#the writing is like just tidbits I thought of while working to make sure I don't forget them not my main focus

[bibiana112]

Me to myself as I write characters actively malfunctioning for not taking care of themselves: yo did you eat that lunch you said you were gonna make or

[wonderjanga]

Marvel and the YJ

So, Marvel in the YJ. He’s one of their den mothers and all that. So like, in this AU, and in fact in all of my posts so far, Billy’s kept it under wraps that he’s a kid. So, as a result, the YJ think he’s just this really cool big brother (dad (they just don’t know it)) type of dude. Like he’s so nice. And he’s so nice to them especially. Like, he treats all of them the same way he treats adults. He doesn’t doubt their abilities, and when they fail, he’s still there to encourage them to get back up and he doesn’t even make them feel bad about it.

Like, the one time he was asked to spar with the YJ cause they wanted to for funsies I guess, he positively whooped their asses and somehow, someway found a way to still compliment their abilities, even if they didn’t last that long because the battle was a little one-sided. To be fair though, they had asked him not to go easy, which he didn’t. In the end, he got promptly scolded by Canary heavily when she found out he quite literally used Kid Flash as a rag doll and threw him at Aqualad. She said that the entire tape of him having a “friendly spar” with those kids, was essentially just him bullying them. To which Billy tried to defend himself by saying those kids were plenty capable. The defense didn’t work.

Then, there was this time Kon mentioned he couldn’t fly and Marvel offered him a lift. This somehow ended up with Marvel sort of T posing mid air as Kon and Robin hung on one arm, Artemis and Aqualad hung on the other arm, then Kid Flash held onto one leg while M’gann held onto the other.

Flash: “Wow.” *looking up at the YJ and Marvel* “That’s… actually kinda majestic, not gonna lie.”

Superman: *also looking up at Marvel and the YJ* “Is it though? What if one of them falls?”

Flash: “Eh. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Kid Flash proceeds to almost slip off and fall, which almost gives both the speedster and Kryptonian a heart attack. Thankfully, he catches himself by moving his feet really fast to boost himself back up. Worst part in their opinion is that Marvel didn’t even seem to notice.

Then, there was the time M’gann with Robin about something. Batman was also working nearby on a computer.

M’gann: “Hmm… We need advice.”

Robin!Tim: “We need an adult.”

Batman: *keeping an ear out cause he’s always happy to help one of his kids*

M’gann and Robin!Tim: *thinking before they speak up at the same time* “Marvel.” *they then both walk out of the room to find the Captain*

Batman: *a little upset that Tim did didn’t come to him for help but also a lot more concerned as to why they thought Marvel was a suitable choice to ask for advice, especially considering the fact that just earlier that day, he had caught the man scribbling on one of the meeting tables like a 5th grader scribbling on their desk*

Contrary to what Bruce thought might happen (I.e. something going wrong) apparently Marvel’s advice wasn’t too bad, seeing nothing had gone wrong yet. (He later found out that the two had asked for the best advice on how to incapacitate your enemy quickly. He found this out when he saw Tim throat punch a man. Said man went down almost immediately. When prodded for information for as to why he did that, he proudly proclaimed “Cap taught me��)

Also a little tidbit from the Marvel Cursing post about the YJ thinking that Marvel called one of them a dumb cunt. Courtesy to @helps-the-writing-brain-go

Billy’s recently noticed that the kids are acting funny. Though, he supposes it’s not a bad funny. If anything, whatever’s got them acting weird has got them doing better on missions, but still. It’s weird. What’s weirder is that whenever he compliments them, they shine twice as brighter than they normally do. What’s even weirder than that is that whenever they’ve messed up recently they look twice as nervous. Speaking of which, this was one of the moments they’ve messed up.

Marvel: “So… Uh- that didn’t go so well.”

YJ: *obvious signs of anxiousness on some and subtle on others*

Marvel: “But that’s okay! But that’s okay.” *trying his best to make the anxiety in them disappear* “We just have to try to be better next time. Like, and I hate to say this, maybe try calling in an adult next time? Like me? I could’ve zoomed over and helped you guys.”

YJ: *look at each other*

Artemis: “Wally’s the one who said that we shouldn’t call you in a try to do this on our own.”

Kid Flash: *dramatic gasp* “You know why I said that! It would’ve helped us all if Kaldur had tried to put the fires near the gas tanks out with his water powers!”

Aqualad: “I was busy being attacked by nearly five different people.”

YJ: *dissolve into arguing*

Marvel: “Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wally what did you mean by it would’ve helped you all? Me not being there would’ve been good?” *confused*

YJ: *immediate silence*

Kon: “Wally found out that you think one of us is dumb cunt.”

Kid Flash: “Dude! You guys need to stop ratting me out!”

Marvel: “What.” *stares in befuddlement*

M’gann: “And then he told us. So we’ve been trying to think of ways to not be uh… dumb cunts.”

Marvel: *blinks rapidly* “Again, what? Wally, where did you get this information from?”

Kid Flash: “When you were making cookies! I heard you say blah blah blah, what a dumb cunt.”

Marvel: *still staring in confusion*

Kid Flash: “Then, when I asked what you were talking about, Mary said you were talking about our performance on missions.”

Marvel: “…Okay. I’m going to be completely honest with you. I don’t remember a thing of what you’re talking about.”

Marvel then goes on to make a speech about how they’re wonderful heroes who shouldn’t let one person’s words guide them, especially in risky situations like a mission. He then told them that he was now going to stress bake and make some Minnesota cool whip, jello, fruit, not really salad, salad. (Courtesy to @jedipirateking) On the bright side though, the speech did leave the teens feeling better.

[keferon]

Did I spend two hours writing this? Ha! No, why do you ask. *lying through my teeth* anyway come here Mecha au Texaid enjoyers. come get yall juice.

———

Vortex isn’t sure when it started. Doesn’t even dare to try to pinpoint the when, why, where and how of it. Just that it exists. Some forgotten feeling stored in the deep recesses of his somewhat intact consciousness that has resurfaced. It burns him, tears down at the steel walls he had formed around himself. Makes him feel like he’s being broken down then built up again. 

It’s a wonderful, terrifying feeling that eats away at him the more ‘he’s’ here. The more that secretly unhinged medic-turned-pilot crawls into his cockpit, every time getting more comfortable with connecting with him literally and figuratively. With Aid slowly coming to not outright radiate hatred with every encounter. Sharing stuff like music, who they couldn’t stand, and answers to the most stupid questions like ‘wha’s your favorite color?’. Vortex had cackled at Aid for that one.

At first he rejects the feeling. Stops it at full force, imagining it going through a trash compactor or being incinerated to ash. He makes himself believe it’s a game. Empty threats, flirtatious behavior and cutting banter puts him at the top 5 of First Aid’s Most Annoying Motherfuckers to Ever Exist list. A tidbit of information he is proud as fuck of.

But that denial came to a stop the moment Shockwave had stepped into his hangar while Aid had been in his cockpit, his visor the only shield to keep that creepo from getting near him. Vortex may have been a homicidal maniac, but there had always been something about Shockwave’s presence that made him feel suffocated even back when he was alive. It took some silent processing to realize—and goddammit he hates himself for it—how afraid he had been. Not so much for himself but for the little flesh bag hidden away inside him. 

It had rocked him, that’s for damn sure. When Aid had asked what made him different from all the other pilots Vortex had disregarded and killed, he answered truthfully at the time. ‘You treat me like a threat, like I’m the one in control of this power instead of you.’ And while that still held some merit, it changed kind of. ‘Threat’ turned into person. And the power that he holds became more and more of Aid’s. How easily Vortex was swayed into giving into Aid’s requests. 

The first one being to dissect that Quintesson. He had reveled in the way it squirmed and screeched, trying fruitlessly to get out of their grip. Vortex considered to simply rip it in half for fun, until he felt something from the connection in the drift. A sort of fascination and curiosity quietly humming through the link. Took him longer than he’d like to admit to realize it wasn’t coming from him but Aid. A drive to know how this creature worked, how to best take it apart to examine its insides. And before he knew what he was doing, Vortex did, cutting it as neatly down the middle as he could manage. He remembers the shudder of excitement from the link, at how different that alien was, how this information could benefit battles in the future. The bombardment of information and feelings had shocked him, though he of course didn’t show it, but it also sent a thrill of wonder through him. ‘This freak’ he had chuckled to himself, feeling as Aid leaned out from his cockpit to examine the creature.

After that he realized how dangerous this was. The power Aid unknowingly held over him, and all he needed were his words. But he found that he didn’t care all that much. Especially not when Aid would sometimes fall asleep in his cockpit after a grueling mission, and Vortex would snap his visor at anyone who tried to get him out. Moments like that made him wish he still had a human body. To flick the nerd’s nose, to ruffle his hair, to playfully shove him. Thoughts like those made his non-existent heart throb, sickening himself with those sappy sentiments. He will never mention this to Aid, you’d have to rip it out of his cold, dead conscience.

Standing in the hangar, he’s not sure when he had decided this promise to himself. Doesn’t even try to pinpoint when. But he knows that if this little ant ever died, he wouldn’t stop destroying everything in his path until he either killed the one who had done it, very slowly at that, or deactivated with vengeance still roaring through his circuits. 

OH I LOVE THIS SO FUCKING MUCH KFKFNFKDNHDKRKTNRJRMT

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[ghost-bxrd]

Been mulling over Titans Tower and it's really interesting to me how it's treated in Fanon as compared to how the events transpired in canon. it's a really fun topic! Honestly, the original writing in canon is DOGSHITE but not for the usual reasons people cite.

Here's what does make sense in canon but is largely ignored (this is using canon characterisations at the time): First, it's all about the whole Titans team, not just Tim. They really downplay his death a lot, did not put up his statue or honour him whatsoever. Plus the hero community tends to victim-blame him a fuckton. Jason is showing that his death could've happened to anyone. Second, Tim and Jason are just two yearish apart—Jay died at 15, Tim becomes Robin at 13—so those Titans are more like his colleagues than anything else; he's not some older guy beating the shit outta them. Third, Tim’s indifference to Jason's comments and his cockiness about being a better Robin are pretty on-brand for his early portrayal as Robin. (I think fanon Tim derives a lot of his characteristics from his Red Robin run, which is valid as well! But here in particular we have Robin Tim... who... was... uh... a bit of an asshole when he was written back then and the HUBRIS on that man? Immaculate.)

What still makes this absolutely dog shit is the dialogue and how Jason is pouring his heart out to someone who he doesn't really care about. Jason... just doesn't operate this way... Why's he trauma dumping on... tim... ???? It makes no sense whatsoever because Jason really is someone who'd keep those vulnerabilities to himself. Why would he open up to... CANON TIM??? He makes scathing remarks when faced with Bruce and Dick because he knows the knife twists then and at he cares about their reaction. But not tim ????? Canon UTRH doesn't even mention Tim ????? ???? So in the end it's still shit imo.

I also find the use of Pit Madness in fanon super interesting, despite it not being canon. It's used to propel the Titan's Tower incident, which fascinates me because it shows how people are willing to work around its flaws to maintain consistent characterization in their works (which is !!! cool !!)

It's so interesting how many other incidents that do occur in canon aren't as well known as this one aren't given much thought. But this one is and it's interesting how people try to work with it regardless of it's flaws originally!

I'd really love to hear your opinions about it and how flexible you are with the Titans tower incident! :) How do you work with your Jason and your Tim? because it's cool to hear your analysis etc etc

Hooo boi okay i was planning on replying to this earlier but this deserves a proper, thought out response (which I’m shite at but I’m trying here. Words are hard.)

For one, I wholeheartedly agree with the whole trauma dumping thing.

Obviously we all have different tastes in media and I know there are quite a few people who enjoyed the confrontation with Tim, which is totally fine, but personally… yeah, not my thing.

I got into the Batman/batfam fandom via fanfic, so my first introduction was some version of Titans Tower I believe. I was super intrigued by the characters and the tidbits of lore sprinkled throughout that I immediately began reading up on them and digging through the internet for more info and background story on them. Which then quickly evolved into the part where my adoration for Jason’s character began and a short phase where I absolutely despised early canon Tim.

Like— all the victim blaming. He seriously couldn’t mention Jason without adding something derogatory about getting himself killed, which sat so, so wrong with me. Not to mention the Titans just accepting a new Robin right off the bat and joining in blaming Jason for his own death. I’m pretty sure that was the point where I swore off comics for a long while and decided to live off fanon 🤣

And then Jason’s part in the Titans Tower incident. I think part of how weird the canon event was is due in part to how the writers fumbled to depict trauma? Or maybe they just outright hated him because I know a lot of people back then despised Jason and his run as Robin.

Whatever the reason, I think I genuinely cringed when he revealed the Walmart Robin costume he was wearing. And then the trauma dumping.

Jason is smart enough to know Tim wouldn’t care about his grievances. I mean- dude just broke into his hideout to attack him, I think Tim’s about as done with Jason as with any other criminals, regardless of his past. And all that is proven by Tim fighting back tooth and nail without pause. He doesn’t even react to the accusation of the missing statue in Jason’s honor. Like, he genuinely doesn’t seem to care. And why would he? They don’t know each other.

And yeah maybe he was trying to beat some sense into Tim (which is still wrong but— vigilantes I guess? Idk) and make him quit Robin, but Jason’s also smart enough to know that Robins don’t quit easily. And then, as soon as Tim is down for the count and can’t keep fighting, Jason leaves. Just like that. No actual murder attempt, no kicking-while-he’s-down (at least as far as I remember).

It makes no sense. What would Jason be gaining from that encounter? Why would he blame the kid that replaced him and not the guy that did the replacing? Hell, it would make more sense for him to go after the Titans than Tim. Not the mention him casually doubting Tim’s talents when he must have done some background checks on him.

It’s why I like the idea of Pit Madness I guess, and that Jason actually went to the tower with the intent to kill. Because that way the entire thing wouldn’t seem so… pointless.

As for how flexible I am with the Titans Tower storyline, it really depends on the route people choose to explore. But I’m a huge sucker for the “Jason was Tim’s Robin” trope where there’s at least a mild amount of hero worship going on. 👁️ Oh, and happy endings. I can’t deal with tragedies.

But yeah these are my thoughts on it. Obviously no hate to whoever enjoyed the comic mentioned above 💚 we’ve all got different things we resonate with after all~

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

spent a good hour reading up on your Not What He Seems AU, it’s such a perfect mix of angst and whimsy! Ford waking up to find 30 years have passed in the blink of an eye is is the kind of body horror terrifying i eat up, as an avid enjoyer of time travel and its inherent tragedy.

i got a few questions, if you’ll indulge me:

- what kinds of tattoos you think Bill has gotten over the years? i think i saw some arm bands in one of your pieces, but i’d love to hear if you have any specific ideas for placements or images. if he’s doing it for the safe pain experience, i’d think there are some pretty big/detailed pieces involved? and do you think the pain helps ground him somewhat, to find and fit better in the boundaries of the body?

- in the show, Stan feels a lot of guilt for stealing his brother’s identity and he kinda thinks of himself as a fraud, an actor. do you think Bill ever feels guilty for the same? or would he just miss Ford a lot, without the Stan-specific aspect of pretending to be “the better one”?

also any fun tidbits you’ve been rotating in your head lately! it’s impressive how specifically it seems like you’ve thought out how Bill’s presence would affect the canon show events, while trying to keep them as unchanged as possible. also StanFraud is the funniest, most perfect thing I’ve ever heard!

Thank you!! I’ve always enjoyed writing horror based on human response, so Ford’s perspective is probably one of the most fascinating to me in this AU, although, all of it is fascinating and enjoyable to explore, really!

— I haven’t worked them all out yet, but I know for a fact he has a tattoo of the Cipher Wheel on his back, the arm bands as you mentioned, a hyper-realistic tattoo of his ribs where his ribs would be (if that makes sense), and eyes on the back of his hands. Honestly, I’d be open to suggestions for him! I imagine him having some more grotesque, detailed tattoos that reflect the nightmare realm as well. And yes, the pain definitely helps ground him. It also gives him a sense of control as well, in a situation where he has none.

— If he does feel guilty, it’s a complicated kind of guilt. I don’t even think he’d fully process that he’s feeling guilty. It’s this sort of gnawing feeling he can’t get rid of, and it starts the longer he gets to know Dipper and Mabel — he never really felt it before that. He absolutely misses Ford though. He can’t define that feeling either. I’ve said before that he looks at Dipper strangely, and that’s because Dipper reminds him of Ford in certain moments, eager for discovery!

He and Stan never really talk about it, but the have both acknowledged missing Ford before.

Bill’s response was vague though, not an ‘I miss him too’, but an ‘I think I do too.’ He isn’t sure what to make of that.

Bill Cipher doesn’t feel remorse, or miss people, he does everything with intention and he’s never made mistakes. Or, that’s what he’s meant to be. Maybe he has gone soft.

And Tidbits! I have a few! Not as many as usual, only because Arcane’s been taking up a bit of my brain space lately, but I hope these shall suffice anyhow:

(And quickly, thank you again, I think way too hard on all the small details and how Bill’s presence would have a knock on effect. It makes me happy to see it get noticed!)

— In the early days of Bill being trapped, Stan obviously doesn’t open the Mystery Shack, and ends up having to take a few odd jobs around town instead. He’s earned a bit of a reputation for being a decent handyman because of that, and even now, old timers of the town will still come to Stan if they need something fixing, especially cars. He complains about getting too old for it, but he never says no. Money is money! It’s also interesting to think about how the little things would impact his relationship with the townsfolk and how they view him. He’s always been Stanley to them. He’s never had to pretend otherwise.

— I’ve toyed around with making the Blind Eye a bigger threat than they are in canon, being as the kids would have no reason to look into Old Man McGucket. I’ve also toyed around with McGucket ending up slightly different to canon, his mind still broken, but his motivation different, with him being aware early on that the man he sees isn’t Ford, and is in fact the beast he fears and tried to erase from his mind. A more antagonistic Fiddleford who’s been trying to get rid of Bill for years now would actually be really fun? If I can make it work, and make the Blind Eye work in this way, I’ll lean into it! For now though, it’s just an idea I’m throwing around.

— Vague ‘episode’ idea that exists within my brain is Bill accidentally starting a mini cult again after telling some sort of lie that catches on, and it ends up being a Mabel-Bill bonding plot-line as she tries to convince him to just be honest before this whole cult thing gets taken too far. I also love the idea of Bill making a comment about this being like 1952 all over again. He makes comments like that all the time. Surely he’s just joking!

— Another vague ‘episode’ idea I have is Bill taking Dipper and Mabel to the supernatural underground market of Gravity Falls under Stan’s nose, trying to prove he’s the cooler Uncle, and that he can handle the two kids by himself. This goes about as well as you’d expect. Stan isn’t too happy to find out Bill got Dipper and Mabel in trouble, as he tried to get them to do more and more risky things.

— Bill will sometimes start speaking in Euclydian without realising, especially when it comes to cursing, and no one knows how he’s making those sounds with his mouth. Stan’s actually started picking up some of the meanings in context and can roughly gauge what Bill might be saying.

[madeby-meru]

Thoughts on Episode 10 (Jason Route)

Now that I am chill after losing both the illustration and the route and having to watch it somewhere else, I can give my thoughts on this episode! ^^

I wanted to upload this sooner but had no time to finish it lol

beware of spoilers under the cut!

Overall, my main feeling while playing and after finishing was that i was tremendously bored for 90% of the episode. And honestly this makes me sad! I really like filler episodes, i love silly little moments that don't add much to the story itself but that let you see the characters in different situations and learn other tidbits of information about them. For example, I liked going with Brune and Elanda to look for Thomas, seeing them in a situation where they're worried about a friend that could be in serious trouble and how they reacted differently to everything. It adds depth and personality (which these characters desperately need). I have seen Roy's route in this episode too and i liked how it added a bit to his characterization of this very sweet and caring man. I have to say that i also loved seeing Thomas' mom again and im soooo happy that she got a redesign! (even though I wish she looked like an actual 60 year old woman, girlie looks addicted to botox). I would have loved to see Iris too but we got a couple more characters from the MCL games so I'm happy with that. I like seeing that we are, indeed, in the same universe lol.

However, in my opinion anything good or interesting in the episode was completely overshadowed by the sheer *absurdity* of it all.

It's the same issue as always, the "plot" doesn't make sense and unintentionally the characters end up being depicted terribly and (usually) Devon and Thomas suffer the most.

Devon looks like an irresponsible boss that doesn't keep his empoyees in check and lets them do whatever they want even if it harms the job or other emoplyees's work. He postpones the meeting with the town hall (would he even be allowed to do that? i'm sure this would have negative impact on Devenementiel) to look for Thomas, which honestly that's a good friend move so respect for that... but that is a full grown adult, not a child, and you dont even know if something actually happened to him. I'm sorry but here the job should take priority, it makes no sense for everyone to halt their work day and waste time (with a relevant project !! with the town hall !! in their hands !!) cause someone didnt come in.

Sending everyone to just look around the city is... so stupid? how big is Amoris? 1km square? for them to think that they can wander around and magically find him? ????

Now the ending was just... what the actual fuck.

I don't think the writing team is truly aware of how badly Thomas is portrayed. First of all, if you have a motorbike accident that is serious enough to leave the morotbike destroyed like they describe it: you do not walk away like nothing happened! Talking from experience, even a relatively small accident can leave you badly injured. And from what is being described in the episode Thomas should have been hospitalized! It makes no sense. Second of all, who in their right damn mind leaves a demaged vehicle in the middle of the street and walks away to buy a replacement? That is a fine, that is a public safely issue, a general safety hazard and a traffic obstruction, who does that ?! "He is socially unaware!" no, that is being straight up stupid and a jerk.

Y'all are portraying Thomas as an egocentric, careless, and self centered guy that does not care for anything or anyone around him other than himself, an irresponsible person that does not care if his actions are detrimental to his job or colleagues. And if we put this together with episode 8 showing him as someone with zero respect for boundaries or privacy and that will stalk coworkers with no remorse, yeah you're making a wonderful love interest.

And this pisses me off, this feels out of character. Thomas is such a fun and interesting and cute love interest, he could have one of the best romance stories in the game, why would you paint him like this? I'm sure that the intention was a "haha silly guy doesn't understand!" moment but y'all definitely don't know how to write that.

And I don't think this is "reading too much into it", cause you can see it all in plain sight. And also, analyzing shit and "reading too much into something" is fun for me.

This episode could have been so fun. It could have been a silly misunderstanding with some days off that Thomas takes to go to a competition (maybe we initially could think that he had an accident because a similar bike had one that morning! or because he had been complaining about motor issues and being wary of a potential accident!). In his route we could go see him and he could tell us about his hobby, and in other routes we could do something related to the other character's interests. We could get to know more about them, its an appropiate episode topic for the place that we are in in the relationships and its just cute and fun.

But anyway, I unfortunately could not play Jason's route myself and I had to watch it somewhere else instead, which honestly pissed me the fuck off cause i can't afford a replay at all. The special scene was cute, I liked the tone and how Jason sounded like he was trying to play it cool with all the "heh i just did it to show im better" (i can see right through you silly man). Ngl im sad i dont have the scene to replay it u-u

Thomas' illustration was my favorite by far, both him and Ysaline look gorgeous fr fr

[alwritey-aphrodite]

Hiiiii!!! I’ve got a whole book load of ideas for this pathetic man named Carmy Berzatto but this one’s been in my head for a while. Basically they aren’t together (yet wink wink ;)) but reader keeps a sketchbook around and has a few drawings of Carmy because how can you not wanna draw his sad doe eyes. One day they leave it behind and Carmy finds the drawings and is flustered that someone would wanna draw him.

He can also confront reader for some tension but this boi just needs to be drawn like a French girl and given some love.

Happy writing btw!

Thank you for this request!!! I would love to hear more of your ideas if you’d like to share them hehehe

You are going to murder your best friend.

He’s incredibly irritating, in ways he doesn’t even realize. He’s disgustingly caring, keeping his fridge stocked with snacks and drinks that only you like, remembering books you’d wanted to get and dropping them at your front door, taking you around Chicago to find the best art supply stores. He even comes with you whenever you want to take a trip to the art museum, not because he enjoys the art but because the thought of you being there alone makes him anxious.

Not only is he upsettingly kind, he’s also nauseatingly gorgeous. Sometimes it’s a little hard to look at him, you’re so worried your heart is going to stop. You love every little thing about him, every tidbit and quirk you learn loving stored away in your mind to turn over when you can’t sleep. You can’t stay away from him, but you’re not sure how much more of him you can take.

“Wanna go down to the park with me?” You lean yourself across his counter as he cuts the fruit you’d just bought at the farmer’s market. You’re perfectly capable of doing it yourself, but he didn’t even ask, and you’re sure he knows more than you do when it comes to making produce last longer. Plus, this just means you get to stare at his hands and his arms and that face he makes when he’s focusing.

“Why?” He asks, not even bothering to look up at you, not because he doesn’t care but because he’s desperately trying to impress you with his knife skills, as if he doesn’t run one of the best restaurants in the city.

“I have to practice my figure drawing,” you tap the front cover of your sketchbook for emphasis, hoping he hears the gentle thudding even if he doesn’t see it.

“I’m almost done,” he says, instead of reminding you of how hot it is and how little free time he has, because he’d do anything for you, even if you didn’t ask, even if he only suspected you wanted something, he’d make it happen.

It's not long after that the two of you are sitting on a scorching park bench, roasting underneath the sun. You’re sure Carmy’s bored and sweating, and you know he has a million other things he could be doing right now, but he’s sitting next to you in the blazing heat while you try and find a clean page in your sketchbook.

You flip to a clear page, searching the park for someone interesting to draw when you see a laughing baby a few feet away, the high-pitched noise bringing a smile to your face. You try your best to capture that particular joy that you’re almost certain only babies are capable of feeling, and it’s not your best work, but your only glad was to get more comfortable with live references and exploring emotions. Plus, Carmy is much too distracting. He’s got his head tilted towards the sun, eyes shut against the light that illuminates the slope of his nose and the curve of his jaw, making him look nothing short of godly. You’re not sure how you get away with all this staring, but you don’t want your luck to run out, so you turn back to your paper and search the park for someone else to draw.

After a runner, an elderly couple, and a young woman crying, you close the cover of your sketchbook as your fingers start to cramp. You rest your hands on top of the cover, trying your hardest to deter the breeze from disturbing your pages the way it ruffles Carmy’s curls. As close as you are, you never want Carny to see your sketchbook, beyond the few pages you’ve already shown him.

Most of the pages are full of him, different angles and emotions and parts of his body. There’s a page dedicated to his hands, to his curls, to those beautifully expressive eyes. You’re certain that you could draw him from memory and have every slope and curve and angle be absolutely perfect. Those drawings are your reminder that you’re talented, that you have skills that you’ve practiced for years and years and that your art is good, whether you always think that or not, but you’d die if Carmy ever saw them.

Friends don’t secretly fill pages and pages with drawings of their friend, because it’s strange and a little creepy and reveals feelings you’d rather keep hidden. Really, you’re not sure how you get away with staring at Carny so often, ogling without so much as a glance from him, but you can’t help yourself. You’re friends with the most beautiful man in existence, of course you’re going to stare when he’s focused or distracted and won’t notice the stars in your eyes.

It’s not until hours later, after you’ve returned to your own apartment and you finally get around to unloading the bag you’d been carrying all day, that you realize your sketchbook is missing. You know for a fact that you carried it back from the park, mindful of the reassuring weight of it in your hands, and you immediately know you must have forgotten to put it back in your bag after you’d stopped at Carmy’s to cool down before making your way back to your apartment. You can practically see it on his countertop, all of your most closely guarded secrets left unprotected. You’re halfway through your spiral about needing to pack up and move away forever to save yourself from the mortification of Carmy knowing how you feel when there’s a knock on your door.

You open it without thinking, immediately regretting your decision when you see Carmy on the other side, looking rather disheveled. Your mind comes up completely blank as you struggle to form a sentence, trying to decide between playing it cool and pleading for forgiveness.

“You’re really talented,” he tells you, offering the sketchbook out to you. You can tell by his tone, by the fact that he sounds like he’s choking, that he’s seen the drawings. You take the book, the weight heavy in your hands without any of its security. You feel raw and exposed, ripped apart and stomped on, but you step back and open the door farther anyway, walking towards your kitchen and hoping Carmy follows.

“I’m sorry,” you settle on a simple apology, not certain you’d be able to articulate anything more, because how are you supposed to explain to your best friend that you’re so in love with him you can’t help but commit him to memory, can’t help but fill pages and pages with just his figure because you love him so much it’s like your body and soul are being taken over by some force you’re completely unable to control as your pencil glides across the page?

“Don’t be,” he clears his throat, fingers fidgeting against the back of a chair, “they’re really good,” he pauses, lips working silently like he can’t quite push out the words, “I don’t understand.”

“You’re my muse, I guess,” you force out an awkward chuckle, trying your hardest to be funny so you don’t have a breakdown, “I dunno, it’s just easy for me.”

Drawing him, loving him, comes naturally to you, like it’s something you’ve been doing your whole life. You know him, every slope and curve and angle, every shadow, you know him so well he seems like a part of you. He’s trying to process, you can tell by the way he works his jaw back and forth, and you’d be committing this moment to memory to add to your pages and pages of drawings if you weren’t so nervous. You’re going to have to let him go when all you want to do is keep him with you forever.

“No one’s ever done anything like that.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize lamely, because you’re not sure what else to say.

“It’s not a bad thing,” he clarifies, seeming like he’s finally getting his thoughts in order, “I don’t mind, I just wish I’d known.”

“Well, now you do,” you feel a little stung, wishing for something more than indifference, rage or elation or any strong feeling at all.

“I’ve gotta go, early morning tomorrow,” he says and you just nod, because you’re not sure what else to say. You’re still standing in the kitchen when you hear your door open and gently shut again, leaving you alone once more. You feel weightless and weighed down at the same time, and you speed through the rest of your nighttime routine, desperate to crawl into bed.

It's not until you’re passing by your front door to make sure it’s locked that you see the containers of cut-up fruit Carmy had left for you.

Tagging people who seemed interested :) @onceuponaoneshotfanfic @yxtkiwiyxt @veryprairieberry

[wikiangela]

tease tidbit tuesday/wip wednesday

tagged by @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @tizniz @diazsdimples @dangerpronebuddie @spotsandsocks @exhuastedpigeon @underwaterninja13 - tagging y'all back for wip wednesday 💖💖

doing two in one bc it's technically wednesday already idc lol - started a new wip I mentioned before (inspired by this video lol) and rn I'm rewriting what I wrote yesterday bc the past two days words were not wording and I hated everything I wrote, but I think I'm happy with it now haha I hope I'll manage to write it like I want to bc it's sooo good in my head istg haha

(wasn't gonna post until i have more but i need validation before i drive myself crazy over this lol)

___

It started as a random idea, more like a throwaway thought, really. Tommy was just checking the weather for the next few days – his hot pilot boyfriend always likes to be prepared – while they were hanging out, and he casually mentioned that “it’s gonna be nice on Saturday, perfect barbecue weather,” which got Buck to mention how they often have family barbecues at Bobby and Athena’s. Somehow, the conversation spiraled, and Buck’s not sure who threw out a more concrete idea, but here they are now, standing side by side in Tommy’s kitchen, preparing food – Buck’s currently slicing veggies for a salad, while Tommy takes care of the meat – for the barbecue where they invited way too many people than Tommy’s backyard can probably fit. It really is nice weather, the sliding door leading from the kitchen to the backyard open and letting in warm sunshine and a soft breeze that makes the air feel cooler. They work in pleasant silence, the only sound is quiet music playing from the speaker, and Buck can’t help a fond smile when he hears his boyfriend hum along, so off-key Buck’s not sure he even knows the song, but it’s still adorable.

The silence is disrupted by the doorbell ringing, and before Tommy can even move, Buck is dropping the knife on the cutting board, wiping his hands, and sprinting towards the door, shouting an “I got it!” over his shoulder. He’s followed by an echo of Tommy’s fondly amused chuckles. So he’s a little excited, sue him – they haven’t had a family day like this in a while, and there was only one he brought Tommy to, all of their schedules not so easy to align. And today his whole family will be here, including their spouses and children, and Tommy invited a couple of his friends and their families, too, and it’ll be just a big, loud, chaotic get-together that he’s hosting with his boyfriend. Buck never hosted one of these before, and he’s really enjoying it so far, and he just wants everyone to have fun.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck

@eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life

@diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @weewootruck @loveyouanyway

@spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove

@nmcggg @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @bidisasterevankinard @giddyupbuck

@sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings

@buddieswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @your-catfish-friend

@daffi-990 @hoodie-buck @aroeddiediaz

[lilacmingi]

STUPID CUPID

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Cupid!Jisung x human!fem reader

Word count: 4,000

Note: Happy Valentines Day you guys! This is an idea that’s been floating around in my mind for a month or two and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to write it. It’s Jisung’s first day on the job and he accidentally shoots himself with his own arrow (silly boy!) 🏹

Valentines Day. A capitalist holiday that took advantage of people's romantic feelings for one another and profited from it. Teddy bears, heart-shaped balloons, jewelry, cards, roses, even heart-shaped pizzas. You shook your head at the thought of people going above and beyond for their significant others. While it was sweet, you often wondered why people didn't do that on any other day of the year. You shouldn't need a special holiday to do something nice for the one you love.

Valentines Day. An unnecessary day for couples to rub their relationships in everyone's faces and a complete waste of time and money. The only thing you liked about it was the chocolate. That's what led you outside on this godforsaken holiday. You may dislike Valentines Day, but there was nothing wrong with treating yourself to a little candy.

Your eyes roamed the large section of sweets, catching a glimpse of a middle-aged man with an armful of Valentines goodies hastily snag a heart-shaped box of truffles before brushing past you towards the register. You shook your head. Looks like someone forgot to get something for their sweetheart.

Your index finger hovered over a section displaying your favorite chocolate, your mouth watering at the sight. When it came to treating yourself to snacks, you hardly had boundaries, always grabbing whatever it was you wanted without giving it a second thought. Besides, you worked hard for the money you earned and you intended to spend it.

Perusing the aisle for a few more seconds, you grabbed some other favorite sweets of yours before heading to the chip aisle for a salty snack for later after you get into all the chocolate. Any time you overindulged on sweets you found yourself scouring the pantry for something salty to balance it out and vice versa. It was a never-ending cycle sometimes.

With an armful of snacks and sweets to last you two weeks, you headed to the register where a teenage boy stood, typing away on his phone. You didn't mean to be nosey, but your eyes instinctively glanced down at his phone screen only to see a plethora of hearts spammed on iMessage.

The boy was quick to lift his head, locking his phone and shoving it into his pocket while sputtering apologizes.

"Sorry about that. I, uh, have a date tonight with my girlfriend."

"That's nice." You smiled, trying to be polite.

You weren't sure why he decided to say that, as you were a total stranger, but it was nothing to get upset over. He could've been caught off guard by your presence and blurted that just because he was nervous, or perhaps this relationship was fairly new and he was just excited about going on a date. Either way, you put on a friendly smile and acted as if that little tidbit of information didn't bother you.

The automatic doors to the store slid open as you walked out with a plastic bag in your hand loaded with delicious candy and junk food that you couldn't wait to get into once you arrived home.

Jisung was brimming with excitement. His first Valentines Day on the job. He had spent an entire year training for this and he couldn't contain his enthusiasm. He counted his arrows three times to make sure he had enough, and if he happened to run out, he could always conjure up more. He checked the heart-shaped watch strapped to his wrist, tapping the touch screen to make sure everything was working and in tiptop shape.

"Han Jisung."

The cupid perked up upon hearing his name, standing at attention.

"You don't have to do that." Minho informed him, his expression showing little to no emotion.

"Sorry."

Minho was one of Jisung's friends and had been working as a cupid for years. He was professional, experienced, and knew everything there was to know about being a cupid. Jisung looked up to him and always asked questions when he had them.

"You're on the clock in approximately two minutes. Are you ready?"

"I'm more than ready." Jisung responded confidently. "I'm prepared. I'm equipped. I'm all set. I'm hot to trot!"

Minho gave his friend a once-over before responding with, "O...kay."

Jisung's shoulders relaxed as he let out a deep exhale. "I'm a little nervous."

"Everyone always is on their first day. It's normal."

"What if I do something wrong?"

"You won't."

Jisung nodded, hoping Minho was right.

Minutes later, Jisung found himself perched in a tree, his legs swinging back and forth while he waited for his watch to go off.

The cupid chose to bide his time by wondering who his first client would be—that's what they refer to their targets as. After all, "clients" is a much less morbid term.

Would they be a boy? A girl? Younger? Older? Maybe someone who hasn't found love yet and is still waiting for the right person? Oh, Jisung would love to help someone, both young and old, start a new and exciting chapter in their life.

His train of thought was derailed immediately as soon as you came sauntering down the sidewalk. His eyes followed you for much longer than he intended, unable to look away. He had seen humans before but none of them were as entrancing as you.

His watch beeped, bringing his attention back to the task at hand. He tapped the small screen and an image of a young woman was displayed on it. The heart-shaped watch was technologically advanced and would pick up the presence of an approaching individual that was set to be struck with a love arrow. Each watch was programmed specifically for the cupid that wore it.

Jisung reached for his quiver strapped to his back and pulled an arrow from it, sliding it into place on his bow. Rearing back, he aimed the bow clutched in his hands, releasing a breath before subsequently releasing the arrow, watching as it hit his intended target in the back. She stopped in her tracks, jostling slightly due to an invisible force which she couldn't see.

A man was headed down the street towards the woman just a few seconds later, an image of him promptly flashing on Jisung's watch. The cupid was quick to jump into action, pulling out another arrow and sliding it into place. He aimed and waited for the man to get closer to the woman before shooting the arrow. The man jerked a bit, bumping into the woman who was unable to pay attention to her surroundings due to Jisung's previous love arrow seconds earlier. Perfect timing.

He watched from his spot in the trees as they both sputtered apologies to each other with gleaming smiles on their faces along with a shared lovestruck expression.

I did it. Jisung thought to himself proudly.

He watched as the woman said something to the man and next thing he knew, the both of them were walking off down the street together towards a coffee shop. A fond smile graced his features as he watched the couple until they entered the cafe.

Jisung then began looking around for the human girl that garnered his attention—you. When he couldn't find you, he left his post, flying above the streets while heading in the direction he saw you walking.

When he spotted you (thankfully not far away from where he last saw you) he decided to follow, wanting just one more glimpse of you since he got distracted earlier.

Jisung's bottom lip stuck out in a disappointed pout when you entered a building and he could no longer see you.

Before he could try and find out which floor you were headed to, his watch went off again, tearing his attention away from you for the second time.

The cupid glanced at his watch to see who his next client was. Loading a love arrow into his bow, he diligently aimed and released it, repeating the process when an image of his second client flashed on the screen of his watch. The two began talking which brought a smile to Jisung's face. He heard stories from other cupids about Valentines Day and how fulfilling it was to watch their clients fall in love after being struck with one of their magic arrows. He dreamed of the day he would be able to do what his seniors did and now he was. It was just as fulfilling as Jisung imagined, however, he had something else on his mind now and that was trying to locate you... again.

His eyes searched the many windows in the apartment building, hoping to see you in one of them. There were at least ten floors and twice as many windows. Jisung had no clue how he would find you.

Just when he thought all hopes were dashed, he caught a glimpse of you through one of the glass panes. You were stood inside, gazing out the window at the streets below.

He promptly flew over and made himself comfortable on the grated platform of the fire escape that was mounted to the side of your apartment building.

He was thankful humans couldn't see cupids or else you'd be really freaked out to see a stranger perched outside your window. If a cupid wanted to be seen, they would show themselves and right now, Jisung preferred to stay hidden.

Your eyes followed the figure of a delivery man walking down the street with a large bouquet of roses in his arms.

What is it like to receive flowers from someone? You wondered.

The man made his way up the steps of someone's home, knocking on the front door that was pulled opened seconds later. A woman stood in the entryway, astonishment and joy flashing across her features at the sight of the ruby-colored blossoms.

"Must be nice." You commented aloud.

Back in school, you'd see girls walking around with a heart-shaped balloon and a box of chocolates or a stuffed teddy bear and a single rose. Of course, you were never one of those girls and a small part of you always wondered what it was like to receive something like that from someone.

Oh well. You had chocolate and tons of delicious snacks, you didn't need flowers. Stepping away from the living room window, you dropped down on the couch and opened up YouTube on your TV, searching for something entertaining to watch. After settling on a new video from one of your favorite content creators, you began sifting through your bag of treats, completely unaware that someone was watching.

Jisung's wide eyes observed you in fascination as you unwrapped a piece of chocolate and popped it into your mouth, savoring the sweet taste.

He knew humans often indulged in chocolate and junk food on Valentine's Day, but that was usually for the ones that were single... which meant you were alone. On second thought, maybe alone wasn't the right word, as you seemed rather content to be by yourself.

The cupid's watch went off again, startling him from his daze and simultaneously catching him off guard. He scrambled to grab an arrow, fumbling to load it into his bow. He spared a hasty glance at the image on his watch before launching the arrow, except it didn't soar through the air towards his target. Instead, it went directly into Jisung's chest. He had loaded the arrow backwards.

"Ah!" He yelped, snapping his head towards your window, momentarily worried you had heard him. However, he was quick to remember that he was invisible.

With one concern out of the way, he pulled the arrow from his chest cavity and retrieved a new one from his quiver, hastily loading it before aiming at his client. He nearly missed but managed to get a hit. Not a second later, his watch went off again. This time, he was paying attention and was able to execute his actions with no hiccups.

He breathed out a sigh of relief only to glance down at the arrow he discarded moments earlier, lying on the grates of the fire escape.

He gasped.

That's right. He shot himself with his own love arrow.

"Oh no." He grabbed his hair, tugging on the roots in a stressful manner. "Oh no."

He spared a glance towards you, still sitting peacefully on the couch watching TV.

"No!" He covered his eyes.

He wasn't supposed to look at anyone.

Now you've done it. He thought despairingly.

He was totally screwed.

"Okay, okay." He slowly released the breath he was holding in, talking out loud in order to calm himself down. "Don't panic."

He was totally panicking.

The first thing that came to mind was that he needed to notify Minho. His heart dropped to his feet at the thought, the color promptly draining from his face.

Oh no. Minho.

He placed a hand on his chest, feeling his rapid pulse beneath it.

"This isn't good. I can already feel my heart racing. The effects are already starting to take place."

He hung his head, muttering to himself while he tried to figure out what to do. Jisung knew telling Minho would be the right thing to do, but he didn't want to. If he did, he'd surely get an earful from the older cupid.

Maybe the symptoms wouldn't get bad. In fact, maybe they'd just go away.

Your loud laughter captured Jisung's attention and pulled him out of his worry-induced thoughts. Head thrown back against the couch cushions, you were clutching your stomach, letting your joyful laughter fill the apartment.

Jisung couldn't help but smile, the sound of your giggles sparking happiness and adoration within him.

Yeah, maybe he would hold off on telling Minho.

Days passed and Jisung's escapades continued. He would leave Cupid Headquarters and go off to see you, peering into your apartment from the window by the fire escape. From his vantage point, he had a good view of the open kitchen where he watched you cook meals for yourself.

He picked up on your little habits and things you did without a second thought.

Jisung's heart fluttered at the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed at something on TV or the way you spoke your thoughts aloud, giving your own commentary to no one at all.

A week was all it took for Jisung to spill the beans. While perched on the grated floor of the fire escape, he became self-aware of all the emotions he was feeling and how incredibly strong they were. Any time he looked at you it felt like a his chest was struck with an iron fist, taking his breath away. The need to be closer to you, to speak to you was so strong it was almost beyond his control.

He was infatuated.

"Minho!" Jisung shouted, rushing over to his friend and coworker, his wings flapping as fast as they possibly could.

Minho huffed, rolling his eyes. "What?"

The younger cupid came to a halt. "I did something terrible."

"I'm sure it's nothing."

"No, no. It's bad." Jisung dropped his head into his hands. "I shot myself with my own arrow. I can't believe I was so stupid! The effects are in full force. It's not working as fast as with humans but I'm really feeling it. You see, there's this girl and oh... every time I see her my heart races and I find myself watching her go about her daily life. She's so beautiful and I can't stop thinking about her. She's on my mind 24/7. I'm really falling hard, Minho. I don't know what to do. Please help me."

"Love arrows don't work on cupids." Minho produced an answer in a dead delivery, his eyes blinking languidly.

Jisung's rambling was put to an immediate halt as he stared wide-eyed at the older cupid.

"What?"

"We're immune."

"So..." Jisung trailed off. "I didn't screw up?"

"No."

"If the arrow doesn't effect me, then what does that mean?"

"It means you're in love with a human."

Jisung blinked owlishly. "In love?"

"You're a cupid, Hannie. We tend to fall in love very quickly."

"What do I do?"

"For starters, you could introduce yourself."

"I can do that?"

"If you want to. There's no rules against it. Love is love, after all."

Jisung was left to figure out how he was going to go about this whole situation and how to approach you. He laid back on his bed, running his fingers through his silver hair, releasing a sigh.

He didn't even know your name.

Maybe he could give you your favorite chocolate, assuming that's what you were indulging in when he saw you for the first time on Valentines Day.

He expelled another sigh. No. He needed something else—something better.

"Come on." He murmured.

He had been secretly admiring you for a while, surely there was something he was able to learn about you during that time.

Suddenly, a lightbulb went off and Jisung sat upright with wide eyes that glimmered with elation.

Flowers.

He'll never forget that look of longing on your face as you watched that delivery man bring a bouquet to a woman across the street.

Now all that was left was figure out how he was going to introduce himself without freaking you out.

He smirked to himself.

"I could use my undeniable charms and that thing Minho said humans say. What was it again?"

"Rizz! Can you believe it?" Minho exclaimed exasperatedly, shaking his head. "I can't believe humans are using such a ridiculous word."

"What does rizz mean?"

"It's short for charisma."

Jisung hummed, nodding.

"I'm gonna rizz him up." Minho mocked, rolling his eyes. "It's embarrassing. Honestly."

"Rizz." Jisung repeated with a sly grin. "Yeah."

Wait. Did he even have rizz?

The cupid groaned in frustration. This shouldn't be complicated.

Jisung returned to your apartment the following day to put his plan in motion. The window to your living room was cracked ever so slightly. Not exactly smart or safe on your part, but convenient for Jisung who entered with ease.

In his arms was the prettiest bouquet of roses he could find. Little white tufts of baby's breath were placed throughout the arrangement which sat beautifully in a vase.

The cupid placed the arrangement on your coffee table so you could see the flowers as soon as you got home, taking a moment to spread out the cluster of crimson blossoms and make it look presentable.

Now all he had to do was wait.

You stepped into your apartment and dropped your keys into the glass dish by the door, releasing a short sigh, thankful to be home. The shoes on your feet were kicked off without a care as to where they landed while you shuffled into your living room, coming to a stop when you noticed a bouquet of flowers sitting on your coffee table.

You looked down at them perplexed, wondering how they got inside your apartment.

"Who are these from?" You wondered aloud, searching the bunch of blossoms for a card or something that indicated who the sender was.

"Me."

You jumped at the sound of another person's voice, spinning on your heel to find a man sitting on the windowsill in your living room.

Assessing his appearance, you could only assume he was some cosplayer getting paid to dress as Cupid and deliver flowers. Though this guy seemed to take a more modern approach, wearing a pair of white slacks and a pale pink shirt made of delicate tulle fabric, but the set of wings on his back was a dead giveaway.

Oh geez. Surely he wasn't one of those singing telegrams.

Wait. How did he get in your house?

You instinctively took a step back. "Who are you and how did you get in here?"

"I'm Jisung and your window was cracked."

He could see your eyes widen and knew you were about to start freaking out or throwing things at him—or both.

"I'm not here to steal anything! I only came to bring you flowers." He assured in a rushed manner before you could do anything rash.

"Why?"

"Because..."

Jisung didn't think this through. You were clearly on edge and he wasn't making it any better. What was he supposed to say?

"I'm a cupid."

He wasn't expecting to spill the beans so soon, but it's the only thing he could think to say.

You narrowed your eyes. "I can see that, but why are you here?"

"To bring you flowers."

"So did someone pay you?"

Jisung's head tilted to the side like a confused puppy. "Pay me for what?"

"To dress up. Are you one of those people who dress like cupid and deliver things?"

"No. I don't even get paid for what I do."

"And what do you do?"

"I'm a cupid."

"With those fake wings? I don't think so."

"Do these look fake to you?" He turned, showing off the set of white wings on his back.

You were prepared to say yes when you saw them twitch.

A gasp left you. "How did you do that?"

"They're attached to me?" His response was spoken like a question.

"No." You shook your head, letting out a laugh of disbelief. "You have some sort of mechanism that makes them move."

Jisung wore a confused expression the entire time you spoke. "No."

"I don't understand."

"If you need more proof, I'll let you touch my wings." He turned again, presenting them to you.

They did look real—a little too real.

You apprehensively approached the so-called cupid, holding your hand out until it made contact with the white feathers protruding from his back. He shivered lightly under your touch, feeling the sensation of your fingers ghosting over them.

Now that you were up close, you could clearly see that the wings were coming out of his skin which was exposed due to the way the shirt was made, the fabric draping down low to reveal his (very muscular) upper back.

"Do you believe me now?"

You pulled your hand away, nodding wordlessly, unable to speak.

"I'm sorry if I scared you. You see, I first saw you on Valentines Day and ever since then I've been observing you from right there." He pointed to the metal fire escape just outside the living room window.

What? No. You would've known if someone was watching, especially if they were right outside your window.

"I never saw you."

"Cupids can't be seen unless they want to be. That's how we do our jobs."

Just as you were prepared to question him, he disappeared, causing you to stumble back in surprise.

"Ah! Sorry, sorry!" He reappeared, apologizing profusely. "I just wanted to show some proof."

"Why were you watching me?"

The tips of Jisung's ears tinted pink.

"Well..." He chewed on his bottom lip. "I like you. I just learned that cupids tend to fall for people quickly which is why I couldn't seem to stay away. Once I laid eyes on you, it was like a magnet was pulling me."

This was a lot to process.

"I needed a way to introduce myself and I saw the way you looked at that delivery guy with the flowers on Valentines Day, so I thought a bouquet of roses would be a nice gift."

He was watching you then? Suddenly you felt a little embarrassed.

"I've never received flowers from someone."

"Well, now you have. I would've added a card but I don't know your name."

"It's Y/n."

At last, the pretty girl Jisung had been swooning over had a name.

"Well, Y/n, I'm sorry for startling you. I'll let myself out."

"Don't leave."

He paused.

"You can't just tell me you're a cupid and not expect me to have questions."

A bright grin spread across Jisung's face. "What do you want to know?"

No part 2

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi @weird-bookworm @poppy2007 @parkjennykim @evidive @mxlly143 @lizzymizzy-blogg @minhanbyeol @dinossaurz

[sleepingingarden]

What's ur Au about? :3

:D thanks for asking!! it's still a major WIP that's all over the place in terms of ideas, as you'll notice, but the overall gist is that the FNAF1 and 2 animatronics have escaped into the woods and are like. camping out and killing people, and there's these paranormal investigators including Mike, a young Vanessa, and a mother of one of the missing kids, who have to track them down. If I do a comic or fic it would switch between the animatronics/spirits' perspective, and the investigators' perspective (hence the name of the AU)! There's lots more I will share about characters once I finish writing my toyhouse pages, but here's a few more tidbits and distinctions from canon that I find interesting...

The Fredbear Plush is CC/David's guardian angel instead of just William with a walkie talkie bc that's laaaame and boring!! My "Friendbear" just wanted to comfort a little boy who was being bullied but ends up getting roped into the whole mess that is FNAF, and helps Mike and the other protags free the spirits. I imagine him being like jiminy cricket or the bug from puss in boots personality-wise. Just constantly disturbed by everything from the bloodthirsty animatronics to the unethical business practices of faz ent. all while still trying to believe there is some good inside springtrap. lol

Cassidy doesn't exist---sort of? I wanted to do my own spin on Golden Duo, so In my AU Cassidy is an alter personality of David created from the agony of the Bite. She suppresses David to protect him and becomes the one in control of Golden Freddy, to Mike's dismay. I wanted her to reflect the way real alters are made from trauma. I've done a lot of research on DID in the past as I don't have it but I do want to make sure I do them justice!

In terms of how possession works, I wanted to set some clearly defined rules and terms. The investigators come up with 3 different terms to describe different types of possession---'Dependent' types, like Circus Baby, have high enough AI levels that the AI and spirit fuse and alter the spirit's identity and memories. 'Degenerative' types like Freddy are older models with lower AI; they slowly lose their memories and identity over time until they become like animals. Finally, 'Independent' types like the Puppet also have low AI levels but are able to maintain their awareness; usually through some sort of strong motive or complex unfinished business that requires more thought

Some more random changes: most of SL doesn't happen, FNAF3 and 6 are combined, the MCI happens during fall fest '83, there are no 'un-withereds,' FNAF2 is a sequel, Scrap Baby is basically Ennard, Funtime Freddy is a LEFTE stand-in

[storm-angel989]

Greetings, if I may ask, may I have a one-shot where the reader, aka his daughter(teen), comes out to valentino as aroace. Mabye she is scared he will not like her because he is known for the exact opposite if that makes sense.

If you wish to not write this, please make me aware

-L.B Creations

Hi friend,

Thank you for working with me on this! I always appreciate when a not anonymous poster asks for something I have little personal experience with. It allows me to touch base with them personally in addition to my own research so that I can better understand a perspective. I do hope I've written this story accurately, and as always- feedback is appreciated!

<3 Mandy

Aroace. 

I stared at my computer, chewing up every tidbit of information I could find. Relief washed over me. Finally, a word for it. A word that describes me.  And the more I read, the more I saw myself. For the longest time, I wondered if something was wrong with me. Why all my friends were interested in relationships, in sex and in kissing- dating and going to dances,  I had no desire to do any of that. Actually, if I was being honest with myself, the idea of sex kind of repulsed me. 

Sure I liked hugs. And I liked the idea of being held.  I had lots of friends- friends I would text every day. I could appreciate peoples looks- pretty eyes, beautiful hair, a nice set of muscles. But that didn’t mean I wanted to sleep with them. Or do anything beyond enjoying and appreciating their presence in my life. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the Spring Fling?” My father asked over breakfast yesterday morning. “I can get you a date, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Shame rushed over me and I looked down, away from the gaze of the overlord of lust and depravity. My father was known for sleeping with anything and everything- for a price. In my own household, it was known but not spoken that he was in a relationship with my Uncle Vox and Aunt Velvette. Polysexual, the internet called it. Not that a label made a difference for him. Actually, I wasn’t sure there was an accurate label for what my father did. 

That conversation was the most recent of many, many conversations between my father and I. He would encourage me to date, brought me hotel rooms I never used, and even sent Aunt Velvette to talk to me about safe sex. Although he never said it, all of his insistence left me feeling like something was wrong with me. 

It was that feeling that led me here, to the internet, desperately trying to figure out if I was broken. But according to the blogs and information I found, I wasn’t broken. Not in the slightest. I was aroace. With a sigh, I pushed myself away from the computer, my stomach in knots. I had an answer to why I felt the way I did. I had a word for it. Now I needed to tell my father. Hopefully, it would go well and he would understand.

And not kick me out. Or tell me I was broken. Or any of the thousand things that he could say. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more my anxiety grew. The overlord of sex- having an aroace daughter? Would he even accept it? Would he still love me? I swallowed back the overwhelming fear and walked over to the elevator. Two o’clock. Dad would be in his office, filing paperwork. 

“Ah! Bebita princessa,” Valentino announced as I walked into his office. “Come, come mi amore. Sit, I have several prospects for you to…”

“Daddy? Can we talk?” I asked as I sat down in the chair in front of his desk. “It’s kind of important.”

“Of course princessa, what’s on your mind?” Valentino leaned back in his chair. “I’m all yours, mi amore.” 

I took a deep breath. “Dad, I’ve felt like this for a while and I’m…I know you’ve been trying to set me up on dates and I don’t mean to be rude, I just…please just promise you’ll always love me.” I could feel my lower lip start to quiver and tears burned at the corner of my eye. 

Alarm spread across his features. In a flash, he knelt in front of me. I felt the warmth of his hand as he cupped my chin. 

“Bebita, I will always love you. What is it? Did someone hurt you?” He demanded. “Princessa, talk to Daddy.”

I felt a hiccup in my chest, a painful burn and I took a deep breath. Now or never. 

“Daddy, I think I’m aroace. I, I don’t like anyone romantically, I just…” My words trailed off into a dissolve of tears. 

He wrapped his arms around me and I leaned into his shoulder and cried. 

“Settle yourself, ninita,” he said softly. “Shussh. Daddy loves you. Daddy isn’t mad. I would never be.”

“Please don’t force me to try it, the internet said…” I sobbed into his shoulder. “Daddy, I…”

“I would never, mi amore,” he reassured gently. “If aroace is what you identify as, then I won’t push to set you up on dates. I would have never done so if that’s how you feel. Hey, bebita, look at me.”

I raised my head up from his shoulder and rubbed my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt. I tried to catch my breath, but dissolved again into a sobbing mess of tears. He sighed and took me into his arms again. 

“Reader. Reader. It’s okay, I’m not upset with you- you are who you are, and I love you for that,” he said as he rubbed my back. “I would never not.”

“How is it gonna look, the overlord of lust’s daughter doesn’t want anything to do with sex?” I choked out. 

I felt him chuckle, a low rumble in his chest. 

“Who gives a fuck what the rest of the world thinks? You’re my daughter. You’re all that matters,” he said as he ran a hand down my hair. “Come on now, deep breath. I love you very much. And I always will.”

[tanuki-kimono]

Hello! I love your blog bc it helps me a lot with writing and crafting. Thank you so much for making it!

Are there any patterns that deal with poison? Either in the pattern or in the dyeing process?

Even if there's not I'm glad you and this blog exist 💗

(anon continues) Poison in the dyeing process, like when green dresses were dyed with copper arsenite and it was extremely deadly.

Or a pattern of someone being poisoned, like a historical/folktale.

_______________________________________

Thank you for your kind words <3 I tried to keep things organized but the subject is huge so my of the top of my head answer is going in many directions. I hope you'll still find what you need :3

I'll briefly cover here dyes and (pigments), poison motifs, real life and supernatural poisonings. Buckle up we've got a long post ahead!

____ ABOUT DYE

Tbh I had to think for a moment because I don't recall major "poison" stories linked to dyes in Japan, be it fictionous or real (yet that doesn't mean none ever happened, especially considering Japan's history of industrial poisonings...).

Most gruesome details in the fabric industries I know of are about the horrific life & work conditions of female laborers in spinning mill manufactures (as in many countries, Japan industrialization process was ghastly...).

If potters and dyers had excellent practical knowledge, chemistry as a science officially started kind of late in Japan as it was not a local interest, and as rangaku (study of Western knowledge) often favored other subjects like medicine or warfare.

So, until the introduction of aniline dyes (not textile related, but this article about the use of synthetic dyes in ukiyoe printing is super interesting), Japanese worked with "natural" dyes, like ai (indigo) which was the most used during Edo period.

As with any ingredient, being natural doesn't equal safety. Some mixtures could be quite potent/foul, and process could be dangerous. Plants and minerals base ingredients could be toxic (cinnabar and orpiments were then used as paint pigments, and lead could be found in make up), as were mordants used to set colors.

If you want to easily overview which ingredients were used to create colors, I recommand browsing [Irocore] which presents colors with explanation in English in their database (pick a color then scroll down).

Not related to poison, but ai (indigo) is traditionally prepared in aigame/enormous floor set jars I find utterly terrifying:

I don't know if this tidbit can help you, but some dyes and mordants actually damage the fabric overtime, leaving them brittle (silk desintegrates after a while which is a huge issue in textile conservation).

____ POISON MOTIFS

Concerning "poison" themed patterns, none would be actually used traditionally on a kimono or an obi beside novelty items ^^;

For example, many plants can be toxic, but I don't see them set as pattern for this property - they'd rather refer to a poem, be a symbol of the passing of seasons etc. Fuji (wisteria) can be quite harmful, yet it's a beloved traditional motif in Japan.

You have much more chances to find pattern with kujaku (peacock) which are thought to be impervious to poison in Buddhism, than say venomous mukade (centipede) or the horrific ômukade (a youkai I covered in a folktale).

Snakes like the habu and mamushi are dangerous, but if used as pattern snakes are most often auspicious and linked to rain dragons or goddess Benzaiten.

If you squint hard, toxic fugu could count as poison pattern, but such a seasonal delicacy as a motif would mostly underline wealth (as those fishes are pretty expensive as they are prepared by specialized chefs), a kind of carpe diem spirit, or just a fun pattern because fugu balloon shape is cute ;)

____ POISON MURDERS

Poisoning was certainly a thing is Japan since ancient times (see kodoku sorcery). Poisons were for example used in some fishing techniques.

I am pretty sure some kuge and buke were disposed of this way - even thought poison was seen as a coward weapon (hence why its supposed to be only used by shinobi/ninja - even if this "fact" is opened to a lot of discussions!).

During Edo period, such murders made up the news and penny dreadful-like illustrated books favored by city dwellers in need of a fright. But those stories didn't pass to posterity beside cheap ukiyoe plates, and were never as popular as some shinjû (double suicides) or ghost revenges like poor poisoned and murdered Oiwa's:

____ SUPERNATURAL POISONINGS

If your poison is both physical and metaphorical illbeing, mushi could be your guys ^^ This term actually covers everything small and crawling, from real worms and insects, to anything inside one's body causing distress - be it a parasite, an unknown illness, an overboard emotion, a curse etc. If you've read/seen Mushishi you've got what I mean:

In fact any illness-causing being could count as poison-bringer. Hôsôkami (smallpox demon) was truly feared by all before vaccination was introduced in Japan.

Finally, continuing the supernatural poisoning trail, best girl is probably legendary fox witch Tamamo no Mae who among other terrible deeds made emperor Konoe fall sick with poisonous miasma (some version of the story attributes the disease to another monster, the nue). I covered a similar murderous kitsune folktale here.

[fuckinart]

I NEED to know more about this fursuit AU, I am so in love with this concept.

and just to make sure, you're cool with others doodling your idea? With proper credit of course!

I am 100% okay with other people running with my fandom ideas, yeah!

my cat chewed through my wacom cords & I'm still waiting on one of the new ones to come in, so unfortunately I can't make a proper reference sheet (hence sticky note art lately), but I'd love to see other people's takes on a fursuit au!

I don't have much lore to the idea yet since I. haven't really thought about it that much. the idea itself is partially based off of this post.

personally (prepare for infodump) the general idea for the fic I'm vaguely writing as of the other night (which will be posted to @daddyplasmius if I ever finish it) is that Tucker decides to get into fursuit making with the help of his mom & they finish the first one, a partial badger fursuit (just handpaws, a tail, & the head), the day Danny has The Accident. him, Tuck, & Sam are fucking around while Danny models the fursuit with his hazmat & then it kinda gets melded to his ghost form along with the hazmat when he "dies" in the Portal. I don't really have a plot tbh things are just happening

like Wulf, the costume kind of became him? if that makes sense? he can bite people is what I'm saying. the fursuit itself, after the Accident, slowly changes as Danny's ghost form stabilizes & becomes less of a suit & more of a ghost badger.

ngl I tried opening stuff with my paws on to see how hard it would be to use the Thermos & surprisingly it's not that hard, you just have to use your palm, so he still has the Thermos. I also think in this au Vlad looks like a vampire because he "died" on Halloween while in costume. or you could make him an 80's furry idk. still brainstorming & messing around with stuff

I based the design off of the European badger but I inverted the colours. still tweaking the design but inverted: the neck is white, tail is white with black on the end, paws are white with white claws & green pads, & the nose & eyes are also green. all the green parts used to be pink/red & the other parts used to either be silvery or just the opposite of what they are now.

I'm working on several other fics right now, so not sure when exactly I may (or may not) post this, but here's a tidbit from the prologue:

the paws..........

[wolfawaycamp]

🐼 write something for your fave rarepair?

🐼EMMALYN TIME

The campers were running late. Again. And it was all due to Emma’s insistence on providing a true, in-depth theatre experience for the kiddos. That was all fine and dandy, but Kaitlyn was gonna blow a gasket if she had to endure another one of Ryan’s passive-aggressive comments about them being behind schedule.

Normally, Kaitlyn was pretty patient and waited outside the lodge, but today she barged right in.

“Ah, perfect timing!” Emma smiled as Kaitlyn entered the room. The campers were already in the process of lining up to leave. Good. “Remember what I told you about teamwork when you go down to the boathouse! It’s all about communication and cooperation! Now fly free, my beautiful butterflies,” she finished with a flourish of her hands, imitating the fluttering of wings.

After the group of kids had been walked down to Ryan (he was in a good mood, which meant he’d live to see another day), Kaitlyn went back to visit Emma. They both had an early lunch on Thursdays, so they’d spend time chatting and catching up on counselor drama.

Emma was cleaning up props that had been strewn about when Kaitlyn returned; she moved in a dance-like fashion, humming as she worked.

“Hey, Em.”

Kaitlyn almost felt rude interrupting, but Emma glanced up at her with that same enthusiastic grin. “Hey cutie. Come by to get a taste of today’s lesson?” She strode toward where Kaitlyn was standing.

“Something about teamwork, right? You teaching them to trust fall?”

“How did you know?” Emma purred.

“I did a bit of theatre in high school.” It wasn’t technically a lie, but the truth was that Kaitlyn had done summer pantomime workshops while Jacob was at football camp, or whatever they called it. She may have been a tad embarrassed about that little tidbit of Kaitlyn Lore.

Emma frowned. “Oh? And you didn’t pursue it in college?”

“Didn’t have time for it,” Kaitlyn stated plainly. Now this was a lie. College was a pipe dream for her, and she was content fixing cars and working at run-down summer camps to make ends meet for the time being.

“Well…you’ve got time now.”

Kaitlyn cocked her head to the side and smirked. “You want me to fall into your arms like a poor damsel in distress?”

A light giggle escaped from Emma’s mouth. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no to that. Buuuut…” she pursed her lips and looked off to the side, “…we could try something different, since we’re alone.”

That didn’t sound ideal. “I didn’t take you for that kind of woman, Emma Mountebank,” Kaitlyn declared, feigning shock. Part of her was sure Emma was just being Emma, but another part of her knew that camp counselors were ticking time bombs of repressed sexual energy. Perhaps this was an extremely forward proposition. Don’t flatter yourself, bucko.

“Cute,” Emma remarked, “but I was thinking something more along the lines of…intimacy coordination. Basically, making sure two actors portraying a romantic duo are comfortable and have clearly set boundaries during the performance.”

“Oh, so like, kissing and things like that?” Kaitlyn sensed an odd thumping in her chest at that thought.

And because she’d uttered it, of course Emma pounced on the idea. “Precisely! Would you like to take this rare, once-in-a-lifetime-opportunity to learn how to ‘stage kiss’ from an expert?”

Stage…kiss? Now the thumping had gotten louder. It was at this point that Kaitlyn realized she and Emma were standing only about a foot apart now. She was close enough to smell Emma’s recently-washed hair; Kaitlyn couldn’t quite place the exact scent, but it was woodsy and comforting, appropriate for a camp counselor, she reckoned. “Better make it quick.”

Almost too obediently, Emma brought her hand up, holding it inches from Kaitlyn’s face. “Can I…?”

Kaitlyn nodded encouragingly. Was Emma really just going to straight-up kiss her?

As Emma leaned in, Kaitlyn closed her eyes in anticipation. She’d kissed plenty of girls in her time on this earth, but it had been a while since one had made her stomach do cartwheels like it was currently doing.

Emma’s hand cupped her face. Then, her thumb pressed gently on Kaitlyn’s lips…and she kissed it before pulling away. Kaitlyn tried not to feel a bit of disappointment. It was supposed to be a “safe” alternative, after all.

When Kaitlyn looked back up, Emma was staring at her, seemingly satisfied. Or perhaps amused by the awkwardness of it all. 

“Voila! Stage kiss.”

[queenthiax]

Gilly's Letters

Just a tidbit I wanted to get out of my brain, Gilly Cinderheart you have all of my heart <3 Even though I like to break it doing things like this.

- Dear Mama,

I made it to the adventurer’s guild! I would have written earlier, but getting all of the paperwork done and settled into my quarters ended up taking longer than I expected and the next thing I knew we were getting schedules and orders.

Everything around here happens so quickly it makes my head spin. I think Papa would like the hustle and bustle of the routine though. He always complains about how bored he is at home. 

They’re telling me that training starts tomorrow though. I thought getting accepted into the Guild meant that they had already assigned me to a seasoned adventurer, but it seems that there is some basic training they like everyone to go through before that. And something about the choices being made ‘after the heroes get to see our grit’ with their own eyes.

I’m taking everything in stride though! I’ll make sure to show everyone here what I’ve got and make sure the support everyone at home has given me will be worth it!

All of my love,

Gilly-pad

–

Dearest Mama,

Thank you for the care package, knowing that a taste of home will be waiting for me after each day of training is the best motivation to get through the day.

Training is… hard. I knew it would be, but it's so eye opening the difference in expectations here for monster hunting and adventuring is to the little threats that I handled for everyone at home. Really gives a lot of scale to how important the work is!

We haven’t had any adventurer’s looking for apprentices coming in yet, but my teachers all say they’re really impressed with my skills! Especially my ‘special skill’. It’s been really amusing to spar with others who take my size for granted and get to show them how sturdy us halflings can be!

Doing everything to keep you proud, give Papa my love.

Your Gilly-pad

–

MAMA!!!!

I GOT CHOSEN!! I’M OFFICIALLY AN APPRENTICE TO A GREAT ADVENTURER!!

MAMA YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHO IT IS!! 

THE GREAT SIR HORACE TREATY!!!

HE CAME AND WATCHED US AND PICKED ME OUT OF EVERYONE!!!

I’M SO HAPPY I COULD MELT!!

YOUR OFFICIAL ADVENTURER APPRENTICE DAUGHTER!!

LOVE LOVE LOVE FROM YOUR GILLY-PAD

–

My lovely Mama,

Life on the road has been so hectic, I apologize for the sporadic letters. I didn’t realize how unreliable sending through different post offices could be. Don’t worry too much about trying to keep track of me, sending them to the Adventurer’s Guild will make sure I get them eventually!

But it’s officially been a month! I’ve already been on so many adventures and helped slay so many monsters. It’s been a wonder to watch Sir Horace and his frequent companions work.

Sir Horace treats me well! We’re still getting to know each other so I do fear sometimes he keeps up his ‘hero’ act up with me, but I know I’m wearing him down!

Can’t write long since I have so many tasks to keep up with! But do know I’m having the time of my life! Tell Papa to not get jealous of my adventures!

Your monster slaying girl,

Gilly-pad

–

Mama,

I know the letters don’t come often enough, I’m so sorry about that. Sir Horace is taking my training seriously though and keeping me plenty busy!

Not only am I learning about actual adventuring and monster slaying, but he is doing the work to make sure I stay… humble. It’s important to not look down on all of the small tasks that keep you moving every day!

And I am never bored! Even when we’re not working Sir Horace keeps my mind sharp with his tales of his years of experience!

One day I want to show you all the places I’ve seen… I think you’d like some of them. But not as much as I love home, I hope to visit you soon.

All my love,

Gilly-pad

–

Mamsies,

I was just speaking with Sir Horace and he has given me leave once we get back to the city to come back home and visit for a while! He won’t have need of my services for a bit and I do crave your cooking.

We have an engagement - the fabled feast of glory - on the 25th of this month, but afterwards I’ll make my way back to you all! And I’ll be able to tell you of all the heroes I meet at the party!

Missing you and Papa always,

Gilly-pad

–

As darkness starts to take her - her body worn and bruised - the bravado of her last ‘fuck you’ leaves Gilly’s heart… one final thought… “I wish I could have read your letters Mama… I hope you’ve gotten mine… I’m sorry I couldn’t make good on my promise to visit one last time….”

[secondhandsorrows]

Drafting in 3 Parts

Just popping through to share a tidbit of advice I’d learned from a writer friend some years ago that helps break down the drafting process of storytelling and into perspective. It’s something that’s really stuck with me the more I get into drafting, and has really helped to put the whole, large-scale process into simple terms that makes the drafting stage seem a lot less… you know, frightening. 

It is broken down into three parts:

1. Make it work.

2. Make it right.

3. Make it good. 

Sounds easy, right? Well, I thought so, too. In fact, that’s the whole drafting, editing, and revising process right there, plain as day. In this post, I will walk you through how I understand these steps and utilize them in my own writing, so that you too could incorporate them into your own processes in a way that works for you. 

Let’s begin!

Step One: Make it Work

So what’s actually in this so-called “work” stage?

It’s exactly as the word suggests, but in two ways simultaneously. You do the work by putting the words on paper, while also making sure the story works. This doesn’t mean just grammar or spelling… This means alloting some care and effort to keeping the pace and avoiding any large-scale plot holes that would otherwise derail your entire story, which, of course, makes it harder to keep going. 

It’s not going to be good at first — we’ll get to that in step three. And it sure won’t be pretty. But this is the drafting stage… all you gotta do is show up and do the work. 

Step Two: Make it Right

This is where things get a little tricky. It’s easy to confuse this step with the previous step, as both blend the lines a little of having the story make sense. 

So what does this all entail? 

Well, a few things. Make it right can be attributed to the editing process, be it line-by-line grammar edits, syntax, word choice, and structure. Maybe storywise there’s a few descriptions that need tweaking, some inconsistencies needing a quick fix… what ever you can catch as you read through. Is the POV the right choice for the kind of story you’re telling? Does this character have a clear arc that gets fully wrapped up at the end? Speaking of which, are all those little subplots — or any other loose ends — tied up? Would it help to add a flashback, or get rid of that scene that goes nowhere altogether? Any places where you can show, not tell, or vice versa?

In short, this all boils down to make the story you’re trying to tell right: not only to you, but to the reader as well. 

Step Three: Make it Good

What consitutes a “good” story? Engaging characters, an immersive setting, solid themes and arcs, a gripping plot… we can go on forever. It’s a lot to keep track of, and it’s easy to lose sight of one thing in the grand scheme of writing. But the story has to be good. 

There, I said it! 

Come on, we were all thinking it. It’s clear that not everyone is going to like your story, and that’s a fact. As a writer, you not only want to be sure that the story is good in your eyes, but to that of the readers’, as well, for they are the ones you are going to keep engaged and waiting for your next release. You’re going to open their minds to new things, new ideas… that’s how you build a platform as a writer. What’s going to hold them back is poor pacing, underdeveloped characters, awkward dialogue, predictability, etc. Most if not all of these are what can make or break the story you’re trying to tell. 

But, in the end, this is your story: your own work of art. Have fun with it! Passion works in tandem with creativity: it’s there in your style and prose, your deep explorations of underlying themes and overarching ideas that you love to write about, the characters you’ve come up with that stick with you. There’s a reason why you wanted to tell this story— keep that in mind as you write. No one can tell or write your story quite like you can.