm x f.reader // flight!au // 🥵🥰

📝 On your first flight the cute boy next to you helps to sooth your nerves, and on the second flight he soothes something else.

🗨️ I haven’t re-read this yet – but I remember I loved it 💜(I’ll insert my rec here when I have read it again).

⭐Accelerate by @yminie [8.9K] // pjm x f.reader // flight!au // 🥵🥰

📝 Jimin comes to retrieve his jacket on the condition that you then accompany him for dinner, and you can bet he satiates every hunger.

🗨️ I haven’t re-read this yet – but I remember I loved it 💜(I’ll insert my rec here when I have read it again).

⭐Beneath the Water by @jungshookz // pjm x reader // fantasy!au + mermaid!au // 🌩️🥵🥰😂

📝 His legs were sparkling. You looked up from his face slowly and towards his legs, your head tilting in confusion when you were met with the sight of… well, it certainly wasn’t a pair of legs. What the fuck?

🗨️ This is just perfect; a tiny bit angst, gold certified comedy and fluff (with a sprinkle of smut). There’s also a bullet point drabble of this, so please check that out too (here).

⭐Make Me by @jikookiekosmos // pjm x reader // office!au, boss!jimin/employee!reader + dom/sub themes // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 After a bad breakup, you decide to go out one night and drink your sorrows away - that is, until you see your now ex-boyfriend there with someone clinging to his arm. To get your mind off of things, you go back to your job after hours; what you don’t expect is for your boss and CEO of the company, Park Jimin, to show up and offer you help in ways you didn’t know you needed.

🗨️ It has heavy dom/sub themes (which I’m normally not into, but imma switch for this one!). It is incredibly hot and so, so damn perfect 🥵

⭐Pay Attention by @jikookiekosmos // pjm x reader // office!au, boss!jimin/employee!reader + dom/sub themes // 🥵🥰

📝 You’d mentioned it in passing once before, your fantasy about blowing your boss - and now boyfriend - under his desk during one of his important CEO business meetings. So what happens when you want to turn that fantasy into a reality, and he wants it just as much?

🗨️ This is a sequel to ‘Make Me’ (but can be read as a stand-alone) - and it is just pure dirty smut. The dynamic between reader and Jimin is just so good ✨

Jungkook

⭐The Wedding Planners by @gukyi [28K] // jjk x f.reader // e2l, wedding!au // 😂🥰🌩️🥵

📝 Jeon jungkook is three things: cocky, terrible, and your worst enemy. then your best friend hoseok gets engaged to the love of his life, and suddenly jeon jungkook is four things: cocky, terrible, your worst enemy, and the man you will be spending the next seven months with in order to plan your best friend’s wedding. 

🗨️ I also remember reading this a few years ago and it was just a very funny and pleasant reread 💜 What I love about this is one, is definitely the slow-burn and the enemies to lovers aspect too. The banter between reader and Jungkook is just so priceless and reading how their relationship slowly unfolds and develops through the months of the wedding planning was just everything 💯 Hoseok and Yoongi’s personality in this also makes this fic truly amazing.

⭐Secret Slut (1) by @jeonsweetpea [7.7K] // jjk x f.reader (ft. pjm) // office!au, pa!jungkook x ceo!reader // 😂🌩️🥵

📝 Jungkook accidentally gifts you, his boss, a sex toy for Secret Santa.

🗨️ I remember reading this a few years ago and now I see that there’s even a part two to it, that I haven’t read! This one is really funny, like straight up hilarious – really made me laugh at times and then it got so freaking smutty 🥵 Really good!

⭐Secret Slut (2) by @jeonsweetpea [18.1K] // jjk x f.reader + pjm x f. reader // office!au, pa!jungkook, pa!jimin, ceo!reader // 🌩️🥵

📝 After being fired, Jungkook finds himself a new job only to realize he misses you too much. He comes back to discover you’ve hired a new personal assistant, Jimin. You offer him the only job position available, which was being the assistant’s assistant. Being demoted results in Jungkook feeling inadequate and he soon learns what it means to be jealous.

🗨️ I was so speechless after reading the last part of the series, like 🥵🥵🥵🥵 There’s so much smut in this, you’re like swimming in it, lol! And then something happens, that I won’t spoil because I actually didn’t expect that to happen (even though I should have seen it coming, because the build-up was there). So, a really good read! 

⭐Departure by @nomnomsik [6.2K] // jjk x f.reader (ft. jimin) // pilot!au, coworkers!au // 🥵🥰

📝 As a flight attendant for Korean Air, you’re scheduled for a thirteen-hour flight to Japan. However, things get intimate between you and your partner and co-pilot, Jeon Jungkook, when he realizes Park Jimin, the famous idol from Korea, broads the plane and blatantly flirts with you. 

🗨️ I haven’t re-read this yet – but I remember I loved it 💜(I’ll insert my rec here when I have read it again).

⭐Something Like Love by @iamtaekooked [8.4K] // jjk x f.reader // cop!au, police office!au // 🥰

📝 It was meant to be a regular day at the hospital. That is until you get kidnapped in broad daylight. Meanwhile, the famous detective Jeon Jeongguk who also happens to be your best friend, just wanted a normal day free of world’s bullshit, but he couldn’t even have that.

🗨️ I haven’t re-read this yet – but I remember I loved it 💜(I’ll insert my rec here when I have read it again).

⭐The Forgotten Spaces [completed series] by @oddinary4bts // jjk x reader // college!au, dancer!au + e2l // 🌩️🥵🥰

📝 you’ve been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

🗨️ This is truly a masterpiece! The writing is perfect and the characters have so much soul, dimension, hurt and love. It is exceptional 👏🏾♥️ you just have to read this gem 💎

⭐Two point Five (2.5): pt2 + pt3 [series] by @bratkook // jjk x f.reader // handyman!jk, s2f2l // 🥵🥰

📝 Who would have thought booking a handyman from an app would lead to this. sure, you wish he’d mount you instead of just your television, but you could totally be friends. Right?

🗨️ This is also one of my all time favorites! 💎There is just something incredibly hot about handyman JK 🥵 It is so good, juicy, smutty and there's comedy in it too! Please don’t be sleeping on this one.

Okay, okay, okay. So the list got out of hand! And I know I say “this is in my top 10” but I can’t even pick my top 10 because I have waaaay too many favorites 😂

I hope you have an awesome day, are happy and stay healthy! I’ll go and enjoy my birthday with a chill day, birthday dinner with my family, probably some reading and watching the finale of Loki  🥳 🎂 Thank you so much for liking, commenting or reblogging my rec lists, it means a lot to me – remember to reblog, comment and/or like the fics you like on the list to the the lovely authors know you love their stuff 💜

[aylen-san]

Welcome to my reality. No, not the one where I tower in horror over Middle-earth with the last armies of orcs and a darkness that envelops all life. Today's reality is far more... modern. If someone had told me thousands of years ago that I would one day be in an ordinary apartment with a cup of coffee in hand, surrounded by the blue-white glow of monitors, I would have laughed. But now? Now this is my life.

Morning, as it is: a debrief with coffee Oh, that sweet awakening. The alarm clock rings. My eternal wrath could destroy it, but why? It's all part of the modern routine. I, Sauron, the great lord of evil, now wake up not to an army but to the sound of a smartphone alarm, so I can sit at the kitchen table and pour myself a coffee—strong, black, like my view of the world.

Ah, coffee. Perhaps in the modern era, it's the bitterness that I find appealing. Every morning, it's a ritual: I sit in front of the computer, scrolling through social media and the news. The design here is actually quite inspiring: black screens, white letters. It all feels so office-cold that I involuntarily smile. "News from Mordor" could be a popular blog.

Remote work, same old job: Zoom meetings and evil schemes How times have changed, haven't they? In my past, I led armies in person, standing at the front lines. And now... now I spend most of my day in Zoom meetings. Yes, even the Dark Lord has to deal with modern bureaucracy. Orcs need management, tasks need assigning, KPIs are sacred. Technology has made my dark work more sustainable.

— "Urgash, what’s going on with the weapon shipment? Why don’t we have the third-quarter report on the allocation of eastern lands?" I ask with cold resolve, looking into the camera, only to hear confused muttering in response.

Orcs, of course, can’t handle Google Sheets. But what can you do? Routine.

Office equipment and old habits My workspace is a modern masterpiece. Cold-lit lamps, an ultramodern laptop with a keyboard glowing with a faint, almost infernal light. All this allows me to devise new plans to conquer Middle-earth with high efficiency. Software? Oh, trust me, even a palantír would envy the power of my server.

But some habits remain unchanged. A glance at a smoldering notepad reminds me of runes and ancient spells. I wonder if I could code the way I once cast curses—would I be able to create a virus to take over the entire internet? Then again... no, we’ve seen where that leads. And if the system crashes, I’m not ready to lose my bookmarks.

Lunch breaks: yes, even dark lords need to eat Ah, lunch breaks. They’ve become part of modern Sauron’s life. Don’t think I’ve lost my taste for brutal bloodshed. No, that’s in the past. Now my lunch consists of something more grounded. A cold salad, maybe a couple of sandwiches, and, of course, another cup of coffee. Only the grim taste of dark bread reminds me of the old days.

— “Delivery for Mr. Sauron?” — a knock at the door. Naturally, food delivery. Even cuisine today has become a sort of twisted pleasure. Strange. The once elegant culinary masterpiece—roasted flesh—is now replaced by avocado toast. Though, to be honest, they’re quite good.

Fitness by the call of darkness Of course, physical fitness is as important for a Dark Lord as for any modern mortal. A treadmill awaits me in the bathroom. No, I don’t go outside. Mordor is still a long way from glamorous park trails. Still, if I must exist in this new, modern world, I can at least maintain my strength. Cardio is power, they say. Power? Ha! Let them know power when I’m in full battle form.

After the run—a few minutes on the punching bag. No, I haven’t lost my skills! Even in a world where leaders rule through screens, old methods still work. Deep down, I’m still ready to crush anyone who dares stand in my way.

Evening leisure: shows and dark conspiracies What else to do in the evening, when the office lights dim? Of course, watch shows. Oh, how elegantly modern shows portray power dynamics. My streaming subscriptions are quite diverse: from Game of Thrones to dark detective stories. In these tales, I see myself—though in a much less epic form, it’s still satisfying to watch others make mistakes.

— "Seriously? Did you really think that conspiracy would work?" — I whisper as I watch yet another villain's plan fall apart. Perhaps, if they’d hired me as a consultant...

Reflections before sleep: what went wrong? When night falls and my monitors dim, I sit on the windowsill and look at the sky. No stars, of course—the city lights drown them out. Even in such a world, illusions of power and light don’t add true strength. I ponder how the world might have changed if my plans had worked out sooner. But then I realize that even in this new world, I can still become its lord.

Only now, my army will consist not of orcs but of fans, liking my posts and retweeting each of my new brilliant plans.

End of the day: Darkness will always find a way So, there you have it, a day in the life of Sauron in the modern world. Not so terrifying, you’d say? Oh, but what do you know? Even in this modern world, Darkness will always find its way. And while you think I’ve become but a shadow of the past, remember: I’m always watching you. Through your screens, through your reflection in darkened windows.

And who knows, maybe tomorrow, your alarm will ring just a bit too loudly...

[sebbybooks]

My Sister’s Neighbor  

Part Two

Tagged💌

@bambamwolf87

Sebastian Stan Fanfiction  

 

 

 The shock that rolled through my body was powerful enough to give me a heart attack. It was as though I was in the presence of a ghost, except the figure that stood opposite of me was real. I knew he was coming. I sensed it all afternoon, that was probably why I couldn’t sleep yet another night. There also was the fact that he told me he would be here. Waiting for me.  

I should have ran hours ago. Gotten out of town so far away that he wouldn’t even know where to begin to look. He wouldn’t dare ask my sister about my whereabouts that would only unveil his true guise.  

You would think the night sky would be painted in a sheet of total darkness at this hour. There was a hint of grey light that still hid behind the storm clouds that hovered above. My breath was starting to fog up the damp windows as the two of us made perfect eye contact.

He was a few feet away and I had been wondering how long he stood standing across the street watching. Waiting to make himself known to me. He was drenched from the downpour of rain that happened not too long ago, clearly unfazed by it. His gaze never faltering with mine. He wore a indecipherable look on his face, and that is when all the oxygen left from my lungs.  

We stood like that for I don’t know how long really. Afraid to take a quick glance down at my phone, within an instant he could be elsewhere. My arms and legs were adorned with goosebumps, the cold air from the window kissing my bare skin. If I didn’t know I had someone watching me I sure as hell gave him a show with my sleepwear. I quickly shake away the crazy thought that maybe for a split second I did it on purpose.  

 

THREE DAYS EARLIER 

 

I sat on the edge of the already made bed with my back straight as I stared into nothing. Still massaging a very sore finger. The only bright side was that it didn’t turn purple or swell up.  I replayed those sixty seconds in my head, studying every little detail from our short interaction. I couldn’t tell Dakota what happened. The conversation was almost predictable so I avoided it completely.

Dakota would think that my progress was backtracking and that things were not getting better for me. That it was all in my head like last time. Taking a deep breath. I know this isn’t like before, because I know what I heard. He said my name as clear as day.  

 Walking downstairs I follow the scent of burning cinnamon rolls leading me into the kitchen. Around the wall I see Dakota moving in all sorts of directions trying to tame whatever chaos she unleashed in there. For a second I watch quietly blending in with the wall.

When we were younger Dakota was always the one creating the best meals. She was the chef in the family and even at a young age she came alive when she stood before different ingredients. Dakota made masterpieces. Looking around her kitchen now it was scattered with opened cardboard boxes, dirty dishes, and opened food containers, she was making nothing but a mess.  

 “I tried to make them from scratch, but I think I had the oven up too high. Now my eggs are sticking to the pan and the bacon is turning black after only one minute.” She rushes out finally noticing my presence.  

 I step over to her turning everything off on the oven. “Don’t tell me you lost your Midas touch?” I tease, seeing several discarded pieces of charred bacon in the trash can. 

 Huffing, as she pops a coffee pod in her keurig. “Work has stolen my sparkle.” She sucks in her bottom lip. With my sister I can’t tell if she was being just melodramatic or actually serious.  

 Trying to think of something quick to say, yet also comforting. My eyes dart across the room scanning the area for Angus. That cat likes to roam, but he hates new places. “Kota,” I call out her childhood nickname.  

 She pins me with a halfhearted stare waiting for me to continue on. “You know one thing your job did give you?”  

 “What’s that?” Her brown eyes widening as she listens to me.  

 I furrow my brows. “Credit cards to buy more groceries to replace the ones you fucked up.” I hold both hands up to my mouth as if that would pinch my lips from forming into a wide grin. I am pretty sure I saw her eye twitch. 

 She busies herself with her coffee, shaking her head. “You’re such a little sister.”  

 “You’re welcome.” I reply back, knowing that was the opposite of a compliment. It was quick but I did see her smile.  

“Since I messed up the food lets just go out for breakfast.” Dakota suggest eyeing me over her mug of coffee. I can smell how sweet I bet it taste. A scowl forms on my face cringing at the thought of how sugary it must be.  

 “Or how about I clean this mess up and you can go to the store and we can make something together? Like old times.” I suggest earnestly.

Even though I meant what I said, I wanted an excuse to linger behind at the house by myself. I have every intention on confronting that guy. Bad idea be dammed I was getting to the bottom of it. I had zero to no patience to beat around the bush.  

 Using the bottom of her shirt to clean her eye glasses before putting them on. “If memory serves me correctly Demi, you always watched me cook.”   

I shrug. “I cracked an egg or two.”  

She snorts. “Ok.”  

 “Have you seen Angus?” The question rolls off my tongue. By now he would have found me mad or not. He was like Garfield, the boy liked to eat. 

 “No.” She drawls out her word almost suspicious as I was. “I tried bonding with Satan’s cutie last night and I thought he would bite my chin off!” Dakota recalls on the memory with horror washing over her face.  

 “He has his moments.” I just say. 

 Grabbing her keys off the counter top I take it as the beginning of her exit. “Wait!” I exclaim a little too much, taking her by surprise.  

 “Umm,” I pause collecting my thoughts. “That guy across the street have you spoken to him. . . ever?”  

 She looks at me for a moment like she is trying to read my thoughts before I could spit them out. At first she looks at me confusingly, then her face goes blank, before a shocked expression covers her face. 

 A gasp leaves her mouth. “You totally had a sex dream about him!”  

 I couldn't choke out the word no fast enough. “He came in your dreams last night!” Dakota’s mouth forming an O shape.  

 “I did not dream about him.” I say confidently. That is only because I don’t think I dreamt at all. I barely got any sleep, and I woke up ever so often feeling like I was about to have a panic attack. 

 “Well he came in mine, or rather it was me that came to him.” Dakota pauses to think. 

 I blink at her, not needing to know those personal details. “So not even in passing you’ve never talked? Maybe just for like a few seconds?”  

 She rolls her eyes before looking back at me. “No I have unfortunately never talked to Sebastian.” 

 Sebastian. Almost instantly my brain locks in his name in and file it way. While also scanning to see if I heard anyone mention that name to me. “Then how do you know his name?” I question. 

 

“I heard Josh and Keila from next door out one morning going on and on about how great of a guy Sebastian was. Apparently he’s fixed something in their car that would have costed them an arm and a leg. Sebastian from the sound of it did it for free and he helped that guy a few houses down from me as well.” She explains.  

“He is truly a sexy angel.” Dakota adds, hiking her purse higher up her arm.

Ignoring that last part I continued on. “Do you think your neighbors may have mentioned anything about you to him?” I say trying to keep my voice calm.  

 A hint of worry shadows her face once more. She quickly plays it off by not giving in to it. At least that is what I assume. “I barely talk to them either except a simple hello and goodbye. What’s with all the questions anyway?”  

 I knew I couldn’t brush it off by saying it was from a mere sense of curiosity. I had to give her a convincing answer. “I don’t know call me a sucker for romance, but I think you should talk to him.” I lie, with a smile plastered on my face.  

“Really?” She grins back. Seeing the look on her face I couldn’t keep pretending, so I just quickly nodded my head.  

 “Ok wing woman we need to think of something when I come back from the store!” She says excitably as she downs the last bit of her coffee.  

I raise my arm and hold up a thumbs up.  

 “Clean my kitchen!” Dakota calls out from over her shoulder.  

   

That was all I could do. I cleaned it from top to bottom and even put away some of her stuff she kept away in boxes. I didn’t stop there, deep in thought over Sebastian I began to clean downstairs. Even the way his name sounded in my head made me tremble. I constantly kept finding excuses to go outside to see if he was home yet.  

The store Dakota went too must have been in Norway. She had been gone for about an hour and I was starving. I was on the verge of making myself a peanut butter jelly sandwich when I caught sight of his car pulling in his driveway. 

 I heard the sounds of his garage door loudly opening up. I nearly tripped over my feet racing to the front door. Power walking across the lawn, into the street, then finally behind his car.

An just like that quickly slipping away I could actually feel my bravery shrink. His garage door rolled all the way up, but he didn’t drive forward. It took him a moment to get out of the car. I know he saw me standing behind his car, because he turned the engine off. Sucking in some air I took a deep breath just waiting.  

 Finally opening up his door, stepping out in one fluid motion I instinctively took a few paces back. My stomach twist in a tight knot, and I just about nearly shitted a brick. For a split second I wondered if my therapist would be mortified or proud at my bold attempt at confronting my doubts. 

“Can I help you with something?” Sebastian looks back at me cautiously. 

I narrow my eyes at him almost to say cut the bullshit. I open my mouth to say something as confident as that, but words fail me. My voice fades suddenly unsure with what to say.

 Looking at me like I was fragile and confused about my whereabouts he looks down at me like I would blow away in the wind. “Hey how’s your hand?” I study him for a brief second looking in utter fascination at how he easily fakes a look of genuine concern. His blue eyes were like sirens. An that is when I snapped out of my haze. 

 “How do you know my name?” I blurt out hurriedly. His brow tugs together looking at me like I have lost my sanity.  

 “You said my name yesterday.” I remind him, knowing he can’t deny that.” 

 Letting out a dry laugh. His mouth curving upward as if he was cringing. “No I didn’t.” He states calmly. 

 “You called me Demi. My name is Demi.” Holding a hand to my chest as if to prove it.“Yet I have never seen you or talked to you a day in my life.”  

 Licking his lips, his chest rises and falls. Closing his car door without turning around to do it. Sebastian just looks at me with a disappointed stare. “This is not awkward at all.” He mutters.  

 I just stand there feeling the hot concrete burn the sole of my feet, finally realizing I am not wearing any shoes. Reading my thoughts apparently, he glances down at my bare feet as well.  

 

“The shade polish is Butler Please.” I spit out, drawing his attention away from my damn toes. A beat of silence passes us.  

 “I’m sorry but I have no clue what is going on here.” A dumbfounded expression creases his face.

 I deadpan. “Clearly you know my sister Sebastian.” I don’t realize my blunder till it slips out of my mouth. 

 He tilts his head then crosses his arms across his chest. Probably flexing every muscle in them. I tell myself to focus on his face, despite that it is also making me feel some type of way.  

  “Should I be worried since apparently you know my name?” He sarcastically questions. “And am I suppose to know who your sister is?” 

 “She lives right in front of you.” I say refusing to let this thing die.  

 He looks me up and down,“I am still trying to figure out why does that need to matter to me?" Sebastian answers back like he is bored with this conversation.

Right when I was convinced I just made a complete ass out of myself and was actually coming to terms with the fact that perhaps I made it up in my head. Scared I was about to make a repeat of last time and ruin my fresh start I begin to hear constant meowing.

The sounds of a cat were drawing near. Creeping out of Sebastian's garage walks Angus. He slowly struts his long body over to Sebastian, rubbing himself against his jeans while unleashing the loudest purrs. I look down in astonishment, because I have only seen that cat do that to people he was familiar with.

[lemonhemlock]

Just here to say that I really liked your analysis of Oppenheimer. It is seriously one of the most overrated movies I've ever seen and hated almost every minute of it. Nevertheless, it's apparently forbidden to be critical of the newest Nolan's masterpiece 🙄(f*ck you Academy) because if you dare to say anything negative about the movie, then it must be becauseyou have a short attention span, a low IQ, or you are simply an empty-headed Marvel fanboy. The usual elitist bullshit I hate even more that the movie itself lmao. The Oscars didn't help either (again, f*ck you Academy).

Anyway, it's good to know that someone agrees with me because with all the praise the movie has received recently I was tempted to start questioning my sanity.

Thank you for being a lighthouse of reason in this sea of cringe pretense, anon! It's a glorified Wikipedia entry with collage editing that befits a PowerPoint presentation. Beyond the insulting attempts at characterization (main character included, there's no point in even trying to discuss the few female characters), the horrendous pacing, the awful sound editing, the mediocre cinematography(!), the convoluted plot, the thematic incoherence, I am so tired of filmmakers chickening out of saying anything of substance and passing off their vague explorations as deep artistic exercises or as being "open to interpretation". A text having multiple interpretations is valid and proof of creative richness, of course, but the author has to have a thesis to convey in the first place!

And, certainly, beyond all of that, it excludes the perspective of the actual victims of the bombing to the extent that it shows nothing about them. The Native Americans on whose land these mass-destruction experiments were conducted are also an afterthought. Yet again a movie that prioritizes the heroic* white man in a weak attempt to deconstruct him. In 2023? We needed another movie like this? I can close my eyes and pick a Tom Hanks film at random and it would be the same viewing experience (most likely with better pacing and editing).

*heroic in the sense that he combats adversity through his own powers and qualities; I'm so bored of the milquetoast "critique" of Oppenheimer not being a ~hero because he feels kind of sad on screen for what he's created. miranda_priestly_groundbreaking.gif.

[munson-blurbs]

TUI11

“‘Like, of course I know what love is! I love my music, my uncle, even you guys,” “And then Harris was born, and I was like, ‘holy shit, this is what it means to love someone.’” 🥹💗

“Better than a certain preschool teacher you may or may not be infatuated with?” My mans Jeff, hittin’ him with the hard questions! 👏🏼😂

The guys hyping Harris up at the park. 🥹 Then following his lead as promised. 😭

“But what are you gonna say when he asks about his mom?” JEFFREY.

“The guy practically chased me down the night we met, and now that he got to know me, he doesn’t want to sleep with me? Is my personality that much of a turn-off?” SWEETHEART NO.

“Metalhead, senior year three-peat, alleged Satan-worshiper Eddie Munson?” “Well, the jury’s out on whether I worship Satan or I actually am Satan, but, yep, that’s me.” 🫠

“I felt the same way, even if I didn’t realize it. I think that’s why I asked you to stay, why I held you…I’ve never done that before.” He’s sheepish but not ashamed; if he’s being honest, he’s pretty damn proud of himself for admitting it aloud.  *SCREAMS*

“You and my daddy could have a baby. Because you’re a woman and he’s a man.”

HARRIS MUNSON, YOU SLY DOG!

The idea of the three of you sitting in Benny’s just as you are now, only you’re eating for two, has his stomach in knots. And if he even dares to dream about what getting you pregnant entails? He’s a goner.   DAMN IT BUG, YOU KNOW THIS IS MY WEAKNESS. 😩 (Now I’ll have to pay big money to keep this series going that long. 🤣)

Harris instinctively slips his left into yours. He walks between you and his dad naturally, as though it’s always been this way. Like you all were a little family that made regular outings for pancakes and chicken fingers.🥹

Wayne’s since reported that the boy has asked multiple times about when “Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart will fall in love.” And, of course, he hasn’t stopped talking about your Saturday afternoon diner date, constantly badgering Eddie about whether or not you two were married yet.

Mac Daddy Wayne, we’re onto you. 😏

Your honor, We the people love Harris no matter what and he is a national treasure. His father has done no wrong and we will not stand by and let him believe he has. 🫡

You look down at the drawing of your little chosen family at Benny’s. It’s certainly different from the times you went with Grandma, but you’re filled with the same feeling of belonging that you’d felt then. 😭😭😭😭😭

BUUUUUUG! How does this series just keep getting better!?! HOW?!? I’m ao freakin’ obsessed and now I’m sad I’ve already read through it… I tried to take my time!!! 😂 A ✨MASTERPIECE✨ as always. Love you and this lil’ fam you’ve created. 🥹💚

Return of the Mac Daddy Wayne hehehe this man knows what he's doing and totally doesn't wingman in chapter 12

Leave it to kids to tell it exactly like it is. Harris just wants a baby sibling and will do what he needs to do to make that happen.

And does TUI Eddie have a breeding kink? Idk, maybe we'll see in future blurbs...

Thank you for following along with their chaotic adventures 💚

[mikavlcs]

TARA! Enough now. Leave Sam alone. She was in a bad place and needed someone. She trusted Richie, it's not her fault that he turned out to be a vile loser pathetic excuse of a man fucker. I'm sure Sam feels guilty enough already. I do NOT appreciate any Sam slander. If you keep this up, I WILL fight your tiny ass. (I'm not much taller but I'll protect Sam)

Tara, I mean it. Stop avoiding and ignoring Sam and act like an adult. I got my eyes on you girlie.

A movie night without popcorn is not acceptable. Sam getting some specifically for R is so adorable. I love her so much. Though it IS quite a daring and dumb idea to go alone and leave the other two at home... The call is such a great idea. We love a smart and caring lady.

SAM NO! NOT HER PLEASE. Bitch Tara you can't just sacrifice Sam like that!! Come on now. I gasped out loud when she shut the door. Poor Sam, Tara can be so cruel. I swear to you Tara, if anything happens to Sam I will come for you.

Great. Now Richie can easily disarm the alarm. Well done Tara. That's what you get for leaving Sam. Karma is a bitch.

If only Tara would give a tiny bit of her concern for R to Sam... (I don't even know at what point this turned into me simping for Sam. It started with absolutely loving Tara and R... oopsie)

You go Tara, beat that fucker to a pulp. What a true girlboss!

Hell yes R! Stab him to pieces and save your grumpy grudeg holding girl.

Lol, of course Tara enjoys the sight of R stabbing someone. That girl really is deranged, I love it!

"Equilibrium" another Google worthy word. English course with Mika. I can get behind that!

Oh Richie boy you're in trouble. Hurting R was your biggest mistake. Tsrs well obliterate your stinky ass now.

Lol Richie head soup. Dinner is served. But damn, if he is missing an eye Tara really went all out, didn't she? Love that for her.

Now that is poetic. Tara loves blood. The taste, the feeling and smell. Yet when it comes from the person she loves, she absolutely despises it.

Sam baby girl you're okay! Thank God.

AWW! Sam is willing to take the fall for Tara. My heart can't take it, she is so sweet and cute and hot and protective. I love Sam so much. She's the best. With your stories I always stray with my affection from the intended person to someone else. In your Wednesday stories it's my true love Thing and here it's Sam. But it's so easy to fall for a different character because your writing is just so gripping and wonderful!

"Plus, Tara would never lie to you" oh honey if only you knew... poor innocent R.

Tara come on now. Yes, you protected R and we all love you for it but let Sam protect you now. She's back and she loves you.

Sonic the Hedgehog music... Darling I'm not judging. If that music helped you create this masterpiece, then go ahead and listen to all the weird music you want! 😉

To no one's surprise, this was fantastic. I especially loved the tension. It felt so raw and real. And obviously Sam. She's the best. Well done, friend!

ok part 2 🙏

this whole message is so sam-oriented omg. a blessing 🥰

TARA! Enough now. Leave Sam alone. She was in a bad place and needed someone. She trusted Richie, it's not her fault that he turned out to be a vile loser pathetic excuse of a man fucker. I'm sure Sam feels guilty enough already. I do NOT appreciate any Sam slander. If you keep this up, I WILL fight your tiny ass. (I'm not much taller but I'll protect Sam)

me while writing the story LMAO

If only Tara would give a tiny bit of her concern for R to Sam... (I don't even know at what point this turned into me simping for Sam. It started with absolutely loving Tara and R... oopsie)

PLS this happened to me while watching the actual movies. showed up for tara and ended up leaving with sam taking up 90% of my thoughts afterward

"Equilibrium" another Google worthy word. English course with Mika. I can get behind that!

always happy to expand your english vocabulary 😌

Lol Richie head soup. Dinner is served. But damn, if he is missing an eye Tara really went all out, didn't she? Love that for her.

Now that is poetic. Tara loves blood. The taste, the feeling and smell. Yet when it comes from the person she loves, she absolutely despises it.

not the head soup 😭😭 but yes, she obliterated him<3 she made good on her promise!

and yeah, i liked the idea of that. it was something i added after i finished the initial story because, though my version of tara is pretty...psychopath adjacent, i wanted her to be pretty deeply affected by what happened and the fact that it's (kinda) her fault

AWW! Sam is willing to take the fall for Tara. My heart can't take it, she is so sweet and cute and hot and protective. I love Sam so much. She's the best. With your stories I always stray with my affection from the intended person to someone else. In your Wednesday stories it's my true love Thing and here it's Sam. But it's so easy to fall for a different character because your writing is just so gripping and wonderful!

please same. sam and her martyr complex are just so<333 and the way she kills people. she's just 10/10, y'know? and me making the side characters more lovable than the main characters in my stories is so funny omg 😭

Sonic the Hedgehog music... Darling I'm not judging. If that music helped you create this masterpiece, then go ahead and listen to all the weird music you want! 😉

LMAOOO i was slowly losing my sanity and it shows! sonic music slaps tho ngl

To no one's surprise, this was fantastic. I especially loved the tension. It felt so raw and real. And obviously Sam. She's the best. Well done, friend!

thank you so much pls, i'm just 💞💗💖💘

waking up to your messages and comments after i post a story is like a dopamine rush! thank you for reading and taking the time to type out your reactions (especially for long ones like this), they were entertaining as always 🙏‼️

[sciencestyled]

The Alchemy of Snark: Why Chemistry Should Get Credit for Every Art Masterpiece Ever Painted (You’re Welcome, Da Vinci)

Ladies and gentlemen, or as I like to call you, the hapless human equivalent of paint-by-numbers kits, gather around for today’s lesson. Now, don’t all rush at once; I’d hate to have to explain this more than the five times you’ll already make me. We’re diving into the marvelous world of color—a topic more complex than your collective understanding of how to use a washing machine, yet somehow still accessible to anyone who’s ever Googled "what color is chartreuse?" Ah yes, the alchemy of color, where the only thing more vibrant than the pigments themselves is your willful ignorance of how they came to be.

You see, back in the day—by which I mean the days when people thought bathing was optional and alchemy was an actual career path—color was a lot more than just an item on a Pantone chart. Before the world was graced with the lazy luxury of digital color palettes, alchemists were out there, literally grinding rocks, plants, and God knows what else to create pigments that would make even your neon highlighters look duller than the average TikTok dance trend. Imagine, if you will, a world where the only way to get that perfect shade of red was to squish a mountain of bugs. That’s right, carmine pigment? You can thank a bunch of squished cochineal insects for that. You’re welcome.

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, which I realize is asking a lot. Let’s start with the basics. No, I don’t mean the basics of color theory—though I’m sure half of you still think purple is a primary color. I mean the basics of how alchemy, that delightful precursor to modern chemistry, became the ultimate wingman to artists throughout history. When they weren’t busy trying to turn lead into gold—a pursuit I’m sure resonates with your attempts to turn laziness into academic success—alchemists were concocting the very pigments that would go on to color our world, quite literally. Yes, alchemists, the OG chemists, were the unsung heroes behind every famous painting you’ve ever pretended to appreciate.

Take, for example, the making of ultramarine, a color so intense and rare that even today, it would cost more than what you probably make in a year working as an unpaid intern at your cousin’s startup. Ultramarine was the love child of lapis lazuli and endless hours of grinding, a process that was about as tedious as explaining the plot of "Inception" to someone who still doesn’t get the ending of "Titanic." But the payoff? Oh, the payoff was glorious. Artists used ultramarine to color everything from the robes of the Virgin Mary to the sky in countless Renaissance masterpieces. And guess what? It wasn’t even just about the art. The creation of ultramarine actually pushed forward scientific understanding. That’s right, your boy da Vinci wasn’t just a painter—he was an early adopter of experimental chemistry. I’d tell you more, but I wouldn’t want to strain your attention span. You’ll have to trust me when I say it’s the art world’s version of a Marvel post-credits scene.

Fast forward to the modern era, where science and art have decided to swipe right on each other in a big way. You might think synthetic pigments and materials are just for boring things like safety gear and iPhone cases, but no, my dear students, they’ve infiltrated the art world too. Contemporary artists have more colors at their disposal than there are excuses in your average email to a professor about why an assignment is late. From neon acrylics to glow-in-the-dark paints, chemistry is making art pop like never before. And let’s not forget those daring souls who use actual chemicals as art. Ever heard of Anish Kapoor and Vantablack? Of course, you haven’t. Kapoor’s exclusive use of this blacker-than-black pigment caused more drama in the art world than the final season of "Game of Thrones" did in pop culture. Chemistry, my friends, is the puppet master pulling the strings behind every modern art scandal worth talking about.

But let’s not just limit this to artists who actually know what they’re doing. Science education with art is where things get interesting—by which I mean it’s where you get to learn something without me having to dumb it down to the level of an Instagram infographic. The chemistry of color is more than just a subject for niche documentaries on PBS. It’s a gateway drug to actual science education, which, let’s face it, you desperately need. Teaching students about the pigments that bring art to life is a surefire way to make them accidentally learn something useful, like the fact that chemistry isn’t just about blowing things up in a lab. It’s also about understanding why Vincent van Gogh’s paintings still look fabulous today, even though he was as chemically imbalanced as the cocktails at your last frat party.

In conclusion—which is a word I’m using here because I know you’ve been trained to expect it at the end of an essay—chemistry and art are like peanut butter and jelly, but for people with taste. The next time you walk past a piece of art and think, "Wow, those colors really pop!" remember that somewhere, some poor alchemist was probably inhaling toxic fumes to make that possible. And you thought your part-time job was bad. Chemistry has been the secret sauce behind art for centuries, and its influence shows no signs of slowing down. So next time you’re tasked with learning about the "boring" parts of science, just remember: without chemistry, your favorite meme wouldn’t even exist in color. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go remind myself why I ever thought teaching you lot was a good idea in the first place.

[madraleen]

Bungo Stray Dogs - Season 4 An Excitable Commentary

-omg?? tell me it's the fukuzawa-ranpo backstory, tell me it is so!!

-young oda??? my heart.

-why does ranpo's "help me, mister bodyguard" remind me of anya forger, lol

-HELLO hiro shimono, didn't expect to hear you, always the greatest pleasure

-ranpo is adorable. the world is all babies that he has to protect, tsk. adorable

-fukuzawa LITERALLY created the agency FOR ranpo, for his talent and his protection, literally his shield, i cannot. i love their story.

-everything is getting richer and richer as the story progresses. everything and everyone takes on so much more meaning.

-the bsd op and ending songs never disappoint. they all have something so nostalgic and heartfelt and dynamic in them, idk. they're like a tight tight hug that warms you and breaks you

-THE RATS FRAMED KUNIKIDA?! THAT'S SO UNFAIR!! KUNIKIDA OF ALL PEOPLE!

-i don't know when this turned into a ranpo-poe comedy act, but i love it

-THE ENDING ANIMATION, A MASTERPIECE, A MINI STORY

-hiroshi kamiya is a phenomenal va. i've followed him in quite a few roles now and just. he's. just. he is That Guy, you know?

- i really like nikolai's design???

-i really like this cast. the more i get to know them, the happier they make me

-the op song is so good. every time i sing along with that "monogatari no saki e," i feel connected to every person that's ever done the same, it's so cool

-we lost dazai AGAIN? ffs, we always lose dazai. from a practical point of view, of course, if dazai were here, it wouldn't matter that ranpo stormed off because we'd still have a second genius on the second team. BUT STILL

-gee, i can't, i love dazai's voice so much

-ranpo has lots of guts for someone who's basically defenseless. i worry.

-yes, talk to me about jester nikolai and demon fyodor, finally more info

-i hate this, BUNGO STRAY DOGS KEEPS DOING THIS, IT LURES US INTO UNGUARDED WHIMSY AND FUN AND LIGHTNESS, AND THEN FLIPS A SWITCH AND EVERYTHING GETS SAD AND DARK AND YOU'RE COMPLETELY UNPREPARED EVEN THOUGH YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER DAMMIT

-i really want to see how they'll pull off this plotline, this is an avengers-level reality-altering memory-tampering threat

-I thought that voice was familiar. yuki kaji, we meet again. is everyone from aot in bsd

-yuki kaji, man. another phenomenal va. i've seen him in a few different roles by now, and he just. he's so good. so versatile.

-is it just me being enchanted or is bsd actually really well-made animation-wise?

-CHUUYA MY MAN! TO THE RESCUE! and doing it in style! why am i tearing up

-eyyy, atsushi is using his brain well!

-they've really split up the teams in a way that they're at their weakest. no one has ranpo or dazai, so no genius intelligence, dazai and ranpo don't have anyone, so no defense, atsushi and kyoka don't have a mentor, and the port mafia trio are all basically supports. very interesting

-WHEEE GROUP LIFE COUNSELING WITH DAZAI AND FYODORRR (this anime is making me derangedddd)

-mamoru miyano's performance as dazai is inspired, i cannot

-who does the port mafia want though? dazai is too volatile. ranpo, they don't really need a genius. atsushi would clash with them at every turn. they could use tanizaki though, and i think he'd be the most okay at doing it, to protect naomi and such

-what a mindfuck

-dude, 11-year-old yosano's life is torture. that whole situation is torture, for everyone

-STOP HURTING KENJI-KUN!

-WHY ARE WE STABBING PORT MAFIA PEOPLE, THEY'RE NOT DISPENSABLE, STOP! surely tachihara and gin are fine??

-WHAT! TACHIHARA IS A SPY AND THE FIFTH HUNTING DOG?! IN OUR PORT MAFIA?! HOW DARE! HOW FUCKING DARE. yes i understand the perception right now is that the agency are terrorists and the hunting dogs aren't unjustified, BUT WE KNOW THE TRUTH SO I AM ALLOWED TO RAGE, OKAY?!

-do you ever just want to squeeze their lil chibi faces (re: the end titles)

-thank you for the acupuncture point sequel, that was a much needed comic relief, i laughed

-THEY'RE WALKING AROUND WITH STOLEN MONEY AND ERASING THE EVIDENCE, ANOTHER GEM

-dude wait, everything's paying off so nicely and coming around full circle, the metal guy and his brother from yosano's past, the writer friend's memory helping them escape, the plot is so much tighter and connected this season

-oi, ango is an ability user??

-ANGO THANK YOU

-and the Explanations For Dummies, thank you s4, thank you :')

-SURELY fyodor won't figure out dazai's communication method? surely he… *sigh*

-aha, "lol, controlling his heart rate, a classic dazai-kun party trick." y'know. the usual.

-THERE'S SOMEONE ABOVE FYODOR?!

-oh come on, it'll be us using the back of the page, right? RIGHT?!

-oh. oh no. will the arc not be resolved this season??? will it end on a cliffhanger?? i'm scared

-for a main character in an ensemble, atsushi holds his own even in this huge cast of wacky and/or charming people

-here's the thing, i really like fyodor's voice, dammit. and i like sigma.

-the hunting dogs could be heroes in their own damn story, but here i'm like I'M GONNA SLAP YOU SO HARD! but it's NOT their fault that they're the antagonists -.-

-oh. i was like, "that's a good plan, atsushi! a little gambly, but it's smart!" and then he goes "that's dazai-san's plan." yes. of course. why wouldn't it be mr heart rate's plan

-sigma basically: "i've only had this casino for eight days, but if anything happened to it, i would kill everyone in this room and then myself."

-okay, sigma gave in a little too fast to ango, but who cares

-OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE, NATHANIEL?! JUST LET US CATCH A BREAK, FYODOR, FFS

-lmfao, this outcome is the exact opposite of dazai-san's plan, nice

-okay, but. dazai has communication with ango so he gets feedback, he's in the know about what's happening outside. is someone feeding fyodor information too, or are you saying he's taken ALL of this into his calculations? surely not? surely someone's communicating with him as he's communicating with them?

-you can see dazai's mind working in light speed with every word fyodor says, heh

-mindfuck

-"you and i are powerless in the face of their intense spirits," dazai i love you

-TACHIHARAAAAA, YOU'RE PORT MAFIA, MY MAN, YOU'RE ONE OF US, TACHIHARAAAAA

-lmfao so nikolai IS alive, okay

-TO BE CONTINUED AHHHHHH

-omfg i'm gonna miss them so muchhh :"))) YES i'll start s5 in a couple of days, but that's not the point! i'll miss s4!!! everything that took place, every interaction, all of it! WHAT A RIDE!

[faith-in-democracy]

The Magnificent Art of Criticizing Absolutely Everything

Welcome, dear readers, to a world where no one is safe from criticism. Yes, today we shall delve into the fantastic world of criticizing absolutely everything – because nothing brings people together quite like pointing out flaws and nitpicking at the tiniest details. Let's start with the universally acclaimed masterpiece, criticism itself. What an ingenious invention! With criticism, we no longer have to appreciate or enjoy anything. We can simply tear it apart, finding fault in every line, brushstroke, or melody. Who needs joy and positivity when we have a seemingly endless supply of snide comments? Shouldn't a song remind you of the tragic demise of your pet goldfish? Isn't a book better when you spend more time critiquing the author's word choices than actually reading the plot? And don't even get me started on those artistically-inclined individuals who have the audacity to create something without considering our expert opinions. How dare they! The beauty of criticism lies in its unfailing ability to crush the dreams of those who dare to be imaginative or unique. It's truly awe-inspiring to witness the transformative power of a few well-placed sarcastic remarks. Who needs encouragement or constructive advice when we can simply belittle someone's hard work? Let's not forget the joy of criticizing the weather. Rain, snow, sunshine – they all deserve to be scrutinized. The weather should always match our exact preferences, and if it doesn't, well, we'll be sure to let everyone know that our day has been ruined by a few raindrops or a slight breeze. So, dear readers, let us bask in the glory of criticism and its ability to bring people together in a united front of negativity. Let us never shy away from expressing our expert opinions on every movie, meal, or fashion choice we encounter. Let us revel in the art of nitpicking and always remember that there is nothing more satisfying than tearing apart the hard work and passion of others. After all, who needs to create when we can criticize?

[internetanomaly]

September 8th, Day 4/365

Counting down to September 5th 2024.

Two days back – on this blog, I talked about how I've been defining myself by my interests and the media I consume, but weirdly, I haven't actually shared what I'm into. That was pretty much why I started writing the Day 2 entry, but I got clearly sidetracked by other thoughts.

I want to say that I've taken up this digital niche because I lack someone in the real world to talk to about what I enjoy, but that's not true really. There are people, friends in my life who'd gladly listen to me babble about my newfound favorite song. But even though I've been reassured about this before, there's always this nagging fear that they're just listening to me out of pity. I believe enjoyment is personal, and even if someone likes the same stuff as me, even when our interests align, the way they experience it will always be different from mine.

A great example of a personal experience of mine would be the videogame 'Disco Elysium.' I introduced it to a friend, knowing they'd connect with the main character, and so they did. Yet, every time we talk about the game, it's clear that we took pleasure in completely different aspects. The way we decide to elaborate on the messaging and development of the story is vastly different, and it couldn't be any other way.

This will sound like some spiritual, new-age mumbo jumbo, but what i'm really trying to say is that the vibes and sensations we created and experienced during the game are fundamentally different and they never had a chance to be the same. The same movie viewed through someone else's eyes becomes an entirely different experience. By existing in a context our experiences are necessarily subjective and tainted. In this context empathy is limited, it is fundamentally impossible to find someone who truly enjoys something for the same reasons you do. Isn't that sad?

I think this is why I'm so reticent about the things I enjoy with those close to me. Words often fall short in conveying emotion, and the moment you try to explain or show something, the essence inevitably gets diluted.

A few days ago I've started watching 'Dekalog' (1989) by Kiéslowski. It's got quite the reputation for its depth and profound thematic exploration, but if I may voice my skepticism, I'm not entirely sold on the hype. I already spilled my guts in a few Letterboxd reviews, so I won't go into detail here. Overall, I just feel that the stories are surprisingly surface level for how universally acclaimed this is. Maybe that's the very reason it brings enjoyment to so many – there's not much deep thinking required but it's great at hinting at a deepness and nuance that is just not there. This way people can still feel the rush of philosophy without having to put any effort in; Kiéslowski serves his messages up clear and loud, leaving the viewer with the single responsibility of getting exposed to it. I truly do feel like I'm being too harsh with this series of films but my expectations were too high to justify what I saw.

On the polar opposite end of the spectrum, Matsumoto's 'Funeral Parade of Roses' (1969) completely blew me off. I went into it blind and I was so completely took by surprise right at the beginning – when *spoiler* Eddie's shower scene showed that she didn't have breasts I audibly gasped out loud; I literally had an involuntary physical reaction to an image on my laptop screen, I cannot stress enough how impressive that is. From that moment I was completely hooked, I knew this film was going to be a journey of self-exploration for me and it unequivocally delivered. Maybe it's not for everyone, but I would dare to say that it's a masterpiece. Apart from all the technical praise I could give it, what truly stuck with me is that it just made me feel seen. I guess that's simple enough, but it really means a lot to me. Maybe that's why people enjoyed 'Dekalog' too, there's a lot of family themes that I'm sure resonate with people. Once again: by existing in a context our experiences are necessarily subjective and tainted, my empathy is also limited so who am I to judge? What's probably happening is that I just don't get it, I'm certain there has to be beauty in the simplicity of it, I'm just not the person it speaks to.

[fang-wolfsbane]

Ships have opinions

You know what really ticks me off these days? Shipping has been something that's been happening for years, and believe it or not, there used to be a time when people respected each other's ships, even if they didn't approve. It was called 'respecting the opinion of others' but these days, does that exist? No, it doesn't.

Everyone's so convinced that what they ship is right and that there's no alternative. Sure, the show/book/whatever the heck you wanna use as a reference might have said 'these two characters are together and that's that'. That's perfectly fine, but there are bound to be people who think that one of the characters (if not both) might be better off with someone else, and you know what? That's okay!

Shipping was created so that people could have their own opinions on characters they like. Whether you agree with said person or not, doesn't matter. Just how you have your opinion on who should be with who, so do they.

Guess what sweetheart, your opinion doesn't matter more than the person next to you. In fact, just because you attack someone for choosing a ship different than yours, your opinion matters less. Yes, I said it, your opinion matters not at all anymore, simply because you chose to attack someone who dared to think differently than you.

I get it, I really do, we all have our favourite ships, I mean who in this day and age doesn't? But it disgusts me to the core when someone gets attacked for shipping a fictional character! I hate to point it out to you people, but they are fictional characters! None of them are actual living human beings.

Do you know what that means? It means that their ages can be altered to suit whatever universe. Their personalities can be altered. They can be basically anything and be with anyone. Just because someone decided to try something other than your perfect masterpiece does not give you the right to be a total ass about it.

If you don't like the ship or think that the content is 'inappropriate', how about you actually get off your ass and ask the person who posted it if the character's age might have been altered, or why they support a ship different to yours. Don't just go attacking them because you think your opinion is better.

It's not.

This isn't a George Orwell novel, and if it was, you're no better than a pig in that regard. Though considering how low you'd go to simply attack someone based on them having a different opinion than them, comparing you to shit would be insulting the shit, because even a pile of dung matters more than your opinion if you wanna stoop that low.

[burnedbyshoto]

good little omega

— He was an alpha, you were an omega. Can I make it anymore obvious? He was a crime boss and you were a movie star. What more can I say? Oh, he wanted you, really wanted you, but you swore you would never, ever need an alpha.

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pairing: alpha!shigaraki tomura x omega fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, abo/omegaverse, chad alpha!shiggy, virgin celeb!reader, kidnapping, drugging, sex slave auction, biting/marking, belly bulge, knotting, sex toys, heat, implied murder (lol rip shigsters last omegas), mind break, breeding, degradation, finger fucking, fucking in front of a crowd, modern world!au

word count: 6,174

a/n: this goes out to my shiggy stans. I never understood you until recently and now I blush like a schoolgirl when I see him. mondays are so busy, are they not? ive been home for 6 hours today wtf????

kinktober day 12 main kink: abo/omegaverse | kinktober masterlist

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You sat before the mirror, your eyes intently staring at your reflection. The people around you running around, chaotically bringing brushes and pencils to your face, the smell of chemicals in the air, tickling your overly sensitive nose. 

“Are we ready?! Is Y/n ready?! I don’t think she’s ready?! We need to be out of here in five minutes, people, let’s hurry it up!”

Breaking your gaze from your reflection onto your agent in the background, you sighed softly at the growing sour and distressed omega pheromones. Oh, you realized suddenly, your nose unable to keep from scrunching at the mildewy detergent scent, they were really stressed out.

Today was the night of the biggest award show one could attend as a movie star celebrity in Japan. The Motion Picture Awards gave only the most prestigious and prodigious actors and actresses their due. A night of fashion, alcohol, and nervous pheromone pumping alphas and betas in a single room to reveal who was the best this year. Working in an industry such as your own, you had become quite the living legend already at the mere age of twenty-two.

As an omega, you grew up in a society that banned you from enlisting or attempting to join the ranks of the best in just about every field of focus or study. So that even included the area of acting. Casting Directors had always said the same thing each and every time you were forced to present your secondary gender to them all when being called back for auditions.

‘Omegas can’t be movie stars, your heats are too often and too long, they cause rifts in filming schedules this project cannot afford.’

‘We have too many prime alphas on set. Our film's projected main character is an alpha, we wouldn’t want to be caught up in a lawsuit should she find you to be too… fertile.’

‘Omegas can only be good, suitable nurtures and well, mothers. This movie just seems a bit too intense for a little omega like you!’

Omegas can’t do this, omegas can’t do that. Alphas, the pride of society, couldn’t be made to hold themselves back to your alluring scent and occasional heats. Betas, the majority of the population, didn’t feel a challenge when working alongside omegas. Omegas? Well, if there were any that actually existed within the film industry, they were for sure never heard from, or seen of.

At the age of eighteen, you had nearly given up on your long aspiring desire to become the first omega actor or actress to ever grace the scene. But just as you were ready to tell your agent that you were tired of all of the same, repetitive bullshit, a gentle alpha had approached you with an exciting role in mind for you.

Movies and cinematic films had always showcased omegas as sweet, nurturing individuals. For the most part, you agreed that that’s how you omegas were. You enjoyed hugging your close friends, scenting them softly as means of a small pack you had created as none of you were mated this young, yet didn’t ever wish to be bothered by self-righteous alphas or betas. Through many, many biology courses revolving around your secondary gender, you knew that the hormones that made you an omega also affected the brain to accept and view things in a… softer light. But unlike what they taught in school, and unlike what the alphas in society knew about omegas as they could never honestly watch an omega in heat while alone, was that omegas weren’t always the most nurturing or kind.

The week before your heat, the week of, and the week following your heat, you were always irritable, angry, almost cold. You’d flash your small fangs at anyone who dared to approach you with a scent you hated, your heat room never once escaping with everything torn to shreds, and you definitely did not wish to seek any fiber of soft love.

So when the alpha male sat in front of you, a single fang poking out of his lip as he exposed his neck in a motion of vulnerability and conceding to you — the omega — you knew he was serious.

He explained to you his plan on creating a more realistic movie surrounding the brutal truths of what being a single omega was like. Films had, after all, had always depicted omegas as being mated the moment they presented and going as far as saying that there were others means to be coupled to other alphas without actually being marked. It was atrociously wrong of the omega lifestyle, and it always made your stomach curl to see that it was an alpha or a beta actor putting on the role.

But he wanted to focus on the realities. The anger, sadness, and horrors you could face as a single, unmated omega. The director raved that you were the face for that movie and had a soul that made him come seek you out. And without so much as consultation from your agent, you agreed on the spot.

The title of the film had been an ironic one. Good Little Omega was what it was called in the end.

All in all, the movie had done poorly in the eyes of the critics. Many individuals — namely alphas and betas — claimed that the depiction of omegas within the film had been horribly wrong. Omegas were never sad, never homeless, never abandoned by society! That’s what they had all cried the moment the trailer flashed with bright letters:

AND INTRODUCING: Y/L/N Y/N (Ω)

Still, the movie made billions as many went to watch it because they ‘needed to see how horrible the movie was.’ They wanted proof that omegas weren’t cut as movie stars because how could someone who was out of commission for a week every two months be proactive on set. But all they got was a cinematic masterpiece.

You had taken a claim in the industry, one while small, that hadn’t hurt that much because you were much more focused on the fact that you now were a household name. Well, that is until you were nominated for the awards ceremony you were currently about to attend, only that it was the one from four years ago.

You were the first omega actress and now the first omega nominee. You hadn’t won, but that had solidified the step you had in the door. After that, the interests to hire you in omega roles came pouring through the door.

But you were brought back to reality when the setting spray splashed against your face, your eyes fluttering when they covered your scent glands with the flesh-colored band-aids they got for you. Alphas could never complain about you being a distraction if you smelled the same as betas. 

Rising to your feet, you smiled graciously to your makeup and styling team, thanking them profusely as your agent placed her hand at the small of your back and began pushing you towards the exit.

“Goodluck!”

“Thank you!”

.

..

.

Shigaraki glared down the table of averted eyes, and his hands brought up under his chin twitched at his annoyance.

“Are you going to say anything, or are we going to remain silent?” he asked, his voice quiet yet heavy in all of their ears as they flinched. “Don’t think you’re going to get away without giving me an answer.”

The sour smell of fearful alphas should have corroded Shigaraki’s nose. It should have done something to unsettle the way that the young head sat on his black leather seat. But as a matter of fact, the young alpha had to resist the way he wanted to bare his teeth in a bloodied smile, his red eyes slit in his cruel lust for fear.

“O-Of course not, a-alpha!” croaked one of the smaller alphas down the table. Shigaraki snapped his eyes towards the yellow-haired croony, his neck exposed for the alpha, eyes refusing to look at his leader. “I-It’s just that, um, I — I mean, we don't know w-what happened to your mate!”

“I thought I gave clear and distinct instructions that you were supposed to have found them by this meeting,” Shigaraki stated, his voice somehow growing colder, meaner yet never once changing as his hands dropped from his chin to rest on the arms of his chair. He tilted his head, watching the pathetic alphas quiver like some scared, stupid omega. “Useless. Get out of here before I change my mind on killing you all where you sit.”

The crowd of alphas left quicker than Shigaraki could blink, leaving behind the reeking smell of scared alpha pheromones. 

“Tomura-kun, you killed your mate,” came the singsong giggle from behind him, and Shigaraki didn’t bother turning around, his nose and ears sharp enough to pick up exactly it was behind him. 

“They’re all a bunch of pissy lackeys,” Shigaraki simply stated, his eyes rolling as he slowly fell to the back of his chair, red eyes meeting golden ones that shone with mirth and joy. “What do you want, Toga?”

Toga leaned against the leather armrest, uncaring that Shigaraki hated his personal space invaded. The young female was an alpha, much like most of the people within this gang group, but unlike the others, she had a distinct, almost terrifying way to change the way she smelled. She could smell like anyone or any secondary gender. She often preferred to smell like an omega too. 

“We have a guest visiting us today!” Toga chirped, her fingers clasping together. “I wanted to introduce him!”

“Bring Giran in,” Shigaraki snapped, his eyes narrowing with no real malice for the alpha next to him who simply pouted at the surprise — not a surprise — being ruined. Giran reeked of cigarettes and cheap body sprays that, when wafted with his distinct omega pheromones, made Shigaraki want to throw up. “Hurry up.”

“UGH!”

Shigaraki’s mouth was set in a firm line, his eyes watching as one of his most trusted allies walked to the table, and taking a seat in the abandoned chairs as Toga purred in happiness, sitting on the armchair of Giran’s chair, arms enveloping him. 

“Shigaraki, how are you doing?” Giran smiled, the cigarette that seemed to take a permanent residence in his teeth moving with his words. “I came bearing some great news.”

“What do you have for me?” Shigaraki simply states, his eyes focusing on the letter that is unpocketed from Giran’s pockets and placed onto the table. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to sell me your omega niece again.”

Giran chuckled, looking at Toga, who was smirking softly, “I guess he still hates that joke, huh?”

“Absolutely livid!” Toga laughed.

Shigaraki growled, his mind and his inner alpha snarling at the lack of respect to the command of his question. He outranked them, outpowered them; they needed to respect his orders. 

Giran took a deep inhale of his cigarette, sliding the card over to Shigaraki, his eyes averted, but his stance still firm. “I know you go through omegas faster than a teenage boy goes through a pack of tissues, but I think this can answer the pleas you have at night.”

Observing the card in his hand, Shigaraki scowls, unsure of how to feel about the print on the invitation. 

“Say the word, and I’ll get you a seat,” Giran whispers, like a sinister god begging a mere mortal to sign over their life for something completely worthless. But Shigaraki knows his worth, and more importantly, he knows in this game he outranks Giran, who would never betray him. In the slightest. He huffs, his back hunched, and his eyes looking with subdued excitement. 

“Who else is showing up?”

Giran knows the seat will be wanted that instant.

“No one who could hold a candle to you, alpha.”

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“Of course not, my liege.”

.

..

.

The award sitting in your hand feels almost fake as if the entire night was nothing more than a heat-driven fever dream. You had won, had actually won the most significant award of the night that an actress could win!

“Oh my gods, okay, okay,” your agent muttered beside you. Her eyes glued to the shiny gold statue between your legs. “Well, I know your heat starts tomorrow, and I’ll leave you alone for a week. But I swear, y/n, as soon as your mind isn’t a full-blown lusty heat brained bimbo, we’ll reconvene, and we will make sure you are nothing but the greatest!”

“Yeah,” you breathlessly state, eyes transfixed on the prize that felt like it could melt away any second right now. “That sounds wonderful.”

The car you were in pulled up to your front door, and you felt meek excited the car in nothing but a silk robe and slippers. The dress you had worn that night had already been put back into a plastic bag to be returned to the stylist who had offered to style you for the night. You waved with an almost transfixed look in your eyes as you closed your front door behind you, your heart hammering as adrenaline still coursed through your veins as if you had just been declared the victor of the category yet again.

Placing the trophy onto the table, you sighed in a wondrous, dreamy way.

You had done it.

You had won.

Fuck all those directors who had ever said anything different.

Still deep in your thoughts, you almost missed the knock on your door, and you figured that you must have left something in the car. Walking back over to the front door, your nose curled at the lack of scent, was it a beta?

Opening the door, you don’t remember seeing faces or even a scent of a pheromone. A single cloth wrapped over your head, and before you could send out your painful, fearful moments-from-heat omega pheromones, you were knocked out.

Cold and lifeless, you sunk against their arms, bile rising up to your throat as you know exactly what was going on. You were being kidnapped. 

No… please not… not after all of this had happened.

.

..

.

You wake up to the sound of moving feet, sneering laughter, the feeling of coarse, hot, hands on your ass and wet, simmering tongues on your lubricated cunt. The sense is vivid. You can feel the very littlest touch on your body, the layer of scented pheromones on your glands, and slick from alphas — you know it's alphas imprinting themselves on you as a mark of a claim.

You knew about this from high school; it was an extremely outdated and frowned upon version of mating and claiming as it simply turned away any sort of pursuer who wasn’t the thick pheromone individual. You also knew it was frowned upon because if multiple individuals sought mateship with the typical omega individual, it would result in a massive, unsolvable death match. But these alphas, even with layering their scent on you so thick you thought you were turning crazy, didn’t attack. No, they took languid stripes of your fresh, intoxicating slick and growled to you, maybe, how that was how slick was supposed to be. 

You wanted to move, to kick the stupid, demeaning alphas in the snout before running away, but in a twist of horrible realization, you soon figured out that despite your alert mind, you couldn’t move your body. Couldn’t shift it even the smallest of bits. 

“I hope all you wonderful clients have been able to taste and smell your potential mates out here!” A loud, commanding introduction voice echoed from somewhere where you couldn’t see, his voice vibrating into the straps of your legs, but you couldn’t make a sound or even open your eyes. “As you know, we have such an arrangement for you all, the best of the best, really! We don’t wish to rush, but as always, all of these events are incredibly time-sensitive, so if you would, please alphas, please come and sit down, and we’ll begin bidding on our first of seven beautiful, fertile omegas tonight!” 

The words sounded foreign in your ears yet at the same time, something so familiar because this was something you omegas were always warned about. This had to be some sort of omega mate auction, and by the stench of alphas who smelled like they owned millions and killed millions, you were in no doubt somehow caught up in one of the worst ones imagined. 

Two long, completely hardened fingers suddenly entered your cunt, and as if for a single millisecond, your mind and your body were able to work in tangent, your hips bucked at the sweet feelings. Oh, your eyes tried to flutter, enjoying the way the two fingers circled the walls of your long lonely cunt.

“Please, alpha, please refrain from touching the merchandise for now, please join us so that we may begin!”

The two fingers buried within your cunt as if it was their right, slowly withdrew out of your pulsing walls, and you heard the sound of sneakers against the hardwood floor and felt relaxed and sickened at how you sort of liked it.

Heat brain, you reminded yourself. Just your stupid, horny heat brain.

You were a celebrity, you mantra, a dignified star who didn’t need a beta or an alpha unless you saw it fit. Right now, as you had repeated many times to the countless amounts of reporters who had asked, you had no interest in someone to share your heat with.

“Alright, and to start off our night in a rolling go! Please, everyone put your hands together for the fertile and beautiful thirteenth in-line the Princess of Cabodia: Dayanara!”

This auction was insane, all six omegas before you all sold from a price that ranged from 198 hundred million to the one right before you who sold for one billion dollars. You were a prideful omega, and you saw worth to your abilities, smell, and looks, but were you even worth anywhere in that range?

The entire time you had been set up in who knows what, the small, overwhelming pound of your heat sinking into the depths and pores of your body was becoming heavy. You couldn’t move a single muscle still, your body still refusing to respond to the call of your body, but the seep of your slick running down the innards of your thighs, undoubtedly beginning to pool on the ground, must be embarrassing of you. 

Suddenly someone spread the skin below your ass out, and you couldn’t react as something sharp and prick stabbed into your flesh. You howled in the surprising pain, and you were fast to find that whatever they had injected you with had allowed systematic movement within your body. Your eyes fluttered open as two, impossibly huge alphas grabbed you by your forearm and hoisted you to your feet. 

Your neck was far too weak to carry the weight of your head, so your eyes were transfixed on the white silk of the slutty dress they dressed you in. It showed off your cleavage with no regret, and by the feel and look of it, it barely passed the bottom of your ass. Your vision swam, the alphas all over the room distorted and melting within one another as you stepped onto a stage, the spotlight on you feeling deliriously hot and melting your skin.

Your hormones, already going crazy with your heat, seemed to intensify at the small of so many capable, potent, possessive alpha pheromones that suffocated the room. Handcuffs slapped onto your wrists, and you moaned pathetically at the sting of cold metal on your skin, and you obediently followed the command of one alpha to go on your knees. 

A nail slammed between the metal links of the handcuffs, practically stapling you to the wooden floor, and you whimpered at the feeling of a stuffed pillow mount being placed beneath your lower stomach. You were in a forced and easily accessible mating position with your slick and cunt exposed for all the alphas to re-smell and see. 

Moaning, you shifted against the mount, your body not able to have the full movement you needed to ward off that building, insufferable heat in your core, but nothing you could do seemed to satisfy it.

“And for our biggest prize of the night, we have the one, the only, the beautiful sensation Y/l/n Y/n!” the auctioneer roared. His voice echoing in your ear as he walked over to you, exposing your dripping cunt to the crowd of alphas who had all gotten a sweet taste of your essence already. His hand came down to slap your ass with a chuckle. “Where do we start the bidding on this one, alphas? She needs no introduction, and none of you better be pussies because we know this bitch of an omega won’t take any tiny cocks as her alpha! She needs to be broken in, fucked to submission. No one likes a trailblazer… someone needs to remind of what fucking trail she’s supposed to be on. Besides, the bitch is in fucking heat, and if you don’t claim her, I just might do it myself!”

“75 million!” someone started the bidding.

You stiffened.

“75 to the man in the back!”

“90 million!” someone challenged.

“We’re up to 90!”

“125 million!”

“Do I hear another offer?”

“250 million!”

“250 million!”

The number climbed and climbed, the same voices coming to challenge each other until finally, they rounded out to a quantity that sounded bizarre even to you. 

“950 million!”

If it had been possible for your knees to give out, you would have been collapsed onto the floor, the pool of slick that continued to lubricate your cunt without a doubt drowning you as you craved the need to be fucked by someone with undoubted alpha pheromones and cock in this room. 

“950 million?” the auctioneer repeated, his voice for sure carrying a shark-like grin. “Going once, going twice—”

“Five billion.”

The gasp in the crowd was undeniable, and the omega in you crooned, knowing that this alpha valued you and your omega to be the price of five billion US dollars. 

“Fuck!” screamed the man who had presented the 950 million deal. 

“Wowee, five billion dollars, everyone! Anyone think they can beat that?! Going once! Going twice!” The crowd remained in silence, and you shook against your restraint, the heat emitting from your cunt almost demanding to be seen and fucked through this heat week. “SOLD! The virgin celebrity, Y/l/n Y/n sold to our own Shigaraki Tomura!”

The cheers of amaze weren’t nearly as loud as the smell of reeking petty alpha.

“Come and pay up, alpha, and then you can show us… a demonstration of how you’re going to break this omega.”

“Shut up.” Shigaraku growled, his footsteps heavy in your ear as you feel him climb up the stage, and you weakly tilted your head to look at the white-haired alpha boss hand over a simple credit card before walking over to you, his eyes unreadable as he looked you dead in the eye.

He reached out a finger that raised your chin up for him to study your face, moving and tilting your head as he pleased as a small, sinister smile pressed to his lips as he dropped your head. A sharp, uncomfortable pain fell on your chin as it crashed to the floor, and you shivered at the feeling of his calloused and rough fingers running down your exposed back.

“You’re such a small omega, still stupidly tiny. I bet you’ve never thought your first knot would come from someone like me,” Shigaraki laughed, his fingers and voice ice cold. His words were soft, spoken in a way that had your omega stupidly cooing for having secret conversations with your alpha who promised to fuck you till you were carrying a litter of pups. “I hope you realize that this is real life, that I will break you, and no hero in this world will be able to fucking save you.”

“Fuck the omega!” someone from the crowd screamed, and Shigaraki glared upwards. Still, you shivered in the thought of this alpha who spent five billion dollars to make you his claiming you, fucking your stupid heat brain into mush in front of these smaller, irrelevant alphas. 

“I’ll do what I fucking please,” Shigaraki snapped, but the fingers you remembered to have been the last ones to enter your slicked crazy walls seemed to be his. They moved deep within you, curling and spreading your tight, sopping wet cavern apart, letting your pathetic, chirping cries echo powerfully in the room as lusting, near rutting alpha pheromones filled the room. “For fucks sake, omega, your pussy’s fucking tight as shit! Don’t you have any real knotted toys?”

You couldn’t respond back, your body on the road to a complete shut down at the feeling of something other than silicone deep within your body, fingering and dragging against your pheromone soaked walls.

“Alpha, y-your fingers feel so good!” you gasp, your hips thrusting backward, enjoying the way his fingernails press onto your warm velvet walls. “So good, you make me feel so good already.”

“I’ve seen you all over the news,” Shigaraki growled low into your ear. “Talking about how you didn’t want an alpha, how you never needed to feel the tightness that a fat knot could bring you, and look at you now. I’ve barely touched you, barely begun to make you mine, and yet you’re already begging for me, omega.”

Your arms tug at the handcuffs, pathetically wanting them off. Exasperatedly seeking more friction from your newly bought alpha. You can’t think straight, can’t come up with a single response except the stupid apologetic, “I’m so sorry alpha, I didn’t know i-it would be y-you!”

“Don’t be shy on her, Shigaraki! Fuck the slutty omega already! Fucking knot and claim her in front of us, I want to hear the omega whore scream. It’s always hotter when it’s the first claim ever!”

“You better learn how to shut the fuck up, or I’ll kill you for interrupting my fucking session here,” Shigaraki seethed, his red, smoldering eyes ripping from yours and glaring at some loser alpha behind you. You couldn’t care. You only wanted what looked like the growing cock in Shigaraki’s pants; you wanted to feel the cock fill up your cunt, and his knot to lock you both in place.

You drooled at the thought, your loud, whimpering cries unable to keep from pouring out as the slick from your core seemed to pour endlessly from your pussy, demanding attention and a knot. “Breed me, fill me with your pups,” you begged fingers taking in his dirty fingers in your mouth, tongue wildly and uncontrollably flicking across his fingers in hopes it would be a sinking prayer of your promise to be good. “I want your knot, alpha, I want these stupid alphas to know you’re so much better than them~!”

Shigaraki’s once snarl fell when he looked at you, a slowly growing smirk falling on his face as his lips spread into a cruel smirk, one that had you moaning around his fingers as he pinched the pink muscle in your mouth before disappearing before you.

“I smelled your distress when I put my fingers up your sloppy little cunt right before the auction happened; I could tell even with your growing heat that you hated the feeling of my fingers up your pretty pussy. But look at you now, I haven’t even set you on my goddamn knot, haven’t stretched that tiny cunt to its max. You’re smelling better than a bitch in heat,” Shigaraki growled in your ear. His clothed chest pressing deliriously into your exposed back, the huge cock outline in his pants grinding incessantly into your wet core, undoubtedly leaving a damp patch where his cock ground into you. “You’re an actress, aren’t you, little omega? I bet you just needed this audience cheering your name to break your mind over this. How. Pathetic.”

And the pressure on your tongue is gone, the drool and saliva sticky and cold on your chin as you whimper for your alpha. You promised that it wasn’t right, it was just that you had been scared before, but your alpha was so strong, his pheromones so scary and mean, he could protect you and fill you up with so many pups you couldn’t help but to be excited now.

The smell of Shigaraki seemed to brighten, and you moaned when his hands pressed the white dress up, allowing for your naked ass to be seen by him and everyone who stayed to watch. Shigaraki squeezed your asscheeks away, chuckling at the way your small asshole clenched in your embarrassment and pain at how your hormone-driven heat demanded that he fuck you and knot you now.

“So fucking wet,” Shigaraki observed, his fingertips tracing the slick on your folds before a small pop told you that he licked you clean from his fingers. “Such sweet slick too, you really are a prime omega, little one.”

You whimpered, ass shaking for him to continue to touch you, to continue to fuck you more. 

“I don’t think you’re ready for my knot, precious omega,” Shigaraki taunted, and his words were a sealing deal in your lusting mind. Your hips knocking backward in some sort of desperation for more.

“She won’t,” commented the auctioneer.

“I will!” you scream, eyes filled with painful tears that could only be resolved with your alphas knot and claim. “I can take your knot, alpha!”

Shigaraki makes a small noise, and you choke at the feeling of something huge, nearly monstrous, shift into your cunt. You were a virgin, but even you knew that it was merely the head of his alpha thick cock, not enough for you to be satisfied, not far enough in you to breed or fuck you properly. All the moans in your throat were slightly painful, and the tears in your eyes continued to fall as you rocked your hips backward, trying to sink yourself further on his cock, wanting him deep in your womb.

You craved him.

“Ah, good, you can take more,” came the airy, almost insane driven coo of Shigaraki, the lack of humor making your cunt flutter against his thick, long cock. “Cry for your alpha, little omega.”

With that, Shigaraki slammed into you with no mercy, his cock bottoming out into you with a powerful, edging thrust. You screamed in pain, tears leaking from your eyes, and even with the pool of lubricating slick, his cock was far too big, incredibly thick that you felt your inner walls splitting in two as he fucked you as if you weren’t in delirious pain.

Drool and tears covered your arms, your painted fingers digging into the floorboards with crazy strength that you clawed scars on the floor as Shigaraki rutted deep within you.

Shigaraki commanded you with every thrust he gave, and soon the omega in you was cooing, howling for more, the pain of having your virginity ripped from right under you having become bubbling, glowing pleasure. You screamed in pleasure, Shigaraki grabbing onto your rolling hips to slam you back onto his cock, allowing for his thick cock to hit deep within you over and over again. The angle and power he possessed with every thrust were almost inhumane, nothing your lonely heat filled nights could ever dream of recreating ever. Shrill moans and pleas drowned out the annoying commentary of your onlookers, Shigaraki’s chest still flushed against your back, his hips landing heavily on your ass that was at this point raised because of the mount beneath you. 

“My alpha,” you babble, eyes unfocused, hazy, and incredibly heavy as you stared at some point on the wall, overwhelmed with the feeling of Shigaraki’s hot cock pounding in you. “My alpha, such a good alpha. His cock is making my tummy feel funny, making my pussy feel so tight. Please fill me with your children, I’ll be a good omega to you and them, I promise! I promise — I — oh myyy goddd — I promise, alpha!!!”

Shigaraki puffs up with the praise, but he continued to fuck into you roughly, mercilessly, as if you were nothing more than the breeding whore omega that he had purchased you for. The wet slaps and satisfying squelches rang in the blazing heat room, the smell of the pleasured and heat insane omega saturating deeply within his nose, and in the other's nose, the prideful smell of a satisfied alpha.

Your spongy walls clenched and spasmed against his penetrating, pounding cock, sometimes even forcibly because, by god, it was hot when his cock would twitch within your womb, especially against your cervix.

“Fuck, you’re so damn annoying,” Shigaraki snarled into your ear, his teeth biting and scraping along your neck, and you wailed when his teeth dragged over the sweet scent gland on your neck. The one and only place for mating bites to go. His hand gripped your hair, tugging your head back so that you could feel his rough facial skin rub up against yours. “If you want me to fill you with my pups, you better be the best fucking omega on this goddamn planet.”

“I can be the best! I’ll be the best!” you cried, your ass shifting backward to meet his drilling hips. 

The delirious sensation of his cock rocking against your cervix slowly begins to inflate the knot on his cock, restricting his still barbaric thrusting as he made to move faster. He wanted you to cum before he knotted entirely within you. 

The pressure in your stomach is scorching and impossibly tight, and he takes another long stripe at your scent gland. You tremble with need, your fingers tearing into the wooden floors. You can feel the knot on his cock swelling up, catching onto the opening of your cunt with every successive cunt, and you begin to cry, shake, and tremble as the knot becomes too big.

Your eyes cross, your tongue falling out of your mouth as you babble his name. Your walls clamp around his knotted cock with the ferocity of a vice, and your body jerks violently as you cum hard around his cock. The slick essence of your orgasm slipping out of the few lasting places open before Shigaraki’s knot fills you out entirely. Despite his cock unable to move, the swollenness of his knot preventing him from moving out of you, Shigaraki still shoves his weight into his hips, the inflated knot stretching your cock out so widely, your vision went white, and you came yet a second time.

A small pop was heard, and suddenly with a rush of thick, hot, and heavy white cum exploded within your womb, his teeth sink around your scent gland, marking you — mating you. He filled you, filled you, and filled you. His cum wouldn’t stop until your belly was swollen with his hot cum, and he eventually fell off of you with a shaky, shallow breath.

You still remained on the mount, your eyes unfocused, breaths mumbling to your alpha, a promise to carry out every single pup he gave you and would give you. You were his omega, his good little omega, and you would never disappoint your alpha. Not now, not ever.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

The next week, you opened your door with a broad smile, your usual clothes replaced with a dress Shigaraki had picked for you and a frilly white apron on as your agent was standing outside of your house, eyes wide, mouth gaped at the still bleeding mate wound on your shoulder.

“Ah, how funny!” you laughed, waving your hand as you sighed dreamily, your eyes fluttering at the thought of your alpha who was on a business call right now. “I’m actually going to be quitting! My alpha and I have many plans right now, I gotta produce as many litters as I can, being an actress would never give me this sort of meaning in life!”

“B-But, you’re doing so much?! You have so much to do! You can’t give up?!”

“Oh, my love, we both know that I look much cuter with a pregnant belly! Don’t worry,” you smile, taking your agent's hand, brightly smiling at her one last time. “I’m sure all omegas will eventually find their alpha so they won’t be so depressed and angry like I was!”

Your agent doesn’t get another word in.

You slam the door in her face, your hands already resting on your belly that you knew was already growing the life of your first litter of pups. It had been known the second Shigaraki filled you up anymore.

You were a good little omega, and your alpha needed you!

[perpetual-stories]

How To Fight Writers Block

hello, hello. hope everyone is doing well. as you can all tell, this post will be about how to fight writers block.

it’s really annoying to me when I hear people say “oh you don’t have writers block, you’re just lazy.”

first of all, yes, I am naturally lazy. second of all, how dare you. writing isn’t as easy as many think. granted, all you have to do is write down words on paper, but it’s not always easy to find the right words to express what you are feeling, or what you wish to say.

I have had terrible writer’s block for the last few days and it’s horrible! as a business owner or a small writing store, I have to be ready to write and fulfill my clients’ ideas and orders.

it’s not easy. It takes a heavy toll on my imagination, and digs me a deep pit of blockage, drowning in the lack of originality because of the constant writing and repetition or certain phrases and sentences in different projects.

i am making this post in the hopes to remind myself about over coming the dreaded and sometimes skeptically believed writer’s block.

What is writer’s block?

Yeah, I know. We all know what that is, but let me define it.

is the state of being unable to proceed with writing, and/or the inability to start writing something new

some people believe it to be a real problem, others believe it's “all in your head”

What Causes Writer’s Block?

in the 1970s, clinical psychologists Jerome Singer and Michael Barrios decided to find out

they concluded that there are four broad causes of writer's block:

Excessively harsh self-criticism

Fear of comparison to other writers

Lack of external motivation, like attention and praise

Lack of internal motivation, like the desire to tell one's story

How to overcome writer's block: 20 tips

1. Develop a writing routine:

Author and artist Twyla Tharp once wrote: “Creativity is a habit, and the best creativity is a result of good work habits.”

it might seem counterintuitive

if you only write when you “feel creative,” you're bound to get stuck in a tar pit of writer's block

The only way to push through is by disciplining yourself to write on a regular schedule. It might be every day, every other day, or just on weekends — but whatever it is, stick to it!

2. Use "imperfect" words:

A writer can spend hours looking for the perfect word or phrase to illustrate a concept

You can avoid this fruitless endeavor by putting, “In other words…” and simply writing what you’re thinking, whether it’s eloquent or not

You can then come back and refine it later by doing a CTRL+F search for “in other words.”

3. Do non-writing activities:

one of the best ways to climb out of a writing funk is to take yourself out of your own work and into someone else’s

Go to an exhibition, to the cinema, to a play, a gig, eat a delicious meal

immerse yourself in great STUFF and get your synapses crackling in a different way

Snippets of conversations, sounds, colors, sensations will creep into the space that once felt empty

4. Freewrite through it:

free-writing involves writing for a pre-set amount of time without pause — and without regard for grammar, spelling, or topic. You just write.

The goal of freewriting is to write without second-guessing yourself — free from doubt, apathy, or self-consciousness, all of which contribute to writer's block. Here’s how:

Find the right surroundings. Go somewhere you won't be disturbed.

Pick your writing utensils. Will you type at your computer, or write with pen and paper? (Tip: if you're prone to hitting the backspace button, you should freewrite the old-fashioned way!)

Settle on a time-limit. Your first time around, set your timer for just 10 minutes to get the feel for it. You can gradually increase this interval as you grow more comfortable with freewriting.

5. Relax on your first draft:

Many writers suffer form perfectionism, which is especially debilitating during a first draft

“Blocks often occur because writers put a lot of pressure on themselves to sound ‘right’ the first time. A good way to loosen up and have fun again in a draft is to give yourself permission to write imperfectly.” — editor Lauren Hughes

perfect is the enemy of good,” so don't agonize about getting it exactly right! You can always go back and edit, maybe even get a second pair of eyes on the manuscript

6. Don’t start at the beginning:

the most intimidating part of writing is the start, when you have a whole empty book to fill with coherent words

instead of starting with the chronological beginning of whatever it is you’re trying to write, dive into middle, or wherever you feel confident

7. Take a shower:

Have you ever noticed that the best ideas tend to arrive while in the shower, or while doing other “mindless” tasks?

research shows that when you’re doing something monotonous (such as showering, walking, or cleaning), your brain goes on autopilot, leaving your unconscious free to wander without logic-driven restrictions

showering is my favourite thing to do if I may add

8. Balance your inner critic:

successful writers have in common is the ability to hear their inner critic, respectfully acknowledge its points, and move forward

You don't need to completely ignore that critical voice, nor should you cower before it

you must establish a respectful, balanced relationship, so you can address what's necessary and skip over what's insecure and irrelevant

9. Switch up your tool:

a change of scenery can really help with writer's block. However, that scenery doesn't have to be your physical location — changing up your writing tool can be just as big a help!

if you’ve been typing on your word processor of choice, try switching to pen and paper. Or if you're just sick of Google Docs, consider using specialized novel writing software.

10. Change your POV:

great advice from editor Lauren Hughes: “When blocked, try to see your story from another perspective ‘in the room’ to help yourself move beyond the block. How might a minor character narrate the scene if they were witnessing it? A ‘fly on the wall’ or another inanimate object?

11. Exercise your creative muscles:

Any skill requires practice if you want to improve, and writing is no different! So if you’re feeling stuck, perhaps it’s time for a strengthening scribble-session to bolster your abilities

12. Map out your story:

If your story has stopped chugging along, help it pick up steam by taking a more structured approach — specifically, by writing an outline

13. Write something else:

Though it's important to try and push through writer's block with what you're actually working on, sometimes it's simply impossible

feel free to push your current piece to the side for now and write something new

14. Work on your characters:

It follows that if your characters are not clearly defined, you’re more likely to run into writer’s block

15. Stop writing for readers:

write for yourself, not your potential readers

this will help you reclaim the joy of being creative and get you back in touch with what matters: the story.

this is something I really need to do. because of my etsy business i don't write for fun anymore, but instead as a business and a deadline. i'm going to have to pull out my old crappy wattled fanfics or write some new ones.

16. Try a more visual process:

when words fail you, forget them and get visual. Create mind maps, drawings, Lego structures — ideally related to your story, but whatever unblocks your mind!

17. Look for the root of it:

writer’s block often comes from a problem deeper than simple “lack of inspiration.” So let's dig deep: why are you really blocked? Ask yourself the following questions:

Do I feel pressure to succeed and/or competition with other writers?

Have I lost sight of what my story is about, or interest in where it's going?

Do I lack confidence in my own abilities, even if I've written plenty before?

Have I not written for so long that I feel intimidated by the mere act?

Am I simply feeling tired and run-down?

once you identify what's wrong, it'll be so much easier to fix.

18. Quit the Internet:

If willpower isn’t your strong suit and your biggest challenge is staying focused, try a site blocker like Freedom or an app like Cold Turkey

19. Let the words find you:

meditate, go for a walk, take that shower

Word Palette is a great app that features a keyboard of random words, allowing you to simply click your way to your next masterpiece.

You can also try AI auto-completers like Talk to Transformer, where you can enter a phrase and let the app “guess what comes next.”

even though they often produce nonsense, it's a great way to help that writer's block.

20. Write like Hemingway:

And if your biggest block is your own self-doubt about your prose, Hemingway offers suggestions to improve your writing as you go

it's a pretty cool app if you ask me.

it highlights your sentences (if need be) and makes suggestions on how to improve them!

well, there you have it! a lengthy post on how to fight writer's block. now i just hope i can combat my own soon.

like, comment and reblog if you find this useful! feel free to reblog in instagram and tag me perpetualstories

Follow me on instagram and tumblr for more writing and grammar tips and more!

[siwoline]

“believe me, i tried unloving you.” — [pjs.]

♫ : an art gallery could never be as unique as you by mrld

note. the painting mentioned here is just a work of fiction. if in case it relates to any painting, craft, or art piece in reality, all is purely coincidental.

word count: 1,506  |  angst, unrequited love

<masterlist> <prev> <next>

“y/n!”

as soon as jay reaches you, he hugged you tight as if you did not just see each other two days ago. you laughed at how clingy he is even though you got used to it already because he’s been like that ever since.

he loosened his embrace to take a look at you then asked, “how’s my favorite one?”

he scrunched his nose almost looking like the cute cats you see online, which made you laugh even more and so you bury your face, your cheeks actually, to his chest as a response that you missed him just the same and tightened the hug that you share.

when you initiated to let go of your hug, you saw him pouted his lips but since your time is limited today, he decided to just guide you to the car he brought while you were laughing at how cute he is today. jay opened the car door for you, letting you ride on the shotgun seat. he took a turn and sat on the driver’s seat and looked at you, now showing a smile.

“are you excited?” you smiled, almost laughing at his giddy smile.

“ya, y/n! it’s a museum trip! and we’re just 30 minutes away from it,” and so he started driving.

today is saturday and you are to visit a local museum out of town. it’s like a tradition for you two to go out every weekend and you even made a jar full of papers folded into tiny pieces. written in those papers are names of places you both want to go to, picking one every weekend that passes by.

and today’s trip is actually the last paper you picked from that jar, a museum.

you both agreed that you won’t add more papers when you noticed that it’s slowly emptying itself. instead, you’ll create more on your last day and decided that you’ll share one secret with each other during the trip.

and jay seems to be in the middle of knowing whether he’s nervous or excited, probably thinking of what today brings.

you can’t deny that you’re feeling nervous too, which is quite weird. last night, you went back and forth in your room, thinking of what secret you’ll share with him but you can’t think of any. in your defense, it seems like jay knows almost everything about you already.

jay is observant, very attentive actually. he takes note of the littlest details about you but he doesn’t brag about it. there are times you’re taken aback because he knows what food you want to order when you’re having a lunch out or that he knows what random thing you forgot to bring on a busy day.

he knows the meaning behind your raised brows, your blank stares, or even when you are suddenly spacing out. jay familiarized himself with you that it’s crazy to think of a thing he doesn’t know about you.

“y/n! we’re here!”

you looked outside and saw a tall tower beside what seems like a casa. you turned back to tell him, “the national museum?”

he nodded, smiling, and shrugged his shoulders as if he’s telling you that he got it correct again. you shrieked and pulled him for a tight hug, “thank you, jay.”

growing up, you had sweet little crushes with people whom you met from school or in class. just last month, or maybe a few months ago, you remembered that you always go to the national museum for a first date with the person you were dating. you told jay that you wanted to create new memories on the national museum because you always think of how petty and hopeless romantic you once were.

but the truth is, you just want to forget about the memories you made with the wrong people. you wanted to start anew and think of the places you’ve been through with only happy memories in mind. whenever you think of the national museum, and every other places you’ve been to with the people who hurt you, you could only remember how impulsive, toxic, and love-thirsty you once were.

your thoughts stopped when he let go of your hug and went out the car to open the door for you. when everything’s settled, you linked your arms with his and you walked inside the museum together.

the museum caters thousands of masterpiece that only the national heritage owns. you and jay were being toured to the place and he occasionally tells you a thing or two about the art you’re seeing. the fact that he knows these kinds of information is already known to you because jay always wanted to go to places like this, where there are stories behind every thing that is wonderful.

when the museum guide ended the tour and said that you can now go around the place on your own, jay held your hand and looked at you.

“y/n, i know a piece to show you.”

you were walking past by the paintings about society, about children and family, until you reached the section where it’s about love. you were sure it’s about love. you looked around and you saw a rose quartz painting.

“jay, a rose quartz!” you said, obviously excited with what you saw. he laughed and told you that, “i know, y/n.”

you dragged him in front of the painting. it was rose quartz placed in what seems like a hand plate. the art is beautiful and mesmerizing that you were just admiring it with your eyes while jay is beside you, probably doing the same.

“this room,” jay caught your attention when he suddenly spoke. “this room is said to be a love section, y/n.”

you nodded and said, “it’s pretty obvious, jay. the paintings here,” you were cut off by him.

“but art can be interpreted in so many ways, y/n.” you looked at him, confused with what he’s trying to tell.

“the painting before we enter this room is called The Manifestation,” this time, he’s looking at you too. “i still don’t get it, jay” was the only response you can give.

you remember the painting you saw earlier before you enter this space. it’s an image of two silhouettes but only the other person is drawn with a heart. it was simple, yet, based on what jay is trying to say, it was meaningfully done.

“we are to share a secret today, right?” he asked, changing the topic. you only nodded as a response because you’re getting confused with where this conversation is going.

“y/n,” he called you, now with his body facing you. he reached for both your hands and held them gently. you hummed, gesturing that he continue.

“they say it’s actually bad to manifest for a person to move or act against their own free will, so i didn’t try to do that and i don’t want to. but when people told me that we’re not allowed to touch the art,” he said.

he then slowly envelopes you with his arms, “then why am i hugging one now?”

“jay,” you let go of his embrace, looking at him with confused eyes. “what did you say?”

he’s confessing. for real.

it’s already known to you that jay possibly might have feelings for you but you never got the chance to confirm if it’s true. it’s only your friends and your gut feeling that made you think that way. but you told yourself that jay stays only because he pities you and you were nothing but a mess since the day he met you. and jay being himself, you thought that he just wants to take care of you and nothing more than that.

and so you asked, “aren’t you just being confused with your feelings, jay?”

“i genuinely like you, y/n.”

“but i’m not—”

"look, i know that you’re not interested in romance. i don’t put malice in every hug, every i love you that we share, and in every take care that you give me before going home.”

and he’s not wrong. your tendencies of pushing away people that show meaningful interest and affection to you are all starting to build up within your system, as if it’s caging you again, stopping you from giving all that you have again to a person.

the fear of receiving affection and love takes over like a hunter, attacking those who would dare shower you hearts.

“since when did all of this happen, jay?” was the only words you could think of that would be less hurtful for him.

he looked away, catching words to say, and looked back at you. his eyes, hopeful ones, are looking straight at yours. “since day one?”

absurd.

“then from now on, can you start over?”

because no one can really love consistently. no one can love so genuinely.

“what do you mean?” he is confused.

and even if there is, you don’t want to risk your heart again.

“can you start day one, possibly with someone else?”