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arjwrites · 5 months ago

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In The Stillness (To Love is To Hurt)- Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: A glimpse into the ways you've impacted Dean.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, brief reference to sexual activity. Fem!Reader <3 (but like barely)

A/N: Hi!!! This story is a product of me wanting to try writing a one shot in the kind of writing style I use in my personal works! I write a lot of poetry and drabbley stuff outside of this blog and I felt like some of it would pair well in a one shot like this, based largely in narration rather than dialogue. I am worried it might veer a little bit too far into poetry territory in a few spots- I want to make sure it retains its clarity. Let me know what you think!

There were very few moments of true stillness in Dean’s life. Part of him was always moving somehow- legs carrying him to and from danger, hands absentmindedly cleaning guns and filling shotgun shells with salt, or perhaps the most restless of them all, his mind, always racing and always bearing the weight of the world. Dean’s brain was a machine, programmed all his life to carry out a list of simple tasks. Follow orders, protect Sammy, kill the monster, save the world. While the true meaning of these functions had changed wildly over the years, they always manifested in the worries that kept him up as he lay in bed at night, or ate at his soul during long, quiet stretches of the road.

There was nothing that could completely shut Dean’s thoughts off. Many of his younger years had been spent with a drink in his hand or a girl on his arm, picking his poison and hoping if he tried it often enough, it would become his antidote. Sure, these things sometimes helped, but only ever briefly- he would always wake in the morning, mind racing, head pounding, and searching for a quick getaway. These things were just another excuse to fill the gaps between cases, to keep from ever being still.

Dean was always running from the quiet. When there wasn’t a task at hand, there needed to be something to fill the space. If he lingered in his own mind for too long, he would close his eyes and his thoughts would take off, always landing somewhere where Dean should have been better. Somewhere he should’ve cracked the case sooner or saved the day quicker or protected someone- usually Sam- better. And sometimes, he could swear he felt himself strung up in the pit again, all of the suffering ever inflicted upon him concentrated in the knot that formed in his stomach and pulsing through his body via the racing of his heart. But Dean could never let his mind wander that far, because that far was dangerous. So he kept busy, kept compacting the memories and tucking them away in unlabeled boxes in his head in hopes that he would misplace them. Besides, the wars of the world took precedence far above the violence waging in his own head. It made sense to keep busy.

Dean had been a soldier for years, but the most difficult battle he ever fought was against his own feelings. When you stumbled into his life, magnetic and miraculous, he wasn’t quite sure what to do. He knew if he kept you close, his heart would force him to love you, his duty would force him to protect you, and his fear would force him to bear you as yet another burden. Another person in his life for him to love and to lose. In a desperate act of preservation- both for himself and for you- Dean fought tooth and nail to keep you at bay. He holed himself away at the brink of the darkest corners of his mind. But your warmth and light radiated through the cold world he had made for himself, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. And he couldn’t help but fall. Like much of his life thus far, he had been given no choice in the matter. He felt like you were his destiny.

Dean didn’t believe in much. He had no faith in religion or philosophy or science or himself. Nothing in his life thus far had ever made him feel at peace with his pain and his mortality. The world was chaotic and terrifying and there was no such true thing as heaven or holy or even good. But then there was you. Dean worshipped you, prayed to you, heard your word like gospel. You were the God he had always denied himself. You made sense of his suffering and lit the path to his salvation. It was always for you.

“To love, is to hurt,” you had told Dean one day, and he had looked back at you as if you had three heads. Though he hummed in tentative response, studying your words and the way your mouth moved to create them, he couldn’t bring himself to agree- and yet, he couldn't ask what you meant. He feared that he wouldn’t like the answer.

You would say these things to Dean from time to time, sharing tidbits about love, life, things you had learned in your years and carried with you wherever you went. It felt nice to have something to offer to him in exchange for the labor of loving you. His responses were often full of praise and piety as he kissed down your body in a practiced map of places, rhythmically, as if speaking in a secret language that only you two could decode.

Dean loved you during late nights and early mornings when you were your most peaceful and soft. In these moments he would look outside to see the silent moon or the rising sun, and smile to himself- as if it had been you who hung them there, just for him. Dean loved you on the drive home after finishing a hunt, when he kicked Sam to the back seat just to have you close, to feel your fingers bless his knuckles with your touch as he gripped the gear shift and hummed along with a melody. The lyrics never mattered anymore- to him, every piece of music was a love song he wrote to you.

Dean would watch you. He took you in like a piece of art- one he had waited in line for years to catch a glimpse of, just to be told that he could take the exhibit home. All the velvet ropes had fallen and the warning signs were painted over. Please, do not touch the art. And so he would. His fingertips would trace over your brushstrokes and he would compliment the artistry, always grateful to have been given a closer look.

Your gravity was enough to pull him in from wherever he wandered, though he never wandered far if he could help it. It felt as though you were what rooted him to time and space. Early in your relationship, silence was rare, but in times when the two of you would sit and share slices of it like an orange, he swore he could hear the buzzing of your life force. After a while, he could hear his own, too. And eventually, he would revel in the way your energies would harmonize and dance around each other in a well-rehearsed routine, swirling together and swaying to their own silent rhythm- two beings in love and intertwined in their own right.

He was scared to lose you- of course he was. He would beg for you to stay behind on hunts, or fling himself between you and the monsters you’d encounter. But in some ways, Dean felt you were most likely invincible. You were made of sunlight and stardust, how could anything kill that? And he felt you were too tied into his life to ever lose you- as if he had already peered through a window into his future and seen you in it, waving back at him. You would be there, he didn’t have to worry. It was a feeling that was so strikingly out of his nature that it grabbed hold of him and didn’t let go. He told you about this feeling once, and it comforted and worried you all at the same time. But the next hunt rolled around and he remained your fierce protector, taking on many of the injuries that would’ve befallen you had he not stepped in. As you stitched him up in a peaceful quiet, he mused-

“I think I’m starting to understand that whole “to love is to hurt” thing. You laughed. Dean beamed. The hunting, the fighting, the saving the world. All of it was worth it. He would do it all, just so you would patch him back up afterwards with a kiss and a smile. Sometimes you would play soft music and hum to him- in these moments, he would close his eyes and if he hadn’t known any better, he would’ve thought he was in heaven. If it was his heaven, why was he in pain? As he watched you work, he came to an easy decision. He would cut himself open, over and over again for eternity, just for the chance to see your eyes narrow in focus and your mouth purse in concentration as your nimble hands worked to stitch his wounds. Just to feel the vibrations of your lips as they planted a kiss to his cheek mid-melody. He felt his pain was an offering that you rewarded with your presence, and it was an exchange he would happily make throughout his life and far beyond his death.

Dean cherished the moments when the world outside his door faded into insignificance. You were the master switch that shut off the chaos, leaving him to bask in the warmth of your body and soul. But it took a while for Dean to realize the indelible mark you had left on him. He hadn’t spent more than a moment without you since you had first met- a hunter’s life didn’t leave much room for privacy, but that worked to his advantage in the early days. But you had left for a night, having to take care of a family obligation, pressing him a tender kiss and a don’t miss me too much as you rolled out the door that afternoon. And that night, tucked into your side of the bed in an effort to feel closer to you, Dean couldn’t sleep. Things that hadn’t crossed his mind in years went racing back and forth, round and round on a track until he couldn’t breathe- as if they had been chasing him every lap. When he closed his eyes, all of the memories he had stuffed in the closet and under the bed had spilled into a great big room and he was buried in the rubble. And when he opened his eyes and looked out at the moon, it seemed distant and cold, like it belonged to someone else. So he picked up the phone and called you, his body softening at the sound of your voice and falling asleep to the murmur of your words. He woke early, busy researching a case with Sam, but in a brief moment of stillness in the morning, he realized this was what she really meant. I get it now. Thankfully, you were home by dinnertime with a slice of your grandmother’s pie and a few crazy family stories to tell. Dean practically floated to you and wrapped you in a hug you had to beg him to release you from.

It hadn’t been until your absence that Dean realized how much still lurked below the surface. While your presence gilded every facet of Dean’s life with a warm, glowing gold, he still hurt, ached, withered when you were gone. And it wasn’t until this realization that Dean understood the labor it was to love him. And it made him want to be better.

The first time Dean opened up to you was a rainy spring evening. Then again one summer afternoon. He spent August feeding you breadcrumbs from his childhood. And he told you about his time in Hell in late October. You remembered this because you had looked out the window and resonated with the way the leaves trembled and fell from the trees. You raised a shaky hand to his cheek and wiped a tear and swore to Dean that he would never go through that pain again. And Dean, who had just relived each excruciating moment all over again, just for her, spoke.

“I- I get it now. To love is to hurt because it forces you to be better. And it hurts because you take on a whole second person’s pain, wanting to spare them from it. And to love is to hurt because-��

You raised a finger to his lips and then replaced it with a kiss. And you smiled. And you leaned into his chest. And you let things be still. And so did he.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester reader insert #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural x reader #supernatural one shot #supernatural reader insert #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff

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jave1y · 7 months ago

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Since yall loved my other post and I might as well lore dump and introduce my ocs

elmur is a 19 year old who was born with a curse that gives him the ability to see beings that normal naked eye can’t see. These other beings include monsters and ghosts. He grew up with azazel and yuria and they became like his own parental figures, since he didn’t have the best guardian when he was growing up. though it’s hard for him to make decisions between the two since polar opposites opposite. Yuria being more laid back and azazel being more stern and serious. But he always has his uncle Dean to be the (well the only good human figure in his life ) elmur is super chill, and he’s also kinda dumb but I love him idk, (also no one can see these creatures other than him)

Yuria is a . Well was a semi famous solo singer that was murdered in the 1980 by a fan on her wedding day. But instead of doing the usual “haunting and being sad all the time”. She takes the opportunity to have fun with her predicament, especially when death (grim reaper or death in general) is waiting for her to move on. She’s semi friends azazel but often gets into shenanigans with him due to their polar personalities. She is very chaotic, but she’s also kind of sassy. I love her. I love my wife. I’m so glad that other people love my wife. Oh and she’s also pen pals with Dean.

Azazel is a being that is known as the outsider which is a monster that is exist in the outside plane, which is where most of the monsters that Elmer can see. It’s a combination of what we see. Basically monsters that just appeared but can’t be seen. They tend to copy humans mannerisms but not all of them are friendly . Azazel is one of those friendly monsters that had basically adopted elmur. He originally knew elmurs grandmother who had unfortunately passed. So taking care of Elmer is like a justice to her. he’s a stickler for the rules and sometimes he doesn’t realize that he’s being too serious with elmur. He’s not really used to it. He’s /srs most of the time, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t pissy (think of the narrator from Stanley parable)

Dean is Elmer’s uncle and he already has a lot of personal issues and like Elmur he didn’t have the best life either. He drinks a lot but he also doesn’t want his past to define who he is now. Hes a Divorced police officer and he lives his nephew elmur and his son Travis (and some extra company) Dean is aware of Elmer’s “friends” but he’s supportive of it and doesn’t like to judge or shame elmur. Despite being divorced he’s on friendly terms with his ex wife and they still talk. But Dean is mainly alone when it comes to a social life, which is why he’s been getting random letters in mail from a secretive pen pal. Let’s say on the side of yuria chaotic energy and azazels serious and /srs manner, he’s in between I didn’t be careful someone who is confused about what they want can become confused about what you’re worth

Yeah so those are my bbs

If you have any questions feel free to ask or if you wanna draw my ocs ur absolutely allowed

I love ya

#my art #glass eyez

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dykealloy · 7 months ago

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Rec list please ✍️🏻

(with tropes and just a smidge of reason why the media is recommended <- both very optional of course)

oh boy. okay. Confession time, I've watched a ridiculous number of shows out of east Asia so this is a good opportunity to share some faves from recent memory. If there's going to be one running through-line with these recs it's that I love character-driven narratives which explore interesting interpersonal relationships (socio-cultural commentary is a plus).

In no ranked order, here's my top ten:

Hamster running the emotional gamut wheel (well-written stories about grief, closure and family)

Move to Heaven (2021) Korea, 10 episodes, Netflix Summary: Han Geu-ru is an autistic 20-year-old who works for his father’s business “Move To Heaven”, a company that specializes in crime scene cleanup, where they collect and arrange items left by the deceased and deliver them to the bereaved family. When Geu-ru's father dies, his guardianship passes to his uncle, ex-convict and underground MMA fighter Cho Sang-gu. Per the father's will, Sang-gu must care for and work with Geu-ru for three months to gain full guardianship and claim the inheritance. Eying money, Sang-gu agrees to the conditions and moves in.

This show knows exactly what it is and executes with excellent writing and characterisation. While it does have an overarching narrative, Move to Heaven is structured so that you're exploring a different person's story each episode, so it has a lot of flexibility to explore themes of grief and closure through different lives and relationships, and when I tell you this show can hit emotional beats... (<- may or may not have cried through most episodes on my first watch-through. Emotional terrorism). These stories are really beautifully portrayed and though there are effective comedic beats, there's this clear authenticity in not needing to undercut or distance oneself from the vulnerability of the subject matter.

Geu-ru and his uncle (Sang-gu) add a lot of needed levity, with Geu-ru's need for consistent, structured, methodical routines constantly clashing with Sang-gu's chaotic and combative approach to life. Sang-gu's character arc (though predictable) is just so satisfying. It's kinda hilarious seeing Geu-ru (and his father by extension) inadvertently poke more and more holes in Sang-gu's initial plan of "take the money and run" the deeper he incorporates himself into the space and purpose that his brother once took up, and it's very heartwarming to see these polar opposites slowly develop a respect and appreciation for one another.

Tropes: reluctant to responsible parental figure, tear-jerker

Oh No! Here Comes Trouble (2023) Taiwan, 12 episodes, GTV and iQIYI Summary: Pu Yi-yong was a typical 17-year-old student with a passion for drawing and a hereditary talent for calligraphy. After he wakes up from a bus accident that claimed his father's life and left him in a coma for two years, a 19-year-old Yi-yong must now find his place in the world again. This becomes more complicated when spirits begin approaching him and asking for his help.

This show actually has a lot of similarities to Move to Heaven e.g. exploring different side-stories each episode, focus on victims forgotten by society (the lonely, the homeless, the outcasts and the minorities), themes of grief and closure, polar opposite characters learning to work together, breaking me emotionally at some point. But Oh No! Here Comes Trouble differs in tone (distinct directing style), quirky humour (Taiwanese comedic style is just different and I love it in this show) and presentation (urban fantasy/mystery).

Yi-yong might be one of my all time favourite characters in media. From the outset he presents as this classic, one-dimensional, grumpy delinquent teen (e.g. resting-bitch-face syndrome, scrappy mullet, academically behind, no social grace and a tendency to accidentally hit people in the face with softballs). As fun as that is, the more you watch, the more this show challenges these assumptions. Yi-yong's mum (also an A+ character, god I love her) is a hairdresser, and often uses Yi-yong as her stylistic guinea pig. Yi-yong's not super intelligent, but he's compassionate (albeit at times reluctantly so). He really listens when people talk to him, whether they're trying to comfort him, give him advice, or asking him for assistance (though he often questions and expresses frustrations about his own ability to help other people). There's a humble gentleness to him.

Yi-yong was already struggling to juggle his dreams of becoming a comic artist with the practicalities of his life before he fell into a coma, then he woke up two years later, having completely missed the perceived "pivotal juncture" associated with the transition from youth to adulthood. Time moved on, and so have his peers, leaving an almost 20-year-old Yi-yong lost at sea with no paddle, no map and grieving the loss of his father. And now he has supernatural beings approaching him and insisting that he is the key to settling their unfinished business. To Yi-yong (and to popular east-asian social standards), Yi-yong is a loser. He's academically unintelligent, has no clear aspirations or discipline or future prospects, his family is far from wealthy, he's got zero social status, smarts or rank. Yi-yong is just as much of a forgotten outcast to society as these spirits are.

He does eventually get assistance in the form of Chen Chuying - a junior police officer (helping substantially with the mystery investigation side of things) and Cao Guangyan - former one-sided rival schoolmate and current med student who coincidentally moves next door (initially maintains the outsider perspective of Yi-yong as a hooligan until they get to know each other a little better, by which point Guangyan is already helping Yi-yong get back on his feet) who form a very well-rounded, loveable cast.

I wish I could talk more about this show, I am very fond of it. Please do watch it and if anyone wants to discuss it my dms are open.

Tropes: ragtag trio of idiots, urban fantasy, mystery, tear-jerker, reluctant hero

Get your pussy up get your money up (life is giving lemons and survival is the name of the game)

Honourable mentions here: Yeon Sang-ho popped off with Train to Busan in 2016 and South Korea has been throwing bangers into one of my favourite genre pools ever since. If you're interested in more zombie series I would strongly recommend checking out All of Us are Dead (2022), Happiness (2021), Sweet Home (2020) and Kingdom (2019).

A Shop for Killers (2024) Korea, 8 episodes, Netflix Summary: Jeong Ji-An tragically loses her parents as a young girl. Her reserved and mysterious estranged uncle, Jeong Jinman, acts as her sole guardian and care-taker, raising her with tough love and a survivalist mindset until she leaves for university. One day, Jung Ji-An hears that her uncle has suddenly passed away, and returns home, where she learns the truth behind her uncle's business and by extension, her past.

Ji-An is locked inside a building with no communication with the outside world, nowhere to go, and with assassins after her head (not ideal). Unbeknownst to Ji-An though, her late uncle Jinman prepared a thorough defense system for this very event, setting her up with home-terf advantage and a very dangerous fortress against this army.

Ji-An and Jinman's story is told mainly through flashbacks as Ji-An attempts to survive the raid on their home. Their dynamic is definitely a repeat of the stoic, initially cold father-figure type "I am neither your mum or your dad, and I can never be" to the orphan child that we've been seeing more recently of late. I'm not mad about it. It's a good formula. I won't go into the type of person Jinman is, or the nature of his work/business. Going in blind and slowly figuring this out with Ji-An was a big plus in terms of the viewing experience for me.

Tropes: reluctant parental figure, home alone antics

D.P. (2021) Korea, 12 episodes, Netflix Summary: Ahn Junho is enlisted to serve in the South Korean Army as part of his national service obligations. He eventually goes to the Army's Military Police. While getting used to life in the MP, Junho's street smarts lands him in the D.P. (Deserter Pursuit) unit. Junho is assigned with Corporeal Han Hoyeol to capture deserters, revealing the painful reality endured by each enlistee during their compulsory duty.

imo D.P.'s is at its most enjoyable when Junho and Hoyeol are working as detectives with limited time and resources. Hoyeol's presence especially adds needed levity. He's like the show's own eccentric little court jester (at least until season 2, where he becomes the show's own tortured little court jester). You don't know how much you're missing Hanyeol until he shows up and you're finally given some space to breathe.

This show's gotten a lot of praise for its realistic social commentary around the vicious cycle of bullying, hazing practices, corruption and abuse within the South Korean military. It's well written and fast-paced, and it definitely doesn't pull its punches. I probably wouldn't recommend this show were it not for the quality of its writing, its ability to balance the depressing subject matter with pockets of dark comedy and everyone's favourite dynamic duo Junho and Han Hoyeol. All the content warnings for this one.

Tropes: ptsd, abuse, brotherhood, idk man straight up not having a good time

Weak Hero Class (2022) Korea, 8 episodes, Viki Summary: Straight-A student and loner Yoon Sieun utilizes his wits and tools to defend himself from a boys school full of shit-heads. He slowly warms up to Ahn Sooho, the school's strongest fighter, and Oh Beomseuk, the new transfer Student.

Sieun is here to answer the age-old philosophical question: "Aren't you tired of being nice? Don't you just want to go apeshit?" Even though Sieun is physically lacking, he's very capable of baring his teeth and using his smarts to fight like hell. It's so cathartic to finally see a short, weak, bullied protagonist willing to go violently feral upon provocation.

This show's tone can get pretty dark and surprisingly violent. The true core behind why a lot of people love this show is Sieun and Sooho's friendship. Sieun starts off as a grumpy, glaring, withdrawn hermit with no interest in anything that isn't studying (honestly idk how Sieun keeps finding himself in these situations like. All the kid ever wanted was to hit the books). I won't spoil too much, but watching as Sooho slowly peels away that protective shell Sieun encases around himself is a thing of beauty. I strongly recommend you give the first episode a go (free on youtube).

Tropes: angst, bromance, badass bookworm, adults are useless, abusive parents

Detectives smashing you over the head repeatedly with gay subtext (not explicitly gay but if you have a brain and any semblance of a gaydar that thing is going to be going off like a geiger counter next to the elephant foot)

The Devil judge (2021) Korea, 16 episodes, Netflix and Viki Summary: Set in a dystopian version of present-day South Korea, the world is bereft of law and order and the court justice process has become like a reality tv show. Head Trial Judge Kang Yohan mercilessly punishes the guilty and corrupt, earning him the "Devil Judge" monicker. As bitter rivalry takes shape between Yohan and the highly ambitious Jung Sun-ah, who has risen from poverty to become a corporate social responsibility foundation director. Into this turbulent world enter two childhood friends on a mission for true justice and determined to discover the secret Yohan is hiding: rookie judge Kim Gaon and detective Yoon Su-hyun.

The Devil Judge tackles the concept of the anti-hero (battling evil with evil) and questions why these figures are idolized by the public. It also challenges the naive faith in the rule of law and whether or not the established systems should be upheld or not. The screenwriter has however made it very clear that he focused way more on the relationship between the characters than conveying his own message and boy oh boy is that reflected in whatever Yohan and Gaon have got going on (serious come-hither eyes, gratuitous physical touch, themes of power, justice and corruption, Yohan pressing Gaon up against the nearest hard surface on at least four separate occasions, etc.).

Kang Yohan, the titular anti-hero/main protagonist operates within a failed state and a corrupted judiciary. To a certain extent he knows the self-destructive path he walks is doomed to fail, but to right the system and take revenge, he's on the lookout for a someone that can out him as the Devil and become the messiah that Yohan himself cannot be. It does come off as very "anime" at times (theatrical presentation, tragic backstories, bad writing when it comes to women, naive characters and overly dramatic tone) but hey, if you have very few qualms with that, chances are you're going to have a blast.

Also the OST for this show absolutely fucks. It has no right being this good. Jung Se Rin really popped off. I have Enemy of Truth as a staple in a lot of my playlists.

Tropes: idealist vs jerkass pragmatist, anti-hero/vigilante, whump

The Worst of Evil (2023) Korea, 12 episodes Summary: Set in the 1990s, a former DJ starts selling a new powerful drug. Since the police know little about its origin, rural police officer Park Junmo is assigned to go undercover and infiltrate the criminal empire responsible for the drug trade between Korea, Japan, and China. Junmo later discovers that his wife, Yoo Euijung, also a detective, has volunteered to participate in this dangerous mission and seems to have a past with the underground drug king (and Junmo's boss), Jung Gicheul. The deeper Junmo entrenches himself as Gicheul's subordinate, the more unrecognisable he becomes to those closest to him.

Junmo could have let Gicheul die or slip away like several times in a row, indicates he has zero idea why he does this, then says the line verbatim "I look up to him and I like him and my body follows my heart". What am I supposed to take away from this. This show has everything. Early 90s homoerotic cigarette lighting, sodomy, incredible cinematography, betrayal, close-ups of Junmo's bloody face squished up against Gicheul's thigh. There's some scenes where Junmo is looking at both his wife and Gicheul framed in the same shot like the goddamn camera is daring you to question who he is more jealous of. My biggest complaint is that there was quite literally no need for a wife-stealing plot - the most compelling, messiest gay situationship was right there for the taking.

In episode 9 post-gang war hallway-slaughter, a blood-soaked Junmo hops up onto a table on all fours with a knife between his teeth, locks eyes with Gicheul then proceeds to slash a man's achilles tendon and if you listen closely enough you'll hear me in the background screaming YOU HAVE BECOME HIS DOG. 10/10 watch this show.

Tropes: mafia, undercover, bodyguard, make him worse, devotion and loyalty gone bad gone nuclear, maybe if they fucked nasty about it we wouldnt be in this mess

Beyond evil (2021) would also go here and has similar vibes to the above two, but I personally don't have much to say about it. Unhinged slutty old man, gay stuff going on over there, etc, etc. Citrinekay sums it up nicely here. Guardian (2018) would probably also go here. Definitely check these out if you enjoy/like the sound of these shows.

Lighthearted fun romance (I am not escaping the lesbian fujoshi accusations)

Cherry Magic (2020) Japan, 12 episodes Summary: Adachi is a salaryman with low confidence and a tendency for self-deprecation, resulting in him often acting awkward around others, not being sure how to assert himself in the workplace, and constantly comparing himself to the company's golden boy - Kurosawa. Things become further complicated when Adachi finds out after his thirtieth birthday that he has suddenly gained the magical power to hear people's thoughts if he touches them. Adachi struggles with his newfound touch telepathy when he accidentally discovers Kurosawa is in love with him.

Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard!? (Yes that is the full title, Japan you are killing me) is very sweet and wholesome and the humour hits and I believe in Kurosawa Yuichi supremacy. I know self-deprecating characters can be a downer for some people but Adachi comes off as very relatable and seeing him slowly gain more confidence in himself and his abilities is heartwarming. Great serotonin-booster. If you find this show's premise interesting there's a high likelihood you will enjoy it.

I didn't care so much for the second couple but if you're like me it's easy to skip through these scenes (you won't be missing anything).

Tropes: office romance, telepathy, pining

Semantic Error (2022) Korea, 8 episodes, Viki and Netflix (region-dependent) Summary: Cho Sangwoo is the epitome of an inflexible and strict rule-abiding person. When talented graphic design major Jaeyoung discovers Sangwoo is the cause for his delayed university graduation, he sets out to take revenge (by becoming Sangwoo's biggest, brightest daily annoyance). Jaeyoung finds himself in hot water when he inadvertently develops a crush, and junior computer science major Sangwoo is about to encounter some serious errors in his usual programming.

This is a classic polar opposites attract story, with Jaeyoung the loud, extroverted, brash foil to Sangwoo's reserved, withdrawn, morally black-and-white, logic-first persona. As much fun as it is to see Sangwoo's ordered world thrown into chaos, it's equally enjoyable to witness Jaeyoung jump from being obsessively committed to annoying Sangwoo, to being whipped for him (and the subsequent difficulties this causes for Jaeyoung - a popular, attractive, talented, bi artist used to getting his way - in trying to pursue a highly irritated and emotionally closed-off Sangwoo, who is being challenged with a side of himself he hasn't had to grapple with up until now). Also Jaeyoung has an incredibly hot lesbian best friend which was great. for me specifically.

An entertaining, cohesive story with great actors who have fantastic chemistry. What more can you ask for?

Tropes: enemies to lovers, opposites attract, university, pulling pigtails

Old Fashion Cupcake (2022) Japan, 5 episodes Summary: At the critical juncture of a mid-life crisis, Nozue, a 39-year-old office worker, is stuck in the dull, mundane grind of wake, work, sleep. But due to his age, he's convinced he's well past the point he can take risks by trying something new. As such, he continues to decline promotions at his job and romantic advances from potential partners. He confides one day in his 29-year-old subordinate, Togawa, making an off-hand comment about a desire to be like a young girl - capable of feeling excitement and joy in life again. In an attempt to inspire him to move forward, Togawa suggests an "anti-aging experiment" and the two of them go on a journey together to help Nozue feel young again.

First things first - a large portion of Togawa's proposed "ant-aging technique" involves frequenting dessert cafes and restaurants that are catered towards a younger female demographic and fuck me the food in this show always looks so goddamn good.

The boss/employee thing might turn people away from giving this a shot but what I really love about this show is that despite being Nozue's subordinate (and younger than him - which is a bigger deal in Japan), Togawa is extremely blunt and unafraid to tell Nozue exactly what he thinks (so long as Togawa believes it will ultimately benefit Nozue in the long run), and it's very clear that he does this because he has a strong sense of respect for Nozue (and because spoilers - Togawa is so down bad for his boss like okay boy DAMN. Go get your esoteric old man). This show is also great at conveying emotion and inner conflict without dialogue (I've enjoyed coming back for a re-watch and picking up on little nuisances in Togawa and Nozue's behaviour that I missed the first time around).

Overall this is a very cute, very wholesome coming of age/queerness story that reminds you that it's never too late to pursue what interests you, try something new, and enjoy life while you're at it.

Tropes: fingers in his mouth friday, pining, age gap, office romance, food as a love language

That's it! If you want more recs from a genre hit up my inbox, I had a fun time pulling this together and have many more in the chamber where that came from.

#long post #yes I didn't add the untamed because if you haven't already seen or heard of that show you are. living under a rock #i didn't realise how difficult it is to communicate specifically why you like a show until now #move to heaven #oh no! here comes trouble #a shop for killers #d.p.#weak hero class 1 #the devil judge #the worst of evil #cherry magic! thirty years of virginity can make you a wizard?!#semantic error #old fashion cupcake #drama recommendation #kdrama #asian drama #show recommendations #drama recs #ask

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yournowheregirl · 5 months ago

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wip wednesday weekend

i got tagged by the lovely @seths-rogens thank you sm friend! 💖

again, very much in a writing / hyperfixation rut BUT!! i decided to post blurbs from previous wips, in the hopes that it'll light the writing spark yet again.

so please enjoy quite a long blurb from an unfinished steddie fic based on that one scene in mamma mia where sam proposes to donna at sophie's wedding.

Eddie realizes then and there that he might never get an opportunity like this again. Well, he might but not another opportunity that has this level of show-stopping drama and Eddie lives for some drama in his life.

And so, Eddie does what he does best and steps on top of the nearest chair, drawing the attention of the most chaotic wedding party he’s ever seen.

“Hang on!”

All the eyes in the room are on him in a split second and while he usually basks in all the attention, he also feel strangely nervous. But it’s now or never, everyone is already staring at him like he grew a second head, so he might as well continue.

“Why waste a good wedding, huh?” Eddie grins as his eyes roam around the room before finally landing on Steve again. “How about it, Harrington?”

The wedding guests once more erupt into hushed whispers of shock but Eddie can’t even hear them anymore. His sole focus is Steve, who looks at him like he’s certifiably insane. And maybe he is, maybe it is insane to propose to your ex from seven years ago during your friends’ canceled wedding, but Eddie’s just gonna take a chance. He’s not gonna run away, not this time.

“What?”

Okay, not the answer Eddie was hoping for but he gets it. Maybe Steve needs a little more convincing.

“Aw, c��mon. You gonna need someone to boss around in that newly empty apartment of yours and it might as well be me.” Eddie hops off the chair, his head cocked to the side and doing his best impression of Bambi to sell Steve on the idea. “What do you say?”

“Are you crazy?” Steve splutters, hands on his hips. His brows are furrowed and his lips are pursed in that famous Harrington scowl that Eddie knows and loves.

“For you? Yes.”

“You have a girlfriend!” Steve exclaims - which is quickly followed by grandma Wheeler’s 'oh dear'.

This makes Eddie frown because he very much doesn’t have a girlfriend, hasn’t had one in months not since- “Who? Donna? Nah, we broke up ages ago.”

“But- but- we live in totally different states.”

“I can pack up my things and move to Boston, no problem.” Eddie counters. “What else you got, because as you know, I can go on for hours.”

Steve apparently takes that as a challenge because that panicked look on his face melts away and is replaced by a cocky smirk and raised eyebrows. “What if I’m already dating someone?”

“Last thing I heard from Dustin you were dating that god-awful guy named Brad and considering that he isn’t anywhere to be found-” Eddie dramatically gestures around the room. “I figure that you did the right thing and dumped his ass.”

“You wouldn’t want to get married without Wayne here.” Steve counters, crossing his arms in front of his chest and God, Eddie had forgotten how hot Steve looks when he's up for a challenge.

“We’ll just have a second wedding. Periwinkle isn’t really my color either, but I’ll make an exception for you, sweetheart.” Eddie winks.

tagging (with zero pressure!!) some old friends and some new ones: @cheatghost @sidekick-hero @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @spectrum-spectre @stevebabey @steddieas-shegoes & @steddielations big (consensual) kisses for you all, mwah!! 💖💖

#my writing #tag game #steddie #steddie fic #oh now i do want to revisit this #bc not to brag but i adore this dialogue

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steddieunderdogfics · 2 months ago

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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: @lady-lostmind! lady_lostmind has 84 works in the Stranger Things fandom and 55 of them are in the Steddie tag!

@oh-stars recommends the following works by @lady-lostmind:

This Is The Coin I Had In My Pocket The First Time We Kissed, And I Always Have It.

Transfixed (under your spell)

Fuck

You know what to do, when it gets hold of you.

The Wall

"Mack is one of the best writers in this ship and I am so very lucky to read their work early on. Her Eddie voice is unmatched to me!! Every time I read a new fic of hers, I'm always shocked at how she can outdo herself with creating my next favorite fic. She's fearless in trying new tropes and genres, exploring super serious topics and she has some of the hottest scenes I've read. Every opportunity I have to read or reread her work is an absolute pleasure and I am so honored to get to see her flourish!" -- @oh-stars

Below the cut, @lady-lostmind answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I’ve been reading fanfic since I was a teenager but I never felt the urge to write my own until watching these two together. I think we can all agree there was some undeniable chemistry between the two on screen and they have such a fun dynamic to work with. I’ve always enjoyed creative writing in some shape or form whether it be for a class or writing lyrics for the band I was in, or the half abandoned novel I have in my docs. I decided to give fanfic a shot and then really loved getting to actually be a part of the community instead of lurking on the edges and leaving kudos anonymously like I had for years. But there is something so special about Steddie in particular and I’m especially drawn to writing Eddie in particular. His character has so many layers to explore and different directions to go and I love making him fall in love with his golden retriever of a man over and over again.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I am a sucker for a good slow burn, especially with some hurt/comfort thrown in. Please rip my heart out, stomp on it, pick it back up, and hand it back to me wrapped in a pretty little bow.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Honestly, the same as what I read. As much as I love a good fluffy one shot there’s nothing quite like the sweet torture of dragging your characters through hell before they get their happy ending. It’s so fun trying to navigate what they would do in difficult situations, and how that affects the story overall.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

This is such a hard question. There are so many good fics out there. We’re truly well fed in this community. I think some of my absolute favorites have to be You’re Divine by oonionchiver, and The most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it’s you by greatunironic. Both of them inspired me to do a lot of fanart including a bind and cover art for You’re Divine, and drawing all the album covers in TMRTAYSITDITIY.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I never really know what I’m going to write next until it smacks me in the face. But I’m definitely open to whatever that might be. I will say I’ve never ventured into the omegaverse in my writing but it does seem like a fun one to play around with.

What is your writing process like?

Chaotic. I love writing but have a hard time actually sitting down and focusing on it. I either write a huge chunk all at once, or I write a sentence at a time while watching tv or something. I do really enjoy writing with other people though whether that’s in a sprint or word game.

Do you have any writing quirks?

If I have music on while writing it can’t have any lyrics in it or I get too distracted.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Oh, a schedule is generous, I’d say. But I do prefer posting chapter by chapter. I feel like people engage a little more as they read each one and I love getting the feedback as I go.

Which fic are you most proud of?

And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife. I think my writing grew a lot during that fic and I’m really proud of the work I put into it. AYMFYIABHWABW was also the first thing I ever wrote for an event and was a big step for me to actually put myself out there and talk with other authors and artists. I made some amazing connections through that event and am so glad I pushed through any self consciousness to ask for a beta reader because I found an amazing one in oh-stars and gained a great friendship through that. They introduced me to karadanverss when the two of them were looking for some help modding the Stranger Things Reverse Big Bang and I not only gained another friend, but got to dip my toe into being a mod, something I never would have even considered doing before, but have had so much fun being a part of as we set up other events together. So I think because of all that, AYMFYIABHWABW will always hold a special place in my heart.

How did you get the idea for This Is The Coin I Had In My Pocket The First Time We Kissed, And I Always Have It.?

During a rewatch of New Girl. Nick Miller is honestly such a mash up of Eddie and Steve, and I could not get the idea out of my head to Steddiefy the scene in the hall where Nick says “Not like this.” It screams hopeless romantic Steve to me, and the title is a line Nick says to Jess way later and it never fails to make me cry. So, I started with that. Just wanting to do a similar situation with Steddie, and it morphed into something much bigger than I intended.

When writing You know what to do, when it gets hold of you., what was something you didn’t expect?

I thought I would have a harder time with Steve’s POV in this one than I did. I really wanted to show a side of him that I feel gets overlooked a lot since he’s always throwing himself in front of everyone else when there’s danger. But what happens when that danger isn’t there anymore? What does he do with that? It’s a side I hadn’t explored much before and I was really happy with where that took me. I really liked getting to see where Steve’s mind would go when the group is seemingly safe.

What inspired Transfixed (under your spell)?

Transfixed was written for the Steddie Summer Exchange! So I actually had this prompt: ‘Popstar Steve and rockstar Eddie having a secret relationship whilst the public and their own band mates think they hate each other.’ to go off of for it. This prompt screamed angsty, hurt/comfort so I was really excited I snagged it in claims.

What was your favorite part to write from You know what to do, when it gets hold of you.?

I think it has to be the scene where Steve finally breaks down. When Eddie figures out what has been going on and Steve just lets it all out. If there is one thing Steve Harrington deserves, it’s a good fucking cry.

How do/did you feel writing The Wall?

The Wall was written for Steddie Love Month with the prompt: Love is letting yourself be loved and if that didn’t scream insecure Steve I don’t know what does. I remember feeling very bittersweet while writing The Wall because I know what it’s like to be afraid to let someone in again when you’ve been hurt, and how good it feels when you finally let that wall down and accept that risk because it’s worth it. I tried to capture that feeling as best as I could.

What was the most difficult part of writing Fuck?

Fuck was another Steddie Love Month prompt. The hardest part of writing this one was just trying not to cackle to myself about how ridiculous Eddie was being. This one was a lot of fun to write.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

Oh my. I think it either has to be the first scene I wrote for AYMFYIABHWABW that sparked the entire thing: Steve is staring at him, eyes wide and rocking a little on his heels like he’s so nervous he can’t stay still. Eddie’s stomach drops, his mind spiraling through a million worst case scenarios all at once. “What’s wrong? Is Wayne– Are the kids okay? Is it–” Steve holds his hands out in front of him and shakes his head. “Fuck, no. Sorry. No. It’s not–” Steve sucks in a deep breath, his hands shooting up into his hair before dropping to hovering in the space between the two of them. “Eds. I fucked up. I so massively fucked up. I can’t even begin to–[...] This feels like a fucking fever dream. Like something he’s imagined a million times over. Awake and asleep, In every possible scenario and position. All the times he fucked men in bathroom stalls and or pressed them against a wall in a dirty alley, this is what he wanted. And he was right. None of it even comes close to being this. This is…it’s everything. Fuck– it’s everything." Or this scene from You know what to do, when it gets hold of you where Steve finally gets to breakdown: Steve shakes against him, his tears wetting the shoulder of Eddie’s shirt. “I’m sorry.” Eddie shakes his head. “It’s okay.” He rubs his hand up and down Steve’s back. “Hey, you’re okay. We’re going to figure this out, okay?” Steve sobs, his hands fisting into Eddie’s shirt a broken “Sorry” slipping out of him again. Eddie’s arms tighten around Steve, and he struggles to swallow the lump forming in his throat, tears welling in his eyes. Can’t help the way his heart breaks a little at the sorrow in Steve’s voice. How vulnerable he sounds. Because Steve Harrington isn’t vulnerable. Steve Harrington dives into lakes with portals to another world at the bottom without a second thought. Steve Harrington rips other dimensional beasts apart with his teeth. Steve Harrington marched into battle calmly, and confidently. Steve Harrington carried Eddie out of a hellscape on his fucking back. Steve Harrington is the rock. He is the one everyone leans on. And Eddie knew. He knew something was wrong. He knew something was going on. But it’s one thing to know it, and another to see your hero crack and crumble in your arms.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

The Eddie Munson Big Bang! Definitely keep an eye on our tumblr (@eddiemunsonbigbang) to see all the amazing fics and art that will be coming out. I’m one of the mods over there, and I’m working on a fic for it that I’m really excited about. If this is posed before the end of September…we’re still looking for artists!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

I’d just really like to thank anyone who has ever taken the time to read my fics, or like any of the fanart I’ve made. I never expected anyone to really see any of it when I first started all this and have really loved finding a community to be a part of. I never had any friends who were really into fandoms or fanfiction, and up until I started engaging in Steddie content no one in my life even knew I read it. Getting to talk to, and make friends in this community gave me the confidence to talk more about what I’m interested in and connect more with the people in my life. So, thank you all for showing me how to be loud about the things I love and that I don’t have to hide parts of myself away!

Thank you to our author, @lady-lostmind, and our nominator, @oh-stars! See more of lady_lostmind's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#writer's spotlight #writer's wednesday #steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #ao3 writer #steddie writers

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ithacas-prince · 2 months ago

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“Give me sirens and a cyclops!”

Telemachus, the prince of Ithaca. Parents are Queen Penelope and King Odysseus. also a great-great-grandson of Hermes, and a grandson of a naiad.

No need to inform me of affairs, for I am well-versed in the matters at hand.

The goddess Athena is my benefactor. In days past, she took on the guise of Mentor and urged me to embark upon a voyage in search of my father. Though my quest bore no fruit, I believe we would have become steadfast companions.

(PFP BY sloanslone | banner by jarondont)

death count: 1

kill count: 109

I seek knowledge of my father Odysseus's fate. When I inquired of Menelaus, he recounted a vision revealed by the sea-god Proteus, declaring that my father is marooned and ensnared upon the island of Calypso.

My inclinations are yet unknown to me. (He’s bisexual.) I find joy in music, my lyre, and the companionship of my faithful dog Argos. However, I harbor great disdain for the suitors, for they seek to win the favor of my mother, which I find most vexing.

I yearn for the company of my kin, to partake in the simple joys of life as any mortal might. Yet, alas, I find it difficult to embrace normalcy, for I am bound by blood to a certain messenger god. His whims and tasks often draw me into the realm of the extraordinary, making it nigh impossible to dwell in the comforts of the ordinary.

hi, mod here.. WHAT THE FUCK IS HE SAYING??

appearance: curly raven black hair, dark aquamarine green eyes, pointy ears (which turn into naiad ears in the water, cough) fair skin, freckles, he towers EVERYONE mf is 6'2 help this man, very attractive (unknowingly blessed with beauty by…..???)

voice claim: zagreus from hades

personality: chaotic but mainly calm at times, caring, sometimes an idiot, impulsive, strategic, loyal. he has ADHD, btw. low self esteem issues.

skills: archery, running, swimming, swordsmanship, disarmament, wielding daggers, fighting, etc.

powers: breathing underwater and minor control over water, plus being able to unlock doors with ease and controlling money, he sometimes teleports though it drains him after.

he has maladaptive daydreaming

—

quick rules:

- Romantic interactions will only be with CHARACTERS eighteen years or over.

- This is a ask/rp blog! So you can ask or rp.

- No strong NSFW.

- Innuendos? Allowed.

- Nothing is fully canon!

- If I interact with someone or something or reblog something bad on accident. PLEASE tell me so I can fix it.

- if he dates anyone, it’s set in separate universes.

—

tags:

#the prince has spoken — 👑 (Telemachus)

#asks — ❓ (for asks)

#mod comes over — ⭐️

#the goddess of wisdom appeared — 🦉 (Athena, obviously.)

#god of wine slurs — 🍷 (Dionysus, adopted/mentors Telemachus now.)

…

PLEASE INTRODUCE HIM TO SHIT HES VERY BAD AT THIS 😔😔😔

…

Let me speak of those whom I am acquainted with:

@odysseus-of-ithaca-is-lost, @penelope-simp (my dad!!)

@penelope-is-waiting (my mother)

@reigningprincesstofithaca (my biological sister. she keeps scaring the shit out of me.)

@thehermesguy (my great great granddad)

@unhinged-waterlilly

@quillis-climbs-trees

@thementallyillapollochild

@when-fate-is-mistaken

@sunlights-daughter

@sillypuppetmeister

mod speaking here! NO NSFW. Swearing and cussing happen here.. so..

Im fine with being tagged in random starters or posts.

…

him, btw (art by @/sloanslone

winged, naiad, genderbent and reg form ^

#the prince has spoken — 👑#mod comes over — ⭐️#the goddess of wisdom appeared — 🦉#god of music sings — 🎶

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scribbled-anecdotes · 6 months ago

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Kill the Mood - MDZS Slasher AU

Did anyone else read MDZS and think woah you know what this campy, murder-filled series needs: an AU set in a '80s campy teen Slasher? Because I did!

Synopsis:

Meng Yao is in the final year of high school. Between his shitty parents, his shitty after-school job, and his shitty social life, graduation cannot come quick enough. With stressful university admissions and a long-held crush on one of the most popular guys in school, Meng Yao couldn't imagine things could get any more chaotic. That is until he comes home to find he has another half-brother, Xue Yang, who seems a bit ... off. Things quickly spiral when Meng Yao realizes that he might have more in common with this new-found half-brother, who might just be a teen serial killer.

Relationships: XiYao; established Xuanli and in future chapters: SongXiao, Wangxian (background), and XiaoXue (if you see things from Xue Yang's point of view, that is)

CW: canon-typical abuse, suicide mention, mild gore and child death.

Also shoutout to the darling @prinzsorgenfrei for not only aiding and abetting this by beta reading it and drawing very pretty character designs, but for also workshopping scenes with me and for co-writing some XiYao.

This is my first MDZS fic, so please do let me know y'all's thoughts.

New York, 1986

“Jesus Christ.”

A pair of firefighters scanned flashlights over the charred remains of what had once been a nursery: rows of cribs and toddler cots reduced to pyres. Little bodies, burned beyond recognition, curled up.

At least they had been asleep.

There was always something particularly horrid when such innocent lives were caught up in accidents like these. Faulty wiring in the old boys’ group home was the immediate suspect. The fire had started in the basement, where wires that hadn’t been updated since before the war knotted and choked each other out. They had found the Headmaster’s body—well his presumed body; it was too big to be that of a child—curled outside his rooms. Smoke inhalation was the immediate suspect, there. What a pitiful and painful way to go.

But the thing about burnt bodies, the particular thing about burnt bodies unassumingly crisped in an old house that was practically begging to go up in flames, was that no one would think to look for further injuries. Feet fall off when temperatures get too hot, after the body curls up as the muscles contract and bulge in the inferno. What does it matter when the Achilles Tendon snaps? Or is snapped, rather. What would it matter how bruised and cut up the now charred flesh is? And of course, the uniform scorch marks took care of any pesky, incriminating blood stains.

When the fire department finally made it on the scene, all they saw was a tragedy, with one small miracle in the form of a delinquent with a record and a habit of sneaking away at night, including this one. One who had smelt smoke while hopping the fence back onto the grounds and had bravely run for help, but the fire had burned too long. Thus he became the lone survivor of a tragic house fire.

…

“13 people, most of them minors, are reported to be dead after a house fire broke out in a Queens boys’ home. Authorities arrived on scene at the Chang Group Home for Boys at around 1:47 this morning.”

Meng Yao heard the news report from his basement bedroom and bit his cheek knowing that Mrs. Jin had yet to leave for her hair appointment. It was barely the third day of school and she would already have ample opportunity to chastise him for being late. It didn’t matter that it was barely the third day of school and he was still working what was meant to be a summer job at the local video store. He’d been up until 2 am and his alarm had gone off no later than 6:30. Who could blame him for hitting snooze and begging his younger brother, Xuanyu, to wake him at 7:00 am? Regardless, he hadn’t, and now Meng Yao was perched at the base of the stairwell waiting for Mrs. Jin to finish her coffee and leave for her appointment or at least get up for long enough to let Meng Yao sneak into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He was stuck listening to the news and Mrs. Jin’s snide commentary for another 3 minutes.

“After their preliminary investigation, the Fire Department of New York has declared the fire accidental, citing out-of-date electrical wiring and a faulty air conditioning system.” They played a brief clip of the Fire Chief expressing his condolences for the tremendous loss of life and explaining what the news anchor had already confirmed. “Our hearts here at the NYFD are with the surviving child,” he added bittersweetly before the broadcast presumably cut back to the station. “This youth is reported to be in state care until other arrangements can be made.” Meng Yao heard Mrs. Jin huff. “In other news—.”

“City’s gone to shit,” Mrs. Jin said, before flicking the channel to one of those morning talk shows stay-at-home wives liked. Stuff about new recipes and the best back-to-school buys. Mrs. Jin was the type of woman who would make others wait. It was her appointment after all, shouldn’t it be about her? If Meng Yao kept it up he’d be late anyway without the guarantee that he’d go unnoticed.

He trotted up the stairs, darting around the corner into the bathroom to no avail. “You’re still here? You’re already going to be late on the first week?” While Mrs. Jin certainly would not hold back with her words most days, today it was all in her tone. You’re still here was loaded with years of resentment and anticipation for the moment she would not have to see the reminder of her husband’s infidelity.

There was really no use explaining himself and even though an apology wouldn’t get him very far either, Meng Yao said sorry as he rushed into the kitchen to find an apple. That could be both breakfast and lunch, right?

“Morning,” he said routinely when Zixuan walked into the kitchen. It would be hard to tell that they spent their mornings rushing around the same kitchen. Where Zixuan was well-dressed, Meng Yao swum in awkwardly-fitting hand-me-downs Zixuan hadn’t touched since the 9th Grade. Where Meng Yao would try in vain to style the remnants of a bad bowl cut for three seconds in the mirror before giving up, Zixuan had the privilege of spending the morning in the shower to achieve his seemingly effortlessly coiffed hair. Zixuan flashed him a smile, more focused on packing his bag. The smile, momentarily lighting up his eyes, made Meng Yao conscious of his own bleary ones, a trait his step-mother was convinced he inherited from his mother. “Zixuan doesn’t look so lifeless” and whatnot when posing for photos. Maybe he had gotten that from his mother; a little way to assure everyone that perfect Zixuan and the inconvenient Meng Yao were only half-brothers.

“Hey,” he hesitated, noticing Zixuan was halfway out the kitchen. “Would you mind giving me a ride to school? I just, um, woke up late.” Zixuan’s brows furrowed and those bright eyes softened. “I won’t ask again,” he tried to assure with an awkward half-smile.

“I’m picking up Yanli,” Zixuan responded matter-of-factly.

Of course. Though he hadn’t said no, he was picking up his girlfriend. It was stupid to ask, Meng Yao realized. Who would want to pick up their girlfriend with their brother in the car? So sexy, right? “You know what, never mind. I can figure it out.”

Zixuan’s brows remained furrowed, “Yeah, whatever you want.” He walked out the door.

It wasn’t the worst situation Meng Yao had been in, not by a long shot. He remembered the three weeks in foster care between his mother’s death and being dropped at his estranged father’s doorstep: his things in a trashbag, loud dormitories where it was impossible to sleep, being nearly a month behind in school work even though the year had just started, nearly choking to death trying not to cry himself to sleep. Not that any of this went away when he arrived in the quiet new-build suburb in upstate New York with a fading tan from the Nevada sun, like he’d been on vacation, and his mom’s ashes precariously in his 13 year old arms. Who would blame Madam Jin for turning up her nose?

Xuanyu, who was just 8 when Meng Yao had arrived, was the only one who seemed excited to have him, and that was mostly because he would not have to sleep alone in the basement anymore. Meng Yao remembered the pit in his stomach, seeing that scrawny little boy eager to show him around and explaining that he didn’t need to be afraid anymore since his older half-brother was here now and could protect him from the monsters that undoubtedly hid in the shadows of the dimly lit storage-room-turned-bedroom. In hindsight, it should have been a warning sign when Xuanyu innocently, almost pathologically naively, explained that the Jin couple kept ‘forgetting’ to buy him a nightlight. But at the time, it didn’t matter to Meng Yao. He was a few months shy of his 14th birthday and didn’t plan on staying long, especially once he got his first New York job at the local thrift store. About three weeks into that, the best he’d gotten to show for his hard work was a much-appreciated nightlight for his new little brother and an empty shoebox which he labelled “College Fund.” His mother would want him to go to college, rather than become a 14-year-old high school dropout working some shitty job for the rest of his life.

Three years later, and he was walking to his last year of high school, dreaming of college admissions. Years of working and stashing away half of every paycheque had brought him close to his goal and, according to the guidance counselor, he had the grades to get a decent scholarship, so long as he kept up the hard work and the extra curriculars. And oh did he: a full time table, staying later after school for the last 3 years; Mondays and Wednesdays for Student Council and Fridays for Model UN, Thursday mornings for Debate club. “No sports though,” the guidance counselor had told him last year, face screwed like it was a crime to have asthma. “Lots of scholarships in sports, you know.” Meng Yao had just rolled his eyes. Regardless, when would he have the time for a sport? Meng Yao wondered if he could squeeze something else in as he walked to school. This was his last year after all. Maybe Drama club, or... His thoughts trailed of, exhausted. Who was he kidding, how on Earth would he keep going like this? Working nights and weekends, falling onto his bed after a long day of classes and extra curriculars and mind numbingly boring shifts at Video World, just to get up a few hours later to do it all again.

But there were things about his life that he had actually come to enjoy.

“Morning,” Meng Yao whispered as he plopped down beside Lan Xichen.

Math class wasn’t all that bad. For one, Meng Yao was quite good at it. Maybe Mathletes would round out his college application. The senior math teacher had been overjoyed when he heard that Meng Yao planned on majoring in Finance and becoming an accountant, so he probably would be overjoyed to have Meng Yao on the team this year. Or anyone on the team for that matter.

“Did you sleep in?” Xichen whispered under the lesson on Functions, even though he had a near-pathological fear of being rude.

“Yeah.”

Xichen held out a granola bar. “You didn’t eat, did you?”

Meng Yao took the bar in response. No. He gave Xichen a familiar half-smile in thanks and got one in return.

Eating in class was technically frowned upon, but fainting in class would mean certain social death, so Meng Yao decided to nibble on small pieces of granola whenever the teacher was turning towards the board. When he had finally finished the granola and rubbed his fingers against each other to get rid of the sticky film of leftover honey, Xichen handed him a perfectly clean cloth handkerchief. Sometimes it was hard to forget that the uncle Xichen was living with was old, rich, and as traditionalist as it got.

“Thanks again,” whispered Meng Yao, and, with a bat of his eyelashes, added: “How lucky I am to have befriended such a perfect gentleman. Should I iron it before I give it back?”

“That would be much appreciated,” answered Xichen with an expression so serious it could only be mocking, “For if my uncle were to find out I bequeathed this to anyone but a fiancée or a wife he would surely lock me in the attic for the rest of the semester.”

Meng Yao hid his laugh with a cough and their teacher turned around.

“Anything to share with the class, Mr. Meng? Mr. Lan?”

“Nothing of note, I apologize,” said Meng Yao before Xichen could feel guilty, “I’m having some issues with my contacts and asked Xichen to help me read the last equation. I did not mean to disturb the lesson.”

The teacher gave his favourite student a reproachful look but continued his lesson without another hitch. Xichen looked at Meng Yao with an amused twitch to his lips.

“I did not know your perfect vision had worsened.”

“Do keep my secret.”

They turned their focus back to the lesson and before long the bell ended the most pleasant ninety minutes of Meng Yao’s day.

“Will I see you at lunch?”

If he imagined a hopeful undertone in Xichen’s voice that was nobody’s business.

“I’ll be present.”

He would decidedly not sit with Xichen and Nie Mingjue, but he would be present. It had its perks. He was less easily distracted from his actual food intake.

“Could I talk to you about homecoming then? There are some things we need to figure out and I would really like your opinion on them. We’ll decorate later this week, but I know you’re busy, so I’d like to run it by you during school hours.”

“Um, yeah, of course.” Meng Yao tried not to sound overexcited, it was just homecoming after all. But it was a welcomed distraction. He fondly remembered when they were on prom committee last year, even though they didn’t attend. Tossing streamers into the bag and then at each other while they swept up the gymnasium. There was something so liberating about being alone with Xichen, their laughter echoing off the walls as they ate leftover finger foods and talked about their summer plans. “I can meet you in the library after class on Friday, if that works?”

“That would be lovely.” Xichen smiled and headed down the hall toward English class.

—

Model UN was fine. They spent most of the hour preparing for the next conference, pouring over books about Nuclear Warfare and Treaty Rights. Truth be told, Meng Yao was only half listening while he took notes on the school typewriter. He was about halfway through mindlessly typing “excellent work, gang. Have a nice weekend” before he realized they were breaking.

Xichen was in the library as promised, happily getting ahead on his Physics homework. “Sorry,” Meng Yao apologized.

“What for?”

“I’m late.”

“Hardly.” Xichen produced an apple from his bag. “It’s really fine, I know that you have Model UN and all.”

“Thanks,” Meng Yao accepted the apple.

“Plus, Wangji has volleyball practice tonight anyway and he needs a ride home.” Xichen produced a binder of details and Meng Yao practically swooned when he saw the colour-coding. It was a system they had devised together: Green for finances, blue for food and drink, red for legal things—forms and whatnot—and so forth. “So, decorations. I revised the budget and we can free up some extra money. We need a theme, no? For the dance portion.”

“Yes. And if we’re doing spirit week—do we have spirit days picked out?”

Xichen flipped a few pages ahead, mumbling to himself, “School colours, Flashback Day, PJ Day, Beach Day, Jersey Day.”

Meng Yao screwed up his face at the disjointed roster. God, didn’t their co-council members have any idea about cohesion? “Well, we have to keep Jersey Day for Game Night, but we can build up to the home-coming dance theme with each spirit day, no?”

Xichen gleefully crossed out PJ Day and Beach Day and Meng Yao swore he looked relieved. “What about doing Americana? Its the school’s 75th anniversary this year, we can keep the School Colours, the jersey and the flashback and substitute Beach Day and PJ Day for something a little more New York or at least closer to New Hoenderloo High history.”

“Gangster Day?” Meng Yao suggested.

Xichen scoffed. “What does New Hoenderloo have to do with the mob?”

“I don’t know, our prime export is corn and varsity jocks. But we’re so close to New York that I’m sure people won’t bat an eye.”

Xichen nodded and added Gangster Day to the agenda. He supposed it was better than Farm Day or something.

“And, um, we can do a classic American Day? Red, White, and Blue and that junk. Founding fathers.”

“Would work.”

“And we can decorate the homecoming dance with American Classics, a jukebox instead of a DJ, we can serve milkshakes, and do ‘50s Diner lighting?”

Xichen laughed. He loved Meng Yao’s big ambitions. “Remember, I said, some money was freed up. We’re hardly Studio 54.”

“Let me see that budget.” Meng Yao poured over the numbers, looking for missed unnecessary spending. “A jukebox is way cheaper than a DJ, you know. That saves us a couple hundred bucks easy. Plus, if we raise the ticket prices by a few dollars, we can make up the difference. That’s not even including fundraisers like the Football Team Charity Car Wash or the Meat Raffle.” Meng Yao wrote out all the numbers neatly so that Xichen would have something to show the rest of the committee on how to really throw a great home-coming.

“See, this is why we need you to be vice-president!”

Meng Yao blushed. “Really? Little ol’ me?”

He suddenly became less playful when he saw Lan Wangji appear in the library. Wangji was, of course, polite, like his older brother, and, of course, also socially awkward, drastically unlike his older brother. So, he would wait stoically in the library entry until his brother would notice him, rather than interrupting them and risking making small talk with Meng Yao. “Your brother is done with practice, I think.”

Xichen waved and asked Wangji a bunch of questions: How was practice? When is the next game? Would he need something to eat? And Wangji replied simply: “Good. Tuesday. No. Can’t spoil dinner.”

“Ready to go home?”

“Yes.”

Meng Yao packed his things up alongside Xichen, happily chattering about how much progress they made in just a half hour. “It’s really coming together,” he added as he went to turn left to catch the bus.

“Would you like a ride home?” Xichen offered.

“It wouldn’t be too much trouble, would it?”

“You live a couple blocks away from us. It would be far more convenient.”

Meng Yao’s lips curled softly, gratefully. “Then, I would love a ride. Thank you.”

—

“Looks like you have guests,” Xichen observed, trying to make pleasant conversation as always. Meng Yao recognized that car. God, he wondered if that social worker worked on commission, a little extra for every traumatized child she dragged to Jin Guanshan. God knows there were probably enough bastards to make up an entire career. Meng Yao’s tired sigh turned into an airy half-laugh, mostly at his own joke. But Xichen smiled. “Have a lovely visit,” he added when he pulled into the driveway and let Meng Yao out of the car.

“Thanks. And thanks again for the ride home, I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime, A-Yao.”

Mrs. Jin had put out tea and coffee, even a tray of baked goods. Her gentle sips and small, delicate bites quickly hardened into a tight frown. Meng Yao felt like he did three years ago. Mrs. Jin was consistent; she wore the same tired, expectant face and flashed her cold, irritated gaze at Meng Yao when he froze in the living room. “A-Yao, our other son.” Meng Yao almost rolled his eyes at how much Mrs. Jin visibly struggled to call him ‘our son.’ “You must remember him?” Her voice was pleasant enough when talking to the social worker.

“I do. How are you? How is school? Still playing soccer?”

“Good. And good.” Meng Yao had never played soccer in his life, but he played along and told her that he might even be getting a scholarship for it. No one knew enough to correct him, anyway.

She gave him a well-rehearsed polite smile, before turning her attention back toward Mrs. Jin. “I trust you know the drill. If there are any problems, please do not hesitate to call. Though you should know.” She trailed off and Meng Yao could see her thinking through what to say next. “You know, he has had some problems in his group homes, but those situations are volatile for any child. A stable, loving home like this one will probably do him good.”

Meng Yao’s attention turned to the muffled conversation Xuanyu was having with someone in the basement.

So he had a new brother now, he supposed. And a new roommate.

“And this is Meng Yao!” He heard Xuanyu say before he was even halfway down the stairs. Really, who else could it have been? Who else would want to go down into their creepy, damp basement bedroom? Meng Yao forced his most welcoming smile. He remembered how shy he felt when he first came to New York. Shy and lonely and so, so angry at the world. A smile and a polite, calm introduction was the least he could do.

The boy, who couldn’t have been much younger than he was, gave him a full smile. “Hi.” There was something so juvenile about that smile that it unnerved Meng Yao. It wasn’t innocent like Xuanyu’s, happy regardless of his circumstances. No, this was boyish in a hedonistic way, sharp and carefree; all pointed canines and no baby teeth.

“Xue Yang.” He said, bobbing his chin and widening his smile to an almost wolfish state.

“Nice to meet you, Xue Yang.” Meng Yao could thankfully recover the conversation quite quickly. He welcomed first years all the time, and even though Xue Yang was going into Junior year and would hardly be as intimated of him as a 13-year-old, he was sure the faltering of his welcoming tone would go unthought of. “I can’t imagine your coming here was brought on by good circumstances, so—”

“Oh no, asshole cardboard suburbanites were my childhood dream.” Meng Yao quickly learned that Xue Yang liked to laugh at his own obnoxious sarcasm. A lot. And Xuanyu, ecstatic at yet another older brother, also liked to laugh.

“So, if you want to talk about it,” he continued, trying to move on from Xue Yang’s instant dislike of the situation, “I would be more than happy to.” It really was not Meng Yao’s place to judge him for it. If his childhood was anything like his own, filled with promises of a dad who was just coming back, always just coming back someday, then Xue Yang was likely utterly disappointed by the dad who had just relegated him to the basement and was headed back to work after making his wife do all the talking. No fancy house and fully-stock fridge could make up for that.

“Meng Yao is really good at talking,” Xuanyu assured. “My mom slit her wrists when I was five.”

Xue Yang scoffed at his candour, a cheeky grin spreading. “You really just say whatever the hell you want, eh?” Xuanyu nodded, just happy to get someone’s attention. Xue Yang loved it when kids were stupid.

“And my aunt always told me it was my fault. But Yao-gege said its not and he always tells me that when I have nightmares. So, he can make you feel better.”

“Xuanyu.” Meng Yao gave him a gentle pat on the back of his head, dropping his voice to a whisper. “remember, we don’t have to tell everyone everything, okay?”

“Why not? We’re brothers!”

“Yeah,” Xue Yang turned back to his trashbag-suitcases and began to take over the bottom bunk. “We’re brothers, aren’t we, Yaoyao?”

My bed…, Meng Yao thought about explaining Xue Yang could have the clearly unused top bunk but thought against it. What was the difference anyway?

#mdzs #mdzs fanfiction #jin guangyao #lan xichen #mo xuanyu #xue yang #jin zixuan #the untamed #Full disclaimer this was conceptualized and written by people who have never once stepped foot in an American high school #‘80s Slasher AU #MDZS Slasher AU

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ect0-vius · 4 months ago

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RANT TIME RANT TIME

I'm sorry in advance if this is considered as blasphemy to dearest Ixol fans. Please tell me if it is.

Well, I’ve been silent and self-composed (sort of) for long enough. Time to see the glimmer of madness that hides within my psyche. (These are just my excessive rants about ripping out the character from the Points and utterly rewriting the entire story and lore of AF. Especially the sequel. Please take this with a grain of salt).

Following some of his canon dialogue, Ixol is shown as having little-to-no control over his emotions, with mood swings where he’ll be from a silly fella cracking up a joke to acting aggressive and violent in the single flip of a switch. As such, he is unreadable and unpredictable, most notably uncontrollable when he flips to his true form and starts behaving like a rabid dog. Such traits aren’t what most friends are looking for. Unless those friends are basically living in your head.

(This is me trying to keep some self-control and try to remember what the topic is, which is about the voices in Ixol’s head which might possibly be a factor to his behaviour)

I suppose, the voices in Ixol’s head are an influence on his behavior. I mean – a swarm of individual voices with individual thoughts filling up one’s head? Can one even hear themselves think? And I want to know just how long had they been manifesting in his head? Ixol may not be able to form thoughts independently. Besides, why should he? When there are omnipotent creatures of higher order lingering in his mind, looking out for him and stating their seperate opinions on certain things. Cyalm’s discretness. The interior of Cavern Club. Mino’s capability to process data and give out accurate information. Star Savior’s perfectly shaped lips. Why even form thought when there are people that would think for him? What about decision making, actions, opinions, the luxury of having his friends do it in his stead? All those would be decided, argued, conversed, by the voices in his head. He’ll generate or speak up his thoughts or retorts in conversation every now and then but otherwise he’s a walking, sentient, living puppet, every action relying on the puppeteer; a marrionette with strings. These are all when he’s alone. What if he’s talking to a physical somebody, not abstract beings? Maybe he relies entirely on the voices and his emotions in conversations like this. If it’s Anshine trying to have a talk about behavior, ruin his day. The voices agree that Anshine is far too insistent on showing Ixol how to behave. It’s not like Anshine is the little perfect angel everyone thinks he is. Having a conversation with Ulipse, and all the sudden she got snappy for no reason? The voices suggest teaching her a lesson. A little bit of fire would do the trick. A wrong opinion from a naïve Point? Claw them to shreds. Years, years and YEARS of building friendship and trust between him and the voices in his head. And then, it was all gone within an hour.

Would the Points even BELIEVE the chaotic, unpredictable, uncontrollable and undoubtedly unhinged Point had such friends? Practically anyone would point out (no pun intended) at Ixol, think the voices in Ixol’s head were just his own inner voices and thoughts and exclaim ‘YOU’RE CRAZY’! There would be some Points attempting to comfort him, yes. But would anyone understand him? He had just lost his guiding light. His only friends, the voices that had swarmed his mind for ages. He’d HEARD THEIR SCREAMS as Cyalm was killing them all. Bloodbath without blood. Is Ixol able to comprehend such a thing? The drawing above is when Ixol’s head literally cut in half. Almost, as a result to Cyalm slaughtering his friends. (And yes, it’s also an excuse to take some Lackadaisy quote-unquote ‘inspiration’). He’d mourn their deaths on the first day, feeling very reckless and uneasy at the emptiness in his head. Next day? He’d wake up groggily, the urge of arson shaking his fingertips, waiting for the voices in his head to greet him with good mornings, to decide what should he burn today, which Points to annoy. Instead, the only thing that greeted him was the silence. What if the voices are just sulking because he did something wrong yesterday? They’ll be back soon. Right?

Disassociative amnesia is a disassociative disorder caused by trauma or stress. In which, due to what I have stated, is the former. I’ll be damned if seeing (or hearing, rather) your closest and ONLY friends get SLAUGHTERED is NOT TRAUMATISING AT ALL!!! Maybe I just don’t want to let my precious endless suffering creatures see even a sliver of sunlight, but maybe Ixol would get into denial or lose the memory of it entirely. The only thing steering his world suddenly disappear. How would he adapt to it? To the void that had replaced his mind, no longer hearing the everlasting chorus of voices that he had grown used to for a long, long time? Maybe his mental instability would be more pronounced. He’ll have to be independent starting from there. No one to validate his thoughts, his actions. No one to tell him what he should do. UNLESS… HE CAN CONSULT THE POINTS! THEY keep telling him how to behave, what he’s SUPPOSED to be doing instead of setting coats on fire or pouring cyanide in Cyalm’s tea! They’ll REPLACE his friends while Ixol waits for the voices to return! But how shall he approach the Points? Make them his new-found friends? He’s aware of his reputation, yet there’s no guiding light. How will he take under the Points’ wings if there are no confident and comforting voices poking around in his head?

OKAY, I’ll stop there before I get voted out of this island!

*YEETS OUT OF THE WINDOW*

#i just feel so anxious rn #like he's not he only creature that has been changed character-wise #OH - AND THIS RANT IS ONLY JUST SCRATCHING THE SURFACE!#AT LEAST IT'S RELEVANT TO A CANON THING #oh well #adventure forward 2 #adventure forward #ixol #ect0 stuff

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goodluckclove · 2 days ago

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In Defense of Self-Inserts

This is written in response to an ask sent from the Always Delightful @fukurouonthesea, who asked for my thoughts on creating unique characters in regards to a tabletop game character they're building. My first thought on getting this question is that Fukuro likely assumes unique characters are a subject I know things about - good to hear! Good that people assume I know things! That works out well for me.

So I can speak more on the perspective of writing characters for prose and scripts rather than TTRPGs. I recently finished my first campaign, but I was sort of tricked into playing by my wife who was DM-ing and ended up going the whole time with a joke character I really couldn't find any actual dramatic pathos in*. My next attempt will hopefully be more intentionally-crafted. But also still probably chaotic. I tend to lean that way, apparently.

But characters! How do you do them? Or, more accurately, how do I do them? There's a ton of paths to get to the same goal of Cool Guy That's Fun To Read About, but I'd love to take this opportunity to put off actually working on Migration Patterns for a while longer and instead ramble about something I've been wanting to dive into for a while.

Self-inserts are actually super useful! They're great! All of my characters are self-inserts and virtually no one has ever commented on that! I genuinely don't think they've noticed!

(this is a long one)

What is a self-insert, really? The definition I'm the most familiar with in writing is a character drawing (maybe even heavily drawing) from yourself as the author. I saw people back in the day get very mean about self-inserts, considering them an overlap with the Original Sin of Mary Sue-dom. It's 2024, though, and these days Mary Sue is primarily a term used to describe female characters that a critic personally doesn't like. Still, I've had a TON of writers come to me worrying about writing self-inserts, and I'm consistently confused.

Maybe it's because I've been doing this for long enough that I've built up an immunity to the dumb nonsense people say online posing as "Objective Writing Advice". Maybe it's because I'm a huge fan of Kurt Vonnegut, a man who straight up wrote himself as a side character in a few of his most notable books. I've never gone that far, but I absolutely pull from my own life and identity for all of my characters and it consistently works.

I think when a reader points out a character as a self-insert, it's a reflex of seeing someone with notably less nuance than the rest of the cast. This character - let's name them Goobis - is written with the near-explicit intent to be just super cool. It's an instant turn-off for me in a written work if there's one person I can just look at and immediately know they're crafted to be the fandom darling. Goobis might have faults, but if they do, they're pretty cool faults. They're things that could definitely be bad if pushed to a thematic height (Caring too much, over-protective, self-sacrificing, a level of snark that's guaranteed to make impressionable fans slightly insufferable for a few years), but they aren't.

Goobis, typically, gets kid gloves in terms of the treatment of the story. Plot Armor, maybe. Or they might be a Plot Martyr that has every bad thing ever happen to them and everyone around them is either an old-timey villain or a kind cardboard cutout that weeps oh no poor Goobis!! Both are fine. There's an audience for both, clearly. But from what I've seen those are the types of characters that typically get readers - myself included - to think they're a form of wish-fulfillment.

You can do wish-fulfillment in writing. You should do that at least one, it's nice and good for bone health. But man, there are a lot of writers (Including adult ones that I've known in my real life) who can benefit from - like - distance, man. Draw from yourself and your life, but unless you're ready for a conversation maybe don't be one-to-one accurate.

I have a relative who got a masters in creative writing. I found his novella online and aimed to read it and send him my thoughts as a show of support, only to find that it was actually unbelievably pretentious and I honestly couldn't get through it. What drew my attention, though, was that the main character was dealing with the grief of his father, who died literally the exact same way my relative's actual father died.

I caught it immediately and I think I whispered "oh no" out loud. Like, what are you doing dude? Your mom read that shit, and she had to see you describe an entirely accurate depiction of how her fucking husband died that is such a weird move. Processing grief through writing is great - but change some fucking specifics, you weirdo. Make it a mom instead of a dad, or maybe an uncle or grandpa if you're keeping the patriarch thing. Change the reason why he needed surgery, or the medical complication that caused his death. Maybe don't name the exact hospital where your Dad died in this non-autobiographical work. Fucking hell.

Shifting some surface-level details from events in your life is, often times, enough to make it so people directly involved in these events can read them and not even realize what you're referencing. You can also tweak a certain event slightly to fictionalize it even further, while still having the honesty of your real life experience. I dropped out of school while starting the same creative writing program my relative graduated from. What if I stayed? What would my life look like? What would my writing look like? Would I still even enjoy writing? The concept of sliding door moments is a fascinating one to me and it's something I think about a lot.

On a more internal level in terms of character, you know more of yourself than anyone else in your life. You know your fears and your faults. You know what makes you lovable - or what people say they love you for, or what you'd like them to love about you. You probably know things about yourself that are so painful and trembling that you assume that if anyone else finds out about them they'd immediately realize you're worthless as a human being. If you don't know any of that, maybe you should. Internal contemplation - or external though something like therapy - is absolutely beneficial in a ton of ways, including for your art.

People are complicated. Everyone is complicated, and the average person as the most experience with their own network of identity. And in my own work (The only craft I can really speak for), putting at least a touch of myself in the characters I create has really caused people to engage and relate to them.

And it's weird, because I can't really think of any major faults that any of my characters have. At least, not in the way a lot of newer writers describe character faults - like some rubber stamp easily marked in the center of a person's forehead. There are things about the cast of my series Songbird Elegies that I see as struggles that either have to be processed or managed. Someone might be self-loathing, or struggle with emotional intimacy, or have a temper that will absolutely steer them wrong. They might be impulsive to a degree that is no longer Quirky Cute. That's not great.

But growing writers will sometimes make a fault out to be a thing that you can see very clearly in a person above anything else. As if you can point at a guy on the street and say BAM - SEXIST! Which - yeah, you can do that. I can have brief interactions with people I don't actually know and come away thinking that someone is stupid or lazy or irresponsible or any number of bad qualities. It's only if I got to actually know them - either though a relationship or just somehow following their lives as an outside observer - that I'd learn they slipped through the cracks in school so deeply that they just stopped caring, or they went through a loss that resulted in them choosing to survive instead of actually live.

Your worst qualities weren't predestined from birth. The Meyers-Brigg is absolute nonsense mainly utilized by the military and most major corporations. There are things you might hate about yourself that once served to protect you. This is true for everyone you see, but when you're just starting out in art it might be hard to see that. That's why it's so helpful to first draw from yourself.

So draw from yourself to whatever degree you want. Give Goobis your sense of humor, but maybe use it as an opportunity to explore why you're so quick to joke and what doing that might be avoiding. Have Goobis experience the same childhood birthday that irrevocably changed the course of your life, but maybe change what year it happened and make it a close-up magician you found instead of a Spiderman Impersonator. In fact, consider seeing what would change if it was Goobis' innocent little brother who stumbled across Spiderman's dead body instead of Goobis themself. If you're willing to be honest - not excessively self-deprecating or praising, just honest - you'll probably be surprised how many people see themselves in the people you write.

God that was long. I hope that helped maybe? Helped someone?

*It was an eldritch horror wearing a cowboy Hat of Disguise to look like a bulldog. His name was Socks. He ended the campaign traveling to early 2000s Philadelphia and kidnapping an NPC with him. This was after Socks paid for the NPCs Wizard school education, then paid for the NPC to become a potter after crossing paths again, and then sacrificed the NPC to be an immortal slave to a Time Spider. In the climax of this campaign Socks used the Teleport cantrip from Wizards101 to banish the final enemy to the Tomb of the Beguiler. Things went off the rails real quick.

#writeblr #writing community #on writing #writing resources #this got long fukuro #i had a LOT to say #you gave me an opportunity

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leoruby-draws · 8 months ago

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hello hello hello

i just want to say i love your little drawings so much they're adorable and so full of life and everything feels exciting in them and i love how you draw and make really fun stuff for many of the minor characters, you're doing such a good job with them and it gives me so much joyy

Hi Hi Hi

Thanks for liking my stuff! Happy to bring you joy, drawing these brings me joy!

Also its fun to get into and draw minor characters because their reading lists are super short lol! But I like to give a little love to characters that most people might not know about, in fact here's some random drawings that I had in the back-burner for the past year! Never could find a chance to just post them:

Here's a cute drawing of Cyclone, Maxine Hunkle! Wanted to give her a cute costume makeover. Kinda has a magical girl look to it huh? Took a bit of inspiration from Ojamajo Doremi, but also she's meant to resemble Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz! Both the princess and the witch. I have a bit of idea of what I'm going do with her, but that's for later.

Got a drawing of Gan, Jason's friend from the Knight White books. Not sure if she exist in my Training Wheels au, but I like her a lot. Her rapport with Jason was fun to read.

Here it looks like the Outlaws are trying to recruit new members, from the Relative Heroes group, Damara Sinclaire (Allure) and Tyson Gilford (Blindside). They're not likely to join, preferring to stick with their own group. Just as well since Damara's powers might make things a rather chaotic, she doesn't need that drama in her life lol. Tho I like the thought of Tyson helping out now and then, his invisibility would be pretty useful.

Here's some random assortment of heroes, Ray Terrill the...Ray. Amethyst, tho top pic is uncolored (im lazy) but theres a Sailor Amethyst to make up for that.

There's the first Green Lantern (Alan Scott) with his kids,Jade (Jennifer Lynn Hayden) and Obsidian (Todd James Rice). Wonder why their babies here, de-aging mishap?

Jason and Toni gossip about their fellow teammates, and down below Jason decides to annoy a young Kyle Rayner. A universal constant!

Todd can't help but join in!

Also some cute father-son bonding! I sent this to someone else earlier, so imma just stick here too.

For a really minor character, here's Jay, Eddie and Rose meeting up with a very strange new friend!

And lastly here are the Metal Men, or should I say the mini-Metal Men. Read some comics about them, including a bit of silver age as well (they get destroyed pretty often, kinda funny ngl). I thought about what kinda sidekicks they could have, but I didn't want to look up metals or learn about metallurgy or chemistry or whatever. So I just made them smaller, its just temporary though, aren't they cute? Look at poor Copper, she just wants to join in!

Anyways, hope that wasn't too much, tagging all of this is gonna suck.

Sorry I haven't been posting, due to Tumblr being a pile of shit and trying give our stuff to ai websites. So I thought I would download nightshade and glaze, but that didn't work out at all (I got a new laptop but it still wont render for me at all). So I'm just gonna hope my opt-out in the settings will be enough for now. Sigh!

Hope you like all this anon, might be a while til I post again. Later!

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crescentrivers · 6 months ago

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LONG POST TIME!!! Expanding on the swap au mentioned in this post cause a few people seemed interested and also I just wanted to.

Edit: this post is kind of outdated for the au and its cringe so ignore it, more roleswap stuff coming eventually maybe

The idea was originally just a joke like “what if Pokey and Paul were role swapped lol that would be fun to draw sometime for like a shitpost or for like next April fools” but it spiraled because like the original post mentioned my brain cannot leave things alone

So the lords in black + Webby are humans and some characters that were originally human take their place, I know that’s been done before but who becomes gods is different I think. I haven’t really decided who’s swapped with who, (other than Pokey and Paul are swapped and Webby and Hannah are swapped) but it’ll probably ended up being the LIB swap with their blorbos. The only thing is it’s kind of hard to picture some of these characters as that kind of evil, so I wouldn’t say they’re all chaotic evil now but they’re absolutely some kind of evil.

(It’s not like a super direct roleswap all the time but the main idea is the og gods are humans and some humans are the gods now.)

I don’t have much decided with this au yet (if you have ideas I’d love to heard them) but what I do have down I’ll put under the cut:

So human names

Pokey - Porter

Blinky - Bentley

Tinky - Terrance

Nibbly - Nathan

Wiggly - William

Webby - Willow

All of them are half siblings (except Wiggly and Webby might be twins my age headcanons keep changing) who have the same mom. They had a rough childhood and their family is very dysfunctional, they’re able to reconnect in most timelines but the stories usually start with their relationship being strained in some way.

Hannah is the youngest of the gods, Webby/Willow met her when she was a kid. At the time they acted around the same age but Willow being a human aged faster (Hannah’s actually like a few hundred years older than Willow at the least) so Hannah’s still a kid/teen. She has matured some since then though so she doesn’t act the exact same as when they met. I think that when they met Hannah would’ve been more chaotic neutral, not really understanding right and wrong and just wanting to have fun (kind of like the Collector from TOH) but thanks to her friendship with Willow she started to understand the value of life on Earth and that the adult gods are kind of awful people, so now she tries to protect humanity.

Another thing I can talk more about is what the roleswapped TGWDLM would be about since that’s where this au idea first started, still not like fully decided but there is some interesting stuff involving it.

Unlike TGWDLM where the story is sort of from the hives POV and the hive/Pokey makes choices that would point to them seeing Paul as the musical’s main character, Paul doesn’t really care about Porter, only putting special focus on him when he gets in his way. The story is more just from Porter’s POV.

It starts with Porter returning to his hometown of Hatchetfield because a musical he’s acting in is on tour there (the musical is either Mamma Mia like in TGWDLM or Santa Claus is Going to Highschool I haven’t decided which) so he reunites with his half siblings. But nothing good ever happens in Hatchetfield so a meteor crashes into the theater. Then the mayor (whoever that is in this au) just bans musicals. Note the anti musical thing isn’t a big part of Paul’s motivations in this au, it’s just kind of a thing that’s happening. If you’re going to take over the world with a hivemind you might as well ban the thing you don’t like, right? The only reason the story focuses on it at all is that this is from Porter’s POV and he’s a massive theatre kid.

Im not sure what Paul’s exact motivations are in this au, probably power/just wanting control or him trying to bring some fucked up kind of order/peace through mind control. Probably a mix of both idk. Also I don’t know what their real names are in this au but they aren’t Paul and Hannah, combing up with fancy eldritch names is hard.

In an alternate timeline where this is the musical we got instead of TGWDLM the gimic would obviously be different since the hivemind is no longer musical. Basically I picture that it would start with big grand ensemble numbers with even the solos or smaller group songs having back up singers, but overtime as more people succumb to the hive the numbers gets smaller and smaller as less people are left to participate. I’m not sure if that means the songs are diegetic and the musical-ness is actually being sucked out of the world or if it’s just a metaphorical thing to show how people keep getting infected.

Porter is upset but his siblings don’t really take things seriously until like murder starts happening and it becomes clear more is going on under the surface. So it becomes the family’s goal to survive and that goes about as well as it did for the gang in canon TGWDLM. Eventually this leads to Porter trying to destroy the hive by blowing up the meteor which also goes about as well as it did for Paul in canon TGWDLM.

Also through all this BS Porter has some kind of character arc. He probably starts of kind of egotistical and self centered, he’s not nearly as evil as canon Pokey but he’s kind of selfish and generally a jerk to those around him, mans probably has some kind of main character complex. But through all the horrors he probably starts to open up and be nicer to those around him, he still has a lot of an ego but he’s an actually nice guy who cares about his family and just wants to stop the force that’s hurting them.

If anyone actually read all of this I love you

#cresrivtalks #cresrivposts #hatchetfield #starkid #my post #swap au #pokotho #bliklotep #wiggog y'wrath #webby hatchetfield #nibblenephim #t’noy karaxis #paul matthews #hannah foster #hatchetfield au

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