#maybe I should have put all that in the main post. oh well. too late now.

[sluttywonwoo]

instead of you [part forty-one] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 

warnings: swearing, angst, alcohol consumption, smut (18+ ; mdni)

word count: 3.2k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

additional smut warnings: semi-public messing around, oral - m+f receiving

The other resorts along the shore were nice, yes, but they were also crowded to all hell. There’s no way you would have been able to relax at any of them. Not just because crowds make you anxious, but because Minho probably wouldn’t be able to show his face anywhere. He’d have to wear a hoodie to the pool or swim with a baseball cap on, and even those weren’t guaranteed to be foolproof. 

There were hardly any people occupying the outdoor spaces so late in the day so it was like you had the place to yourselves. You and Felix continued to play in the pool while Minho grilled steaks and Jisung worked upstairs. You offered to accompany Jisung while he cooked but he assured you that he was fine to do it himself. Sometimes you kept him company at home but you knew he liked to work alone as well. 

The room that you and Jisung were staying in was a standard hotel room but Nikki and Dom had a suite with a kitchenette that he could use to prepare the side dishes. 

You ate gathered around one of the fire pits as the sun sank beneath the waves in the distance. When it got too dark out, Dom lit the fire so that you could all see what you were eating. There were path lights littered around the resort but they weren’t bright enough to illuminate the adjacent sitting areas too. 

“I wish we had marshmallows,” you sighed. “We could roast them and make s’mores.”

“I think the bar sells little kits,” Jisung piped up. “I remember seeing a sign posted on their menu.”

“How convenient!” Nikki exclaimed. 

“Want me to grab some?” Minho offered, already standing from his seat. 

You had once again put yourself on the spot. Everyone was looking at you, waiting for your answer. 

“I-I’d feel bad. I’m the only one who wants them, so you don’t have to!”

“Don’t be silly, we’d all eat them,” Jisung assured you with a pat on your knee. 

“Yeah, I’ve always wanted to try s’mores,” Felix agreed. 

Your mouth dropped open in shock. “Wait, you’ve never had one?”

“They’re an American thing, babe.”

“Does that mean you’re the only other one here who has had a s’more?” you asked Jisung. 

“I might have had one before,” Minho added thoughtfully. 

“Might? You don’t remember?”

“Yeah, well, when we were on the first world tour we had a lot of bonfires and shit but I was pretty drunk at all of them so there could have been s’mores there, there could not have been. I dunno.”

“Anyway,” Nikki swooped in, averting the attention away from her eldest son’s anecdotes of underage drinking. “Minho, why don’t you go grab a few kits from the bar Ji mentioned? I think your father and I would like to try a s’more too.”

“How many do you think we need?” Minho asked. 

“It depends on how many each serves. Why don’t we start with two and if we run out of supplies we can send Felix up to get more.”

Felix made a face. “What, me?”

“It wouldn’t be fair to send Minho up twice,” Dom explained.

“What about Jisung?”

“He cooked dinner.”

“I’ll be right back,” Minho interjected, cutting Felix off before he could protest any further. “Does anyone want anything to drink while I’m over there?”

    He took everyone’s order and then disappeared in the direction of the bar. 

    “Do you think he’ll need help carrying stuff?” you whispered to Jisung after he left. 

“Oh, shit, maybe.”

“Should I go help him? Would that be weird?”

Jisung looked back toward his parents to check that they weren’t paying attention before answering. “No, I don’t think so. No one suspected anything other than me. Do you want me to go with you, though?”

“No, you cooked,” you reminded him, “you should stay and relax. I’ll go help him.”

He nodded. “Okay. Oh, but kiss me before you go.”

-

Minho was still waiting when you joined him at the bar. It was almost as deserted as the rest of the pool area. Only a couple of people were occupying the stools and they seemed to be strangers to each other, drinking in silence apart from the waves crashing on the shore nearby and the occasional sound of the blender.

“Hey, stranger,” you said, grabbing Minho’s attention with an elbow to his side. 

“Hey... did someone forget to ask for something?”

“No, I came to help you. We realized it’s a lot of stuff to carry all by yourself.”

He scoffed. “You doubted me?”

The bartender placed the drinks and s’mores kit down on the counter in front of Minho right at that moment, leaving both of you to size up all there was to bring back to the fire pit. 

“You could have carried all that without spilling anything?”

“Fine, maybe it’s good that you came,” he grumbled. 

“Maybe?”

He set his jaw and took a deep breath. “It is good that you came. Thank you for helping. Happy?”

“Ecstatic.”

You grabbed two of the drinks while Minho took the rest, holding the plastic bags of s’mores supplies between his teeth. 

Nikki and Dom cheered when you reappeared with everything. The twins looked marginally happier. It was honestly as much as you could ask for from them. 

You spent the rest of the evening teaching the Hans how to make, what was in your opinion, the perfect s’more. There were only a few skewers to go around so everyone had to take turns, but it was nice to be able to take your time with something and relax. There hadn’t been much time to do that on this trip. Jisung had warned you of that in the beginning but you were still way more exhausted than you expected to be at this point. At least it was almost over. 

The thought of the trip ending was one that you had been pushing to the back of your mind for weeks now. Especially now that Jisung knew what had happened, you didn’t want to think about what would happen when you went back home. Would you grow apart? Would he distance himself once he was no longer in forced proximity with you? Would Minho break up with you? It wasn’t just something you could ignore now. There were only a matter of days left. 

When it was over, you would go back to Seoul with the Hans until the summer ended officially. But that would be different too. 

“You’re burning your marshmallow, love,” Nikki said softly, putting her hand on your shoulder to get your attention. 

“Oh!” you exclaimed and pulled your skewer out of the heat. You blew the flame out and transferred it onto a graham cracker. 

“Do you want a new one?” Dom asked. 

“No, that’s okay! I like them burnt, actually. I just didn’t mean to leave it in the fire for so long. It could have made a mess.”

Jisung’s dad shrugged as if to say ‘suit yourself’ before taking the rod from you and reloading it with fresh marshmallows. 

If it was woodburning, the fire would slowly start to dwindle as the kindling turned to ash. Since it wasn’t, it was still burning as brightly as it had been at the start of the evening when Dom finally turned the propane off. Nikki collected the empty cups and dirty skewers to return to the bar. 

“Good night, kids. Don’t stay up too late.”

-

Felix was the first out of the four of you to go up to his room, leaving you with your best friend and... Minho. 

The pool area was completely empty by then. 

“I’ll uh, I’ll leave you two,” Jisung said and stood to leave. 

You grabbed his hand to stop him. “Wait, no, you don’t have to go.”

“Yeah,” Minho agreed, a little less convincingly. “You should stay.”

Jisung shook his head. “No thanks, I’d rather not third-wheel.”

“Ji-”

“Take as much time as you need,” he said to you. “Just don’t get fucking caught by anyone else.”

You waited for him to leave before slumping forward and sighing into your hands. 

“I thought you said he forgave you,” Minho whispered. 

“He did. That doesn’t mean he’s okay with it,” you sighed.

Minho leaned back and stretched his arm across the back of the loveseat, inviting you to sit with him. You crossed over to his side and joined him, allowing yourself to lean into his side. He wrapped his arm around you and squeezed your shoulder. It felt nice, to do something so domestic with him, even while sitting in complete silence. Still, you worried about someone seeing you.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked. 

“You.”

“What about me?”

“Just you.”

You didn’t want to give him the details and risk ruining the mood so you hoped he was content with that answer. Thankfully, he didn’t ask you to elaborate. 

You shivered suddenly, unintentionally but thankfully changing the subject. 

“Are you cold?” Minho asked. 

“A little.”

“Should I turn the fire pit back on?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s so dark out now. It’ll only draw attention to us.”

“I don’t want you to be cold, though.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Minho didn’t look convinced. “Why don’t we get in the hot tub? You still have your bathing suit on, right?”

“Are we allowed to?” 

He shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

You followed Minho over to one of the many hot tubs on the property. It was tucked away behind the now-deserted tiki bar and also totally empty. Minho turned on the jets and ventured down into the water, holding his hand out for you to get in behind him. 

You let out a sigh as you sank into the bubbling water, closing your eyes and resting your head against the pool’s edge.  

“Better?”

“So much better.”

You looked over to see him smile. “Good.”

You hadn’t realized how cold you were until you were warm. The chill had seeped through your bathing suit too. You could feel it ebbing out of the fabric as well as your muscles the longer you sat in the water. 

Minho settled next to you and put his hand on your thigh. It was comforting even though his hand was still cold.  

“This is nice,” he said. 

“It is nice,” you agreed. “I like being able to do just nothing with you.”

“We don’t get a lot of time to do that, do we?”

“No, not really.”

“Guess that just means we have to enjoy it while we have it.”

You sat up to look at him, wondering if he meant something more than what was implied when he said that. He met your gaze and gave you a questioning look. 

“What?”    You shook your head and sank further into the bubbles. You were reading way too much into everything. You needed to get a grip. 

“What’s wrong?” Minho repeated. “Talk to me.”

“I’m scared to,” you finally admitted. 

It wasn’t much, but you were finally being honest with Minho instead of skirting around his questions like you usually did. You could tell your answer hurt him but you were afraid that you’d hurt yourself even more if you told him everything. You had a feeling the conversation was going there anyway, though, and there was little you could do to stop it. 

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I don’t know... what we are?” You cringed as you said it. “And I don’t want to ruin things by asking, you know, because I like what we have going on and I don’t want it to go away but I also don’t want to get my hopes up by thinking we’re something that we’re not but sometimes you do things that make me think you want something more than... whatever it is we’re already doing but- mph!”

You were cut off with a kiss, like something out of a movie. It was brief, but enough to disrupt your train of thought. You stared at him incredulously, trying to read his expression. 

His face was even but his eyes were warm. You wished you knew what he was thinking. Moonlight and the flickering flames of torches in the distance were just enough to illuminate his features. The quirk of his cupid’s bow, the flutter of his long eyelashes... 

 “What was that for?” you inquired, even though you knew what it was for. 

“You were spiraling.”

You sighed, dropping your head into your hands. “I can’t help it.”

“I know,” Minho said softly. “For what it’s worth though, I feel the same way.”

You lifted your head to look at him again, your vision slightly blurred by the water dripping down your face from your wet hands. “What?”

He hesitated. “I feel... what you said. I feel the same way.”

“I don’t even know what I said,” you laughed. 

“Me either, but I got the general vibe of it and I’m in agreement.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I... I thought I was making it kind of obvious that I wanted something serious with you.”

“You never said anything outright, though!”

“Because I didn’t know what you wanted,” he explained. “You never said anything either.”

“Well, you’re the man!”

Minho raised an eyebrow. “Oh, we’re going there? The feminism just evaporates from your body the moment you’re faced with confrontation?”

“See, you get it.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m telling you now, okay? I want you. In all the ways you’re willing to let me have you.”

You swallowed hard, eyes burning. You didn’t want to start crying and you didn’t want Minho to see you crying so you kissed him again, with more urgency this time. You couldn’t think, hell, you couldn’t breathe, until he pulled away, leaving you wishing and hoping for more.

When your lips met for the third time, he pulled you under with him, just long enough to shock your senses. You gasped for air when you surfaced, pushing your wet hair out of your eyes.

“You’re not supposed to do that!” you scolded, sputtering as you shoved him. 

He stumbled backward onto the bench, falling seated again and pulling you on top of him. 

“You believe that bullshit?” he scoffed. 

“It’s not bullshit! It’s not good for you to put your head under the water in a hot tub!”

“I know people say that but why?”

“I... I don’t know why,” you admitted, “but I know you’re not supposed to.”

“See, you don’t even know!” You gave him a look. “Will you accept an ‘I’m sorry’ kiss?”

“That depends, are you actually sorry?”

He didn’t bother answering. Instead, he kissed you anyway, cradling the back of your head as he slipped his tongue past your lips. He tasted like s’mores and whiskey and chlorine, a combination so strange you couldn’t wrap your head around it. 

One of his arms dropped to your waist, wrapping around your body and pulling you closer until your chests were pressed together. You could feel him through his swim trunks, growing harder by the second. You were tempted to take him right there, but you were in public and having sex in a hot tub couldn’t be good either, right? That sounded like an infection waiting to happen.  

“Upstairs?” Minho asked breathlessly, lips only centimeters from yours. Not for the first time you wondered if he could read your mind. 

You nodded. “Yeah, upstairs.”

-

You dripped your way back to his room, shivering despite the thick towel wrapped around your shoulders. 

“Wanna hop in the shower?” Minho asked between kisses as he fumbled with the straps of your bikini. 

“Yeah, don’t want to get your bed all wet,” you replied. 

“That would happen whether or not we had just been in the pool,” he joked. 

“Hilarious.”

“Jesus, you’re freezing,” he hissed. “Let’s get these off of you, they’re so cold.”

“Is that the only reason you want them off?”

“I think we both know the answer to that.”

You knew Minho was expecting to have sex in the shower but you kind of wanted to fuck on the bed so you sucked his dick while he washed your hair and then took turns rinsing off before moving to his bed. You put your hair up in a towel to avoid the aforementioned wetness and wrapped yourself up in one of the hotel’s robes even though you knew it’d be coming right off. 

To your surprise, Minho left your robe on. He just undid the tie around your waist and let it fall open before shouldering himself between your legs. It was kind of like putting a towel down. He was killing two birds with one stone that way: protecting the sheets and keeping you warm. 

It didn’t take long for you to cum in his mouth. Minho knew your body like the back of his hand by now. It had taken him a fraction of the time it took your past lovers to learn what made you tick and he used all of that knowledge to his advantage. 

He kept going after you came the first time, eager to pull another from you, but you pulled him up by the hair to get his attention before he could get too into it. 

“Too much?” he asked. 

“Want you to fuck me,” you urged.

Thankfully, he was receptive to this and moved up so that he could position himself on top of you. He notched himself at your entrance and kissed you as he pushed himself inside, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue before pulling away and wiping his face on your shoulder. 

“Ew!” you cried and tried to push him away. 

Minho looked offended. “What do you mean, ‘ew’? It’s you.”

“That doesn’t mean I want me all over what I’m wearing!” 

“Since when?” he joked. “Seems like it’s always all over what you’re wearing when you’re around me.”

“Can we please talk about something else?” you begged, suddenly embarrassed and grossed out at the same time. 

Minho laughed and pecked you on the cheek. “What would you rather talk about? The weather?”

You tightened around him as punishment, making him swear and bury his face in your neck. “Fucking hell, you succubus.”

You smiled politely and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer. “Don’t people usually say that if she can talk at all, you’re doing it wrong?” 

He narrowed his eyes at you. “I was just taking it easy on you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, this was for your benefit,” he continued. “Didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

“How gracious of you.”

He clenched his jaw as he started fucking you faster, muttering sarcastically, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was boring you.”

Ironically, you couldn’t respond right away, too caught up in the feeling of how deep he was inside of you to get any words out. 

“I forgive you,” you choked out finally. 

Your hands fell to his biceps, desperate for something to hold on to. You dug your nails into his skin, making him hiss through his teeth. 

“Harder,” he urged. You squeezed harder and he gasped. “Fuck yes, keep doing that.”

“Like this?”

“Just like that, baby. That’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

#instead of you stray kids #instead of you skz #iou stray kids #iou skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee know x female reader #lee know x bi!reader #lee know series #stray kids series #stray kids x female reader

[quietwingsinthesky]

Dean is such a paradox for me because on the one hand, I have been actively triggered by him in the show, there are moments where, intentionally or not, the writers managed to create a portrayal of manipulation and abuse and control issues that it sets off actual alarms for me. And on the other hand, I would not have him any other way. There is something — not comforting, that’s too soft a word — about knowing where Dean’s actions stem from, having seen and learned all that we do about his childhood neglect and parentification and the trauma he goes through repeatedly in the show, and that he doesn’t come out clean. He comes out a goddamn mess who ends up hurting the people around him in reaction to his own pain!

There’s a reality there that’s. Almost nice, actually. Distressing to watch, but it is a fucking mess, it’s a good mess! He’s got zero healthy coping skills and a healthy relationship with say, his brother, is terrifying because it leaves him open to abandonment!

I’m not sure I’m wording this correctly. There is a way to be a good abuse victim. Take the pain, martyr yourself on it, and then, even if you have no support or idea how to, then you have to become a Good Person who never hurts anyone the way you have been learning to your entire life. Simply toss everything that shaped you out the door and emerge a saint with a tragic backstory. And Dean is not that. And that’s so fucking good. Everything that he has gone through continues to effect the way he treats the people around him, and he can’t fight the behaviors he might recognize as harmful because he also sees them as protecting him (or protecting Sam by keeping Sam with him.)

And sometimes, idk. It feels good to see a guy who didn’t heal the “right way.” Who mostly didn’t heal at all, just keeps the wound open because it’s easier that way.

#there’s a whole other bit to this about how like. it’s hard for fandom to hold the idea that someone can be both a victim and abusive #at the same time. that the ways someone has been hurt don’t always shape them into kindness and wide-eyed sympathy. occasionally it just #makes them hard to live with. and I think most obviously is the thing that a lot of what Dean does is an expression of love. of protection. #he’s very much his father’s son in that way. that’s why Sam. the guy he’s been Told to protect his whole life. is also the person he ends up #hurting the most. it’s tragedy. it’s realistic. it’s a good fucking mess. #and that’s why I don’t get interpretations of dean that are determined to shave off the ugly parts of his character. to me those are the #parts that make him a character worth revisiting. he’s so full of love. and he uses it to hurt people. he means to sometimes. a lot of the #time he doesn’t but hurts them anyway. he has been shaped by violence his whole life. and it’s just. I get why someone might take this #part of him away. to make him easier to love. because I get that he’s stressful to watch also like I get that. but he is. #he is compelling. in his anger and his controlling behavior and his strangling love. he is compelling in all the ways he has become this. #Dean’s degradation into these behaviors can be both a failure of a show that ran to long but also the believable trajectory of a man who #can’t heal. and I love him for that. I love him for emerging from pain as a angry sharp thing. I love that it brings the glimpses of him #being gentler and recognizing his actions as bad into stark relief. I love that this recognition often only lasts until he is hurt again and #then he backpedals into the safety of behaviors he knows will allow him to control a situation through force or manipulation. #it’s good fucking mess. you know? dean winchester everybody. #maybe I should have put all that in the main post. oh well. too late now. #spn #dean winchester #tw abuse

[matchingbatbites]

"What the fuck did you do?"

Eddie wasn't expecting hostility when he answered Jeff's phone call, his best friend's usual calm demeanor replaced with open annoyance. And yeah, okay, the annoyance itself wasn’t new, but Eddie doesn’t think he’s actually done anything recently to earn it.

"Well-"

"Actually, no. I'll tell you what you did. You retweeted photos of Steve Harrington - internationally beloved heartthrob actor Steve Harrington - along with the caption 'not to sound like a subby slut but GOD I would be his puppy baby boy in a heartbeat'. So I guess the better question is, what the fuck were you thinking, Eddie?"

Eddie's jaw clicks shut because- yeah, he had done that. Had seen those photos of Steve smoking circling the internet and spent god knows how long just staring at them, had curbed the desire to shove his hand down his pants by posting a single thirst tweet about it.

“I was thinking, Jeff, that I'm allowed to post whatever I want to my private fucking twitter, man. I mean it's a free country, isn't a guy allowed to make a horny tweet about a sexy man every now and then?”

“You are, when you actually post it to your private account and not our award winning band's main account.”

No. Oh no. There's no way Eddie actually-

He rips his phone away from his face to open twitter, and realizes two things simultaneously. One, Jeff is right, he had posted it to the band's account. Not on his private, locked, personal account, but on the account that's actually open and free for literally anyone on earth to look at.

The second thing he realizes is that their notifications are currently flooded with responses to Eddie's tweet, somehow racking up into the thousands in the few hours it's been since. 

Jesus Christ.

“Eddie?”

The metalhead jerks back into the moment and put Jeff on speaker so he can scroll through the horde of replies, says “Fuck, I fucked up. Are we gonna have to do damage control on this?”

In the mess is a reply from Gareth's own personal account: @ corrodededdie stop tweeting from the band account challenge 🙄🙄🙄

”Maybe. There hasn't been any type of response from Harrington or his people, but they might ask us to take it down if it blows up too much.“

Eddie hums, thinking they might be too little, too late about it blowing up too much, and flips over to his main account so he can reply to Gareth's little jab appropriately. He isn't surprised to see that he has a couple of new messages, probably from other people wondering just what the fuck Eddie was thinking, but when he goes to check them-

He's never been happier that he turned on messages from followers only, because then he would have missed this, missed Steve Harrington's little profile picture beaming up at him from the screen of his phone, along with a new message request.

”Jeff, I gotta go,” he says, not even realizing he's cut the other man off.

“Eddie, what-

”Harrington messaged me. I'll call you back.“

Eddie doesn't wait for a response as he hangs up on Jeff, and his hands definitely aren't shaking as he opens the message from Steve. And listen- Eddie is a fan of the guy, that much should be obvious. 

Steve had grown in popularity around the same time Corroded Coffin had; he’d gotten some part in a drama film that had skyrocketed him into stardom, and Eddie fell in love the moment he saw that gorgeous face on the silver screen for the first time. He's never had a chance to interact with the guy, has been in the same place a few times but always missed him, like ships passing in the night, but Eddie's been fine with pining from afar, just like every other person on the planet that's even remotely attracted to men.

Besides, even with how popular Corroded Coffin has gotten over the years - a couple of Grammy’s here, a dozen chart topping metal songs there - Eddie doesn’t expect Steve to just. Know who Eddie is.

With all of this in mind, Eddie is expecting some kind of semi-casual request to take the tweet down, that it's not a good look for his image-

Anything other than what Steve actually sent.

'If you're puppy baby boy, does that make me Master? Or Daddy?'

And Eddie- 

Eddie slides down, sinks into his couch cushion as all of the blood in his body suddenly shifts, rushing to fill his dick like it's a fucking race. The phone almost slips out of his hand and he fumbles it briefly before taking a deep breath. 

Is Steve serious? He wouldn't send that if he wasn't serious, right?

This could be it, could be Eddie's one chance to impress Steve, to get his foot in the door of Steve's interest. He bites his lip and types out a reply, something quick that he sends before he can change his mind.

‘I’m open to either, actually. Do you have a preference, sir?’

He doesn’t expect the typing indicator to come up immediately, and just knowing that Steve is somewhere right now, typing out a response to Eddie, is enough to have him nearly vibrating in his seat.

‘I’m partial to Daddy, myself.’

Fuck fuck fuck.

Eddie takes a breath, tries to think of a response that isn’t just ‘Please, Daddy, can I sit on your massive dick that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since that one indie film you did that just had all of your junk out in the open?’

Steve saves him by sending another message.

‘But maybe we could start with Steve, and possibly dinner? Though I’d be happy to see where things go after that.’

He- What-

Eddie must have stopped breathing, because the next time he takes a breath his lungs burn, his mid races because there’s no way Eddie’s long term celebrity crush just asked him on a date. He sits there long enough that the screen goes dark and he scrambles to turn it back on, sees the message still there, real and unchanged.

There’s no way he can say no to this, to Steve, and his hands shake as he types out a response.

‘Dinner would be great. Just name the time and place, Daddy.’

#like everyone else those new pics of joe keery left me kind of #feral. horny. slutty. #so i channeled my feeling a bit #i miiiight do more of this but no promises #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #rockstar eddie munson #actor steve harrington #joey writes #ficlet #fun fact: eddie's tweet was my actual real life message to my friends about those pics

[brokenlez]

Oh boy, so I should probably post here. Here's how my year has been.

So back in late February, my ex girlfriend started getting suspicious about my tumblr activities. She used to follow my main blog and she started noticing discrepancies. One time I accidentally posted an OP post to my main and had to delete it, but she ended up seeing it and I had to play it off. Stuff started building up and in late early March she confronted me about everything. She sat me down and told me I needed to tell her the truth or we were done.

So I did. I came clean about everything. I told her about the tumblr and the pictures and everything. I even told her about the guy I was texting. For those of you who wanted me to get my comeuppance, I did. She barely said anything to me. She just packed her things and left. We haven't spoken since aside from a few texts to come get stuff she left here.

So that was March. What have I been doing since? Well, to be honest, not much. I've been in somewhat of a depressive hole. I planned on marrying her one day. We had plans and we talked about our dream house and stuff. I fucked all of that up. My chronic pain also got a lot worse, so my pain level when things were bad has become my new normal and when things are bad now, they're worse. I'm looking into surgical solutions now, but I'm not hopeful. The past year has been really fucking rough. I don't want to get too graphic on a hot sexy kink blog but I got VERY low. Thankfully, I made it out of that. I'm trying to do better and pull myself together. My wakeup call was spending Christmas alone and realizing the day after I hadn't eaten in three days.

So what now:

Okay so I'm not actually entirely sure what I'm gonna do yet. I want to bring this blog back and talk to you guys because weirdly enough, this blog made me really happy! The problem is that it also fills me with this pit of dread, like "this is the thing that ruined your life". So I'm not really sure where to go with that. I'm writing this at 5am when I couldn't sleep, so take that how you will. Honestly, I think I want to try this again. This blog brought me so much joy (and a LOT of orgasms) and the feeling when I actually thought I was going to meet one of you drove me fucking crazy. I was cumming like 2-3 times a day because it fucked with my head so bad. I want that again! I loved it!

So I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm putting myself on a trial period. If things go well and my mental health doesn't tank again, we'll see about staying and maybe trying to reach out to one of you again, but until then, we're gonna take it slow. Feel free to send me messages and pictures and stuff! Sorry for the hiatus!

#orientation play #dykebreaking #lgetsd

[alicepao13]

Hudson and Rex S06E15

So, as I’m sure a lot of people have already figured out, we just watched the intended season finale. CityTV, you better hope I never get to cross that ocean. I mean, every season finale aside from the two where Peter Mitchell was in charge (coincidence?) were run of the mill episodes which could have fit anywhere in the season. Maybe it will be fitting for this season to start and end with viewers wondering what they watched. But I’m getting ahead of myself here and I might be wrong. Let’s focus on 15 which may very well be the best episode of the season for me, probably tied with S06E04.

The spoiled scene with Charlie and Sarah’s mentioned anniversary. Rex totally wants to stay with Jesse after their “celebration”. I’m trying to figure whether Jesse is pretending to be naive or is actually being naive about it. Or if the whole response is the writers being unable to outright say that Charlie and Sarah really spent their anniversary having sex all night.

Speaking of, two years, Charlie Hudson? What are you waiting for, an epiphany to hit you in the head? Oh, wait.

What do you mean, we didn’t save the day? There’s a dead woman? Huh? 

Nice bomb explosion by the way.

“My bosses are gonna hate this but tell me more”. lol Jesse

How did we end up as security detail for the woman who might become prime minister?

Look, I like when there’s a case where they’re toying with supernatural elements. That’s why I loved Castle so much. And Jesse is always eager to believe. Charlie on the other hand looks like he’s got tons to say on the subject. Rex too. Apparently he doesn’t believe in time travel either.

Any so called time traveler should come back to the present with the numbers for the lottery. That would be ample proof for me :P

Can I say how much I like the camera work on this one? Good directing by John Vatcher.

Rex is getting so many pats in this episode. Deserved.

This campaign manager is on par with the Veep campaign managers. And by that I mean he’s ruthless and self-centered and I want to punch him.

That food now possibly has dog hair in it.

I come from a country where it’s pretty normal to put a musical montage right in the middle of an episode (even a dance number), so I’m not going to say anything about the needless song.

Thunk! There goes Charlie. Again. I’ll spare y’all the concussion speech. Besides, time moves in mysterious ways in this show, maybe it’s already been six months since episode 11.

Seriously, why do you tell Rex to chase a lead if you can’t survive being ten feet away from him?

I can’t remember the last time any of my shows put a bomb vest on one of the main characters. The latest that I remember was FBI but it was on a minor character. That had been a great episode too.

I haven’t yet decided whether that bomb vest looks too amateurish. To be fair, given who the culprit was, it shouldn’t look professional.

Sarah finding Charlie as he has a bomb vest on is like, the best thing that has happened lately on this show. Her look. His look as he realizes that he’s got his entire family now in this (and the mantra of no, no, no that must be playing in his head, I’m filling the blanks, don’t mind me). The slight zooming in of the camera in both of their shots, denoting the direness of the situation.

I was almost waiting for Charlie to say “this isn’t as enjoyable as it was last night” as Sarah was touching him while she’s checking the bomb vest. It writes itself, come on.

In my last review post I wrote that I was hoping the earphones would serve for Charlie to call Sarah and tell her goodbye or something like that. This certainly exceeded my expectations.

We’re a bit late for love confessions under duress but when Charlie was asked about whether Sarah was his wife and he replied “Not yet”, that was a nice moment. At least we know where his head is at.

Their silent communication. They’re so in sync.

Elsewhere, Joe and Jesse are quietly trying to figure out a way to save innocent people and somehow not get their friend blown up.

Superintendent Joe Donovan making airplane noises. I laughed so much.

They are holding hands as they’re walking to their doom! Oh, by the way, interesting music choice. I wonder if it’s score created for the show or non-original music. I’ve certainly not heard it before on the show.

Goodbye kiss! I love it here. And look at the shot of Charlie and Rex leaving as Sarah is staying behind.

Me: no way it’s the convict. Five minutes later: it’s the fucking convict!!! Ten minutes later: it’s not the convict???

Ha, Charlie using the mute button which is pretty convenient but almost no one uses on calls. 

Okay, they fooled me with the bomber. But the takedown went pretty much as I expected. Nice communication with Rex through hand signals, again. Although the detonator flying off the lady’s hand… anything could have happened.

Rex’s influence to the system will be more K9s lol. They may also have ensured unlimited funding for the SJPD.

Can the time traveling guy tell us if Charlie is going to propose anytime soon? Or is the “not yet” considered a non-proposal proposal?

This is the first time I’m hearing about the so called Alice in wonderland syndrome.

“Everybody needs a Rex”. Ah, yes. Our catchphrase.

Charlie, put the phone down. When is that man clocking out? Who’s going to make sure Rex is getting adequate rest? I need to talk to his superior. Joe!

Well, I kept saying that I wanted Charlie and Sarah to be in danger again together since they hadn’t after they had become a couple, and I got my wish, thank you, show. We could have had an aftermath scene with them but I’m not going to complain about it in an otherwise good episode.

Promo: I’m beyond frustrated that they keep shuffling the episodes and they wouldn’t even give it a rest when they got the season finale or the 100th episode on their hands. Today’s (yesterday’s) episode would have been a better 100th episode than The Rookie’s for sure (which is embarrassing for The Rookie). But instead we get to watch it as episode 99 and have a run of the mill case for the 100th, which, unless it ends up in a huge celebration scene, is going to fall flat. We basically end off exactly as we started, expect I now know this is 100% CityTV’s fault.

Speaking of, is CityTV even going to acknowledge that it’s the 100th episode? Is anyone? I’m obviously not expecting the magnitude of promotion ABC gave The Rookie or 911 this season (and that was a lot) but something that shows they’re not completely neglecting Hudson and Rex. It doesn’t seem like we’re getting renewal news anytime soon, so I’d settle for them celebrating the episodes they already filmed. There are quite a few production companies involved too, this does not only fall on CityTV. If Shaftesbury wants to celebrate this milestone, I won’t say no.

#hudson and rex

[piived]

Justice is Swift (Vengeance is Sweet) — a DPxDC Dead on Main Fic

chapter three has arrived!

master post || <- ch.2 || ch.3 shitposts

CHAPTER THREE — ANGEL IN DISGUISE

Summary —

Danny has a (literal) run-in with someone at a coffee shop, an interesting conversation with some friends, a near-miss with another mugger, and has some more home invaders. Jason and Tim start putting some more pieces together.

chapter word count — 7,646

full chapter under the cut, but for the best experience read on ao3 and consider leaving kudos/comments as they fuel me :)

𓆩⟡𓆪

Danny let himself splurge on decent coffee once a week, a little treat to help with the general chaos of juggling a full load of intense college classes. He had discovered a lovely little coffee shop nearby campus with a caring staff who fulfilled Danny’s truly exorbitant espresso wishes without even batting an eye.

He loved Gotham, truly.

What he did not love, was getting said heavenly coffee splashed over his chest and spilled on the floor, a truly devastating (and expensive) brown puddle that reflected his blank face as he stared down into it with a resigned sigh.

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry!” A deep voice broke him out of his mourning and he glanced up at the douche that had bumped into him and caused the tragedy seeping below his sneakers as they stood there. Well, the douche at least had the decency to be the hottest guy Danny had ever seen. He would take the spilled holy nectar any day to have the chance to see the face staring at him in panicked apology. (Danny was maybe a tad bit sleep deprived and loopy at the moment. Fruit loop loopy. Ha.)

“Uh, you okay?” Danny scrubbed a hand down his face to clear his head and bit down a hysterical bark of laughter and instead shot a rueful smile at the literal Angel looking at him with what was now concern, gorgeous blue eyes wide and large hand hovering as if to steady Danny but not sure if the touch would be welcomed. (It most certainly would be.)

“Yeah, you’re good, man,” Danny tried for nonchalance despite kind of wanting to cry in the corner at the loss of his much needed caffeine. He did not have time to go back to his apartment to make a shitty cup of the instant coffee he made do with every other day of the week. “Don’t worry about it.”

The guy looked worried regardless. An employee came over with a mop and paper towels which the guy took with a grateful smile that brought a flush to the barista’s cheeks. Danny felt a sense of kinship towards her, because at least he wasn’t the only one clearly affected by the Angel’s charm.

Danny stepped away from the puddle to let the clearly underpaid employee get the spill mopped up, glad that his shoes only left a slight trail of the liquid, and made grabby motions for the paper towels. Angel Boy passed him the stack and Danny started patting his shirt down. Of course he chose to wear a mostly white one today too, no jacket in sight because Danny was an idiot who didn’t want to carry it around when he inevitably got too warm. Having an ice core that made him near immune to the cold had it’s downsides after all.

“Let me buy you another?” Danny stared at Angel Boy who was now giving him a truly devastatingly pretty smile that made Danny’s gut twist a bit. (He should really have Frostbite run some tests with the amount of swirling his gut had been doing lately. Maybe something was wrong with him.)

“Uh, you don’t have to,” Danny said after a moment and Angel Boy shook his head.

“No, I insist,” Angel said and Danny had a pang of déjà vu but waved it off. “It’s the least I can do after giving yours away to the floor,” Angel glanced at Danny’s shirt and winced, “And for ruining your shirt. Just, wait here?”

Danny could only nod as Angel walked to the counter and turned his charming smile to the cashier who nodded and waved off his card, much to Danny’s chagrin. He was positive he wouldn’t manage to get a free coffee. He had the charm of a particularly slow slug at the moment and his eye bags were probably enough to scare off even Skulker. He watched in swooning amusement as Angel snuck in a few bills (probably much more than the drink itself cost, from the look of it) to the tip jar when the barista’s back was turned and then frowned in confusion as the guy then ran out the door, bell left swinging behind him.

Well, that was that, then. He sighed in disappointment and gave up on dabbing at his shirt after another moment and made sure his shoes were wiped before throwing the soiled napkins in the garbage. He turned around to see if he would actually have a drink waiting at the counter or if it had all been some sort of joke, and startled when he came face to face with Angel Boy a foot away, holding out a large fresh cup of what Danny hoped to be at least as strong as his original order and what looked like a black shirt draped over his arm. Was this guy a speedster or something? How the fuck did he get back so fast? Danny ignored his confusion and took the offered cup gratefully, eyes widening after a careful sip.

Angel laughed, “Like it?”

Danny nodded, taking another sip, “What the hell is in this?”

Angel shrugged, “Same thing my overworked and chronically sleep deprived brother usually gets to try and ‘fight the demons’ or something. You struck me as the type to appreciate it. I had her put the recipe on the side for you.”

Sure enough, Danny found the order written on the side, and at the bottom was a string of numbers. Danny nearly rolled his eyes. Figured.

“I think she left you a little something,” Danny turned the cup and tapped the numbers for Angel to see. The guy just flushed slightly and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Uh, actually that’s for you.”

Danny blinked and then cocked his head to look around Angel’s shoulder to get a look at the girl. She was cute, sure, but after seeing Angel, Danny wasn’t sure he’d be able to find anyone else attractive ever again. (He was definitely being melodramatic. Val would be proud. Sam would smack him upside the head. Tucker would be laughing his ass off. He’s never telling them anything about this.)

He was brought back by a breathy laugh and a more red-faced Angel Boy. “Mine, not hers.”

And, oh.

Oh.

Danny short-circuited.

“My name’s Jason,” Angel Boy, Jason, smiled and stuck his hand out. Danny smiled back and grabbed it, reveling in how warm and nice it felt in his own.

“Danny,” he managed to say without even a crack or stutter. (Tucker would be so fucking proud of him. He’s so telling them about this.)

Angel, no, Jason, grinned a bit wider and squeezed his hand once more before letting go and Danny immediately missed the warmth, cradling his coffee to try and bring it back (it wasn’t the same).

“Well, I’m sorry again, Danny. If you ever want a do-over I’d love to not douse you in coffee next time.”

Danny laughed, “Yeah, I definitely wouldn’t mind that.”

They grinned at each other before Jason startled out of it with a soft, “Oh!” He held out what was definitely a black shirt and Danny stared. “I thought you might like a shirt that I didn’t spill coffee on. I keep an extra in my bike bag just in case. It’s clean, I promise.”

Danny glanced outside and sure enough there was a gleaming black motorcycle parked in front of the doors. Of course the guy rode a motorcycle. Danny was going to fucking swoon.

He did not swoon, and instead composed himself enough to take the offered shirt with a grateful smile. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Jason smiled, “No problem, least I could do.”

Danny begged to differ but kept the sentiment to himself. Jason was clearly a gentleman.

His phone beeped in warning and he swore, “I’m gonna be late for class. Thank you for the coffee and the shirt, I really appreciate it.”

“Like I said, least I could do,” Jason waved him off, walking with him towards the door where Danny turned to duck into the bathroom and change. Just before he turned Jason stopped him with a warm hand on his wrist and sparkling eyes.

“Text me?”

Danny grinned and promised, “Yeah, I will.”

Jason left with a gentle squeeze and Danny had to force his feet to start working again and not stare as Jason straddled his bike.

Holy shit.

As he ran to class he shot off a simple ‘Hey, it’s Danny’ with a cheeky coffee cup emoji to the number on the cup and had to force down a giddy, disbelieving laugh.

His life rocked.

—

He managed to keep his good spirits up the rest of the week and was still riding the high when he met Bernard and Tim for their now weekly café hangout.

“You’re in a good mood,” Bernard commented as Danny took the seat across from the couple. He shrugged but kept smiling, taking the offered coffee cup with a quick thanks.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” the week had been good after his run in with Jason. He managed to catch up on the sleep he lost from pulling a couple all-nighters for homework and the chaos of coordinating with Jazz to get Ellie’s paperwork and trying to find the best school for her to enroll at. Classes were going smooth, Ellie was settling in, he hadn’t heard anything from Red Robin or Red Hood, and, oh yeah, he and Jason had been texting a lot. A lot, a lot. And they had plans to meet up Saturday morning for another try at a coffee shop. Danny had to remind himself that it wasn’t technically a date, but it was hard when every time his phone buzzed his heart did a flip.

He was being completely normal about this.

“This have anything to do with Angel Boy?” Danny blushed and regretted ever telling Bernard anything. He groaned into his hands.

“Can you just forget that entire conversation?”

Bernard shook his head, “Nope! It was hilarious and I now must hold it over your head forever more. Friend duties and all that.”

Tim looked between the two in amusement and Danny glared at Bernard in warning. “Don’t you dare,” he hissed but Bernard, the traitor, did indeed dare.

Danny sighed and pillowed his head in his folded arms as Bernard retold the story to Tim, but thankfully left out some of Danny’s more embarrassing tangents about the guy’s killer thighs and various muscle toning. Tim looked very amused at the tale and Danny sighed pitifully.

“Tim, your boyfriend is fucking rude. I told him that in three-day sleep-deprived confidence and therefore cannot be held responsible for my gushing.”

Tim nodded in sage agreement and Bernard scoffed at both of them. “That is so not a thing.”

Tim shook his head, “Is too a thing.”

Danny held out a hand and Tim high-fived it, “See! Thank fuck one of you is sane!”

“Whatever, maybe you guys should get more sleep,” Benny, rolled his eyes, “Have you set up a date yet?”

Danny couldn’t stop the smile, “Yeah, we’re going for coffee on Saturday. Hopefully sans the embarrassing spillage and gawking.”

Bernard laughed and Tim smiled and then said, “You want me to run a background check on the guy? Make sure he’s not some crazy weirdo?”

Danny cocked his head, “You can do that?” He knew Tucker had his ways of getting information on people but he wasn’t used to other people having the same type of paranoia and resources.

Tim shrugged, “Perks of being semi-famous and very wealthy. Bruce makes us run background checks on pretty much anyone we speak to more than once.”

Danny narrowed his eyes, “Have you run one on me?”

Tim fidgeted a little and Bernard laughed, throwing his arm over Tim’s shoulder easily. “Of course he did. We had to make sure you weren’t an aforementioned crazy weirdo.”

Danny raised his eyebrows in amusement, “Find anything interesting?” He was sure that the name change would at least pop up but he didn’t truly know if anything about his parents or the GIW would show, depending on how deep the Wayne’s resources could dig. He knew he was on the GIW’s agency watch list in high school but since they were disbanded he had no idea what records would still be active or available. Then again, Red Robin clearly hadn’t seen anything of the sort if his surprise at the topic was any indication, and surely the Bat Posse had more intense resources than nearly anyone with Batman’s ‘World Greatest Detective’ title and association with the Justice League.

Tim shrugged, “A bit, but Berny always tells me it’s rude to pry.”

“That’s because it is, Timmy,” Benny said cheekily and patted his arm, making Tim sigh. “However, now that we’re friends and you’ve been confirmed to, in fact, not be a crazy weirdo, that rule no longer applies to you. Were your parents really ghost hunters?”

Danny huffed a laugh at Bernard’s bluntness and curiosity. He could see that Tim was also curious and he actually found himself comfortable speaking about his life in Amity with them. Well, some of his life in Amity. The basics. “Yeah, pretty much.”

Bernard let out a, “Huh,” and then, “did they ever find anything?”

Danny smirked. “Maybe,” he said mysteriously.

Bernard guffawed, “You can’t just leave it at that!”

Danny laughed, “Okay, okay! Let’s just say that everyone who lives in Amity are definite believers of the supernatural and for good reason.”

Tim leaned forward in curiosity, “What do you mean by that?”

Danny shrugged, “We’ve all had an encounter or two,” or hundreds, “with a ghost or two,” or an entire realm full. “It’s almost impossible not to in that town. I swear it should be considered the most haunted place in America with how often sightings happen.”

“What type of ghosts?” Tim asked and Danny found that particular question a bit odd and the entire situation somewhat familiar for some reason but brushed it off and shrugged.

“All types, really. There was a lunch lady at the high school, Casper High, by the way, I swear they were just asking for it, and a little boy that’s like, obsessed with pirates, and a puppy named Cujo that runs around and sleeps in peoples gardens, but then there’s the real town legend of course.” Maybe he was having a little too much fun with this.

“What’s the legend?” Bernard asked emphatically.

Danny smirked with a wicked gleam, “Phantom.”

—

He left the Physics lecture nearly dead on his feet, having spent the entire time juggling taking notes and fending off Bernard’s incessant questions about Amity and all things ghosts. The conversation had really taken off with Tim and Benny both taking turns asking rapid fire questions that Danny had to be careful how he answered and by the end they were nearly late to their class and Bernard still hadn’t had enough of it.

It amused Danny, a bit, having people so curious about Amity and the ghosts when everyone in Amity were so desensitized to it all that hardly anyone even spoke about the ghosts anymore, accepting their presence as if they were ordinary run of the mill citizens, especially after their fights stopped creating so much damage and people started being able to catch onto what each ghost wanted to accomplish. At worst they were slight annoyances (Boxy rearranging the shelves at the container store to better suit his whims, Ember crashing some festivals and taking over the opening acts stage time, and Cujo digging up some flower beds and scaring the neighborhood cats) and the Amity Parkers were content to leave them be and let Phantom deal with them when they got too rambunctious. (Besides his parents, of course, and the occasional tourist ghost hunter who often caused more damage than the ghosts that they claimed were so dangerous).

He managed to abate his friends curiosity by promising an eventual visit to Amity (despite his reservations of visiting his home town again and all the memories it held) and further stories another time. Danny was almost certain Tim had been taking notes on everything with the way he had his phone under the table and kept glancing down, typing away as they talked. Danny wondered if the guy had a secret interest in the paranormal and if he liked the exaggerated TV shows with the spirit boxes and creepy basements they locked themselves in for no good reason, undoubtedly bothering whatever shades or spirits were lingering around.

He startled out of his thoughts by a flash of blue on a rooftop across the street. Well, at least Danny wouldn’t have to be stopping any muggings tonight, thank the Ancients. He hadn’t had a run-in with any of the other vigilantes and he wanted to keep it that way as long as possible. He hoped that Red and Hood were keeping things on the down low and would be the only ones ambushing him anytime soon.

Of course, nothing ever went the way Danny wanted it to.

He saw the hooded figure as he entered the alley and had half a mind to back out and take the long way, but something pressed to his lower back ensured that that wasn’t an option. “Keep walking, pretty boy,” the guttural voice demanded and Danny complied easily, biding his time until he could escape.

The hooded figure started walking towards them, meeting them halfway. “Empty your pockets,” Hoodie Guy said, flashing a gun at Danny, causing him to sigh internally. But before he could get do anything, a flash of Blue landed behind Hoodie and took him out at the knees, gun sliding far across the alley. Danny took his opening and twirled away from the guy behind him as he staggered back a step with a shocked curse. He used his momentum to land a solid kick to his side, knocking him against the wall and followed up with a punch to the temple, knocking him out.

He turned to face Nightwing who was staring in shock at Danny and the thug he’d taken down.

“Nice kick,” he said and Danny had to laugh, getting a flashback to Red Hood complimenting his punch.

“Thanks,” Danny said, “And thanks for the help,” he gestured to the two crumpled forms on the ground and Nightwing shrugged.

“Kinda what I’m around for,” he said and then gestured to the thug behind Danny, “but I think you would’ve been just fine without me.”

Danny shrugged, “Maybe, but guns are a bit much for my limited self defense skills.”

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Nightwing nodded, crouching to swipe the gun and unload it with practiced ease before turning to the thugs with zip-tie cuffs and speaking a quick, “Hey, O, send the GPD to my pin, would ya? Two armed thugs, zip-tied and out for now. Thanks,” into his comms before turning back to Danny with a small grin, “Do you live close by?”

“Just another few minutes past the next dark alleyway,” Danny gestured in the direction.

Nightwing laughed, “Any chance you take the long way instead?”

Danny smirked, “Nope.”

“Want company?”

Danny nodded with a small shrug and started walking, “Well, you’re definitely more polite about it than Red Hood was.”

Nightwing made a noise of surprise, matching his stride, “Oh, you’ve met Hood?”

Danny laughed, “Oh yeah, we’ve met. Red Robin too, though considering he actually broke into my apartment to get information I’d say you have him beat too.”

Nightwing sputtered, “What the hell? Why?”

Danny shrugged, “Thought I was someone else apparently, but didn’t like being told he was wrong, funnily enough.”

Nightwing sighed, “I’d apologize for him but I think we both know that he isn’t sorry about it.”

Danny shrugged, “Yeah, probably not. It’s chill though, we have an agreement that next time he’ll at least knock.”

“Well if he doesn’t, let me know and I’ll kick his butt a bit for you, ‘kay?”

Danny cackled. He liked Nightwing a lot more than the partners of his he’d met. Well, besides Red Hood, maybe. He had invited him to dinner after all, and the guy had left him food. He won out for sure. But Nightwing was definitely an easier first impression.

“So, you go to Gotham U?” Nightwing asked, eyeing his backpack.

“Yeah, I’m a freshman. Got a full ride for Aerospace Engineering,” Danny offered, because why the hell not? At this rate the Bat Posse would have his entire life story complete with baby pictures by the end of the semester.

Nightwing whistled, “Wow, I know their scholarship programs are super competitive so you must have really impressed them.”

Danny had gone for their Inventor’s Scholarship and entered a modified version of one of his parents old, non-patented, ray guns, but specifically designed by Danny to shoot non-lethal energy bursts powered completely by ectoplasm (or as his official spec sheet had listed: an ‘alternate form of clean energy’). He was incredibly proud of it and had plans to modify a lot of his parents’ other inventions they had given up on. He had all of the blueprints and a few boxes in his closet held the devices that he stole from their lab throughout the years.

They chatted idly for the few minutes that it took to reach his building and he waved goodbye with another thanks and a grin, watching the vigilante swing away on his grapple. So much for not interacting with any other vigilantes. Though, at least it seemed that Red and Hood had kept their little investigation to themselves. Nightwing truly didn’t seem to recognize him and Danny was glad for the semblance of privacy, even though he had a sneaking suspicion it wouldn’t last forever, depending on what the two were able to scrounge up. Furthermore, Nightwing reminded Danny a bit of Jazz — something about the guy just screamed ‘older sibling’ energy and Danny couldn’t help but feel more at ease with him around (not to mention the few puns that they had shot back and forth — the Bats were quickly growing on him, which was mildly concerning considering, well, everything about his own past vigilante situation).

He made the trek up the stairs and decided to use his front door rather than phasing through. He was still a bit paranoid that Red Robin may have put up extra surveillance around his apartment to try and catch him off guard. He and Ellie had thoroughly checked the apartment last time they had left and fortunately found nothing (if they had, he would have tracked the vigilante down and shoved whatever camera or microphone down his throat).

He froze as he entered his apartment, letting the scene he was looking at process.

“Close the door, don’t let them out!” Ellie snapped and Danny did as he was told, closing and locking the door as a tiny black fur ball toddled up to him curiously, winding itself around his feet.

“Ellie,” he said carefully, “what did you do?”

Ellie had another fur ball, this one pure white, cradled in her arms, and she looked up at him with her too-wide, ‘I’m so innocent’ eyes. He sighed, knowing already that he would be caving.

She grinned, as if knowing what his sigh meant. “They were abandoned! I found them in a taped up box in an alleyway and couldn’t just leave them!”

Danny sighed again, toeing off his shoes carefully as to not kick the little creature and then scooped it up, staring at it face to face. It was stupidly adorable and gave him a little ‘mew’ in hello. He melted.

“Okay, fair enough. But you could have taken them to a shelter or vet?”

“I don’t trust shelters! They’re already so full and they might kill them or some older ones to make room!” Ellie said in distress and Danny quickly sat next to her and pressed his shoulder to her own.

“Okay, okay! I get it and agree,” he assured her and looked down at the kittens in their arms. “Have you named them yet?”

She shook her head, “Not yet, I wanted to wait for you. Buuut,” she held up the white kitten. “I was thinking Casper for this one?”

Danny groaned, “Who told you about Casper the Ghost?”

Ellie rolled her eyes, “Casper is a classic, of course I know him.”

“Great, and you know that my high school was literally Casper High? You want to torture me with the memory of high school every time I look at the thing?”

“Well, ghosts are supposed to be haunting, right?”

He shoved Ellie over and laughed as she held the kitten, Casper, up so it wouldn’t be crushed. “Hey! You could have hurt Casper!”

Danny shook his head, “Nah, you got him.”

She put Casper down and let him wander a bit, finding his way to Danny’s lap. Danny put down his own kitten so they could play. “Now you gotta name the black one.”

Danny looked at Ellie and sighed when he realized she was serious. He looked down and scratched the little things head. “Batman,” he deadpanned and earned a shove back. He cackled.

“No way! That would be so embarrassing if your vigilante friends came back!”

“Yeah, yeah,” not even bothering to argue about the ‘friend’ title, he kept looking at the kitten. “Reaper,” he settled on. Ellie thought it over.

“Casper and Reaper. I like it.”

Danny smiled at her and then frowned, sighing.

“I guess this means we need to go on a supply run then, huh?”

She just shot him a toothy grin in response.

—

Danny let out a steadying breath as his phone rang for their impromptu group call that Danny had asked the gang, including Jazz, to have earlier than their usual weekly recap sessions. Ellie rolled her eyes and pressed the answer button for him, crowding in close to him so her face could be seen along with his own. They had agreed that it was time to let everyone in on the little vigilante snooping problem they were having now that the heroes had made it clear they weren’t going to be leaving the issue alone, and Danny was not looking forward to it.

“Alright, Danny, what shitshow did you get yourself into this time?” Sam’s despondent voice asked and Danny gasped in offense.

“Hey, what makes you think I got myself into trouble? Can’t a guy just want to talk with his best friends?”

Four unimpressed glares stared back at him and he cringed a bit as Ellie cackled.

“Yeah, dude, what’s going on?” Tucker asked, worry clear in his voice and Danny felt a bit bad for not giving them any details past the need for a call.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, so you know how Gotham has it’s hoard of vigilantes?”

Valerie narrowed her eyes, “The group of bat furries? Yeah, D, we helped with the research before you moved there, we know all about them.”

Danny huffed a laugh, “Yeah, well,” he drew out the word and Ellie elbowed him with an eye roll.

“Danny got himself a couple of vigilante stalkers who are now very interested in Amity and all things ghosts.”

Danny sighed and glared at Ellie who just shrugged, “What? It’s true and you were taking forever to say it.”

“Yeah, but I was trying to find a way that wouldn’t do that,” he gestured to the four sets of incredulous eyes blinking back at them. Ellie shrugged again.

“What the fuck, Danny?” Sam exclaimed at the same time as Jazz groaned his name, while Val buried her face in her hands and Tucker started tapping furiously on his PDA.

“Okay, so apparently cutting through some sketchy alleyways and stopping a few muggings while invisible is a pretty good way to get on the city’s protector’s radar, who’d have thunk?”

Sam and Jazz’s eyes widened a bit more, “Danny, please do not tell us that you’ve been using Phantom to stop petty crime in a city that we specifically all agreed that you’d not moonlight in because of the risk of the fucking Batman finding you out.”

Jazz swearing was never a good sign. Danny held his hands up. “Hey! I’m not that dumb!”

Ellie tilted her head with a unconvinced, “Eh,” and Danny pushed her away with a bit of his ghostly strength as she just cackled and didn’t budge much. Stupid ghost clone sisters.

“Seriously, I’m not moonlighting as Phantom, I promise!” Danny turned his attention back to the phone.

“Yeah,” Ellie chimed in, “he’s just gaslighting Red Robin and Red Hood into thinking that he’s being haunted by Phantom.”

Danny groaned again, “Seriously, El, you are not helping.”

“Oh, I think she’s being very enlightening,” Val disagreed, finally lifting her head from her hands to glare at Danny who shrunk back a bit against the force of it. “Now, elaborate.”

“Okay, so it started with Red Hood who kinda saw me let a thug’s fist phase through me when I was getting lightly mugged and he assumed I was a meta, which, honestly was rude and discriminatory if I’m being honest, and I called him out on it too but then he showed up in my apartment a few days later with Red Robin who called me by my old name and had a bunch of creepy stalker-photos of me and the crime scenes and also accused me of being involved with them, so I may have bullshitted and dropped some hints about Amity and ghosts, so,” he sucked in a gulping breath at the end and shrugged, feigning nonchalance “that’s that.”

The silence was damning as they all stared at him and let the rambling words sink in. Tucker was the first to break it.

“So, let me get this straight. You decided it was a good idea to turn yourself invisible to stop some crime, despite the city being under heavy surveillance by the Bats, which I definitely remember warning you about, by the way,” Danny flinched a bit at the reminder, but Tucker continued on, “and then got yourself caught and on the radar of at least two of the city’s vigilantes who confronted you about it and clearly did a background check if they were able to find your parents’ last name and you decided that it was a good idea to tell them to look deeper into Amity and your parents so they would hopefully assume that not only ghosts are in fact real, something we’re apparently assuming they did not know before, but that you brought one with you into Batman’s city and it’s running around stopping criminals? Did I get everything?”

“Oh, and he invited Red Hood to have dinner with him!” Ellie grinned and Danny dropped his head to the desk, whining pitifully at the resounding chaos that her words brought. The portal should have killed him all the way when it had the chance. His life would have been so much simpler.

When the brutal ribbing finally died down, Danny was able to, unsuccessfully, explain and got even more teasing and accusations of having some serious lapses in judgment thrown at him. Eventually, they got back to the serious topics and Danny was more flustered and exhausted than he’d ever remembered being since his disastrous crush on Paulina in freshman year.

“Okay, but seriously, how do we want to handle this situation?” Jazz asked and they all sobered up. “I mean, we’re facing a serious risk of exposure here. Not only with just the existence of ghosts, but dredging up every incident in Amity Park and possibly the existence of the Realms as well. If the Justice League gets involved, this could get real bad real quick, Danny.”

Danny sighed, “I know. I need to talk with the Council and see exactly how they want to handle this as well, but,” he hesitated, not sure why he was apprehensive about sharing the information but he knew they all had their grievances with the League and some unflattering opinions born by their silence and lack of response over the years. “But I have a feeling that the League may not even know anything about Amity or ghosts,” he heard some scoffing and twisted his mouth a bit, “I know. I know what we’ve thought over the years but I mean, Red Robin looked into Amity and didn’t find anything about distress calls or our ghost problems? That doesn’t sit right with me. If they knew about us and were purposefully not helping, then surely they would at least recognize the name, right? They’d have information and files, but both Hood and Red seemed so genuinely confused and shocked by the little information I gave and then I asked about if the League had call logs and Hood said they’d look into them. At the very least, I don’t think the Bats have any clue about any of it.”

Tucker didn’t look very convinced, but his voice was careful when he said, “Or it means that they’re operating with more secrecy and have the files protected. I mean, I know Batman is a full member of the League, but none of the other Gotham vigilantes are, right?” Danny wracked his brain to try and remember if that was true, while the rest of them nodded in agreement.

“Even if your vigilantes don’t know, that doesn’t mean that Batman and the rest of the League aren’t still involved and possibly against us,” Val said soft but firm and Danny chewed at his lip. He knew they were right, but he really, really wanted to believe that the heroes were better than that. That if they truly knew what was going on, they would try to help, as they had with the meta rights protection Acts. That they would at least want to hear the ghosts out and not blindly go off of the GIW and Drs. Fenton’s biased words alone.

“Listen,” Jazz’s voice was soft as well and her eyes were full of concern through the screen, “like you said, your vigilantes seem to be keeping this information to themselves for now, right?” Danny nodded, slightly amused that they kept referring to Red and Hood as his vigilantes, and she continued, “So let’s see what they come up with. Let’s see if they’re willing to listen and help, or if they have any information on what the League may or may not know before we panic. Danny, talk with the council and see what they have to say about it all and we’ll go from there.”

He appreciated her trying to stay positive and not going into doomsday prep. He knew the worst case scenario would result in him having to leave Gotham. He knew that would crush him. He really, really hoped that his vigilantes would try to help, that they would hear him out. If not, then Danny didn’t know if he could handle giving up his and Ellie’s chance at a (relatively) normal life with (relatively) normal friends.

The thought settled like a stone in his stomach, heavy and painful. He hoped for the better outcome, for both his own sake and the sake of his little sister’s.

𓆩⟡𓆪

Jason’s run in with Danny at the coffee shop was certainly a happy surprise. Well, it was an embarrassing and awkward shitshow but after Jason got over the initial mortification of literally dousing the poor guy in his own coffee he could admit that the interaction ended about as good as it could have. He had successfully gotten Danny’s number and Tim’s awful concoction of almost pure espresso shots seemed to be a hit, which didn’t surprise Jason at all with how much Danny looked like a particularly handsome zombie, his eye bags nearly as dark as B’s stupid black eye paint he insisted on smearing beneath the cowl to further the ‘mystery’ or whatever the old man insisted on (Jason just thought it made him look like one of the soggy emo teenagers that sulked around the music shops, but Bruce never seemed to care much about Jason’s opinions so if the old man wanted to look like a poor imitation of a raccoon, then so be it).

If Jason didn’t have a skewed perspective on what healthy sleeping habits were he might have been more worried for Danny, but he knew that the sleep deprivation would undoubtedly be chalked up to college stress and projects and his eyes had been more lively after a few sips of the coffee so he figured Danny would be fine. Plus, the knowledge that he could now check up on the guy via text to make sure he wasn’t actually at risk of passing out while walking helped. A lot.

The interaction was nearly enough to distract Jason from what he had even been at that coffee shop for in the first place. Nearly.

He had agreed to meet with Tim to discuss what the detective had been able to pull from the call log search, and the results were more harrowing than either of them anticipated. Amity Park had made hundreds of distress calls, starting from six years ago all of varying intensities and importance and spanning nearly two years until they abruptly stopped. All of them had been marked ‘RESOLVED’ nearly as fast as they had come in, without a corresponding incident report or an ID stamp to show who had responded to the messages, which shouldn’t have even been possible with how the system was set up to prevent exactly that from happening. It was very clear that whoever had done it went through drastic measures to make sure no one else knew about it or checked into Amity Park.

Worst and most worrying of all were the last distress messages sent, spanning four days:

AMITY HAS BEEN TAKEN. PLEASE HELP.

48 HOURS STRANDED IN THE ZONE. NO END IN SIGHT. WE NEED HELP.

PARIAH IS ATTACKING. AMITY WILL BE LOST. HELP. US.

PLEASE. ANYONE.

Tim hadn’t been able to find any record of what might have possibly happened to Amity Park to warrant that message (or who or what ‘Pariah’ might be), but it was the last one ever sent, nearly four years ago. Tim had verified that Amity was indeed still around and from what he found, everything seemed fine. But it was clear that something had happened and that the League hadn’t stepped in to help. It was worrying, to say the least, and Jason couldn’t stop replaying the way Danny had sounded and the tense resignation in his face when he asked Jason to look into it.

They had mentioned bringing Bruce into the loop to see if he knew anything about it, but they had both ultimately decided to talk to Danny once more to see if he’d offer any information before dragging the League into it (especially when it was clear that Danny didn’t trust the League to help at this point).

Tim hadn’t been able to scrounge much up about the mysterious GIW, though he had managed to find more of the Drs. Fenton’s research along with seemingly endless designs and patents of various weapons and machines all intended for working on ghosts, or ecto-entities as they put it. Their research on ectoplasm was apparently highly interesting according to Tim and had sent him into a deep rabbit hole, but Jason was more focused on finding the GIW and trying to figure out how exactly Danny fit into this whole thing.

Tim had left in a rush after realizing the time but Jason lingered a while after, mind still racing. Which is how he ended up disgracing himself by stumbling into Danny and leaving with a racing heart as those bright blue eyes followed him, making him itch with the urge to turn back around and ask every question that was burning to be answered.

The roar of his engine and wind whipping through his jacket was a decent distraction, and donning the suit and helmet was even better. He didn’t usually patrol when the sun was still out, but he needed something to curb the restless energy that made his limbs buzz and he had nothing else to do that day.

His mind wandered back to Danny at every spare moment, trying to parse together the connection between him and the supposed ghost that had tagged along to Gotham. It didn’t make sense to Jason, why a ghost would attach itself to someone who’s parents were so extremely dedicated to the forceful research of said ecto-entities. He would assume something like that would stay as far away from the Drs. Fenton’s as possible if they didn’t want to be caught and experimented on. (Which, from their research sounded like a possibility, though Jason also didn’t understand how one could experiment on a ghost. He was getting tired of all the things he didn’t understand.)

He struck unexpected gold while talking to one of the street kids he watched out for in exchange for information (at least, that’s what the kids thought the agreement was — the information was just a bonus to Jason who’d look out for the kids regardless, but he remembered being a street rat himself and how any act of kindness could feel like a trap, the need to be square and even to avoid owing someone more than you could give).

The mention of some weird guys in white suits normally wouldn’t give him more than a second’s pause, but now it set alarm bells off and when asked for more specifics he found himself talking with a few of his other contacts and getting confirmation that there seemed to be quite a few of these mysterious ‘guys in white’ roaming around Gotham, close enough to Crime Alley to be noticed by some of the residents but never doing anything to warrant further scrutiny.

No one seemed to know how many there were or where they operated out of (or what their goals were, if any), but he had a gut feeling that they were the same group that Danny had described and asked a few people to keep a closer eye on any of the men that they could, hoping to be able to solve at least part of the mystery Danny had presented them.

𓆩⟡𓆪

Every conversation with Danny was both enlightening and completely frustrating.

Tim had a long list of subjects to research but finding any information on Amity or these ‘Guys In White’ was like pulling teeth. He scoured the internet for articles or statements and came away with frustratingly little to show for it.

He had found a few promising blogs from various Amity Park residents that mentioned ghosts and the name Phantom in particular, and had most of his luck with a niche high school newspaper archive he finally tracked down that provided grainy pictures of said resident ‘ghost boy’ and various tales of attacks that Tim knew better than to think were exaggerated based on the quantity and subjects of the distress calls the League had received and had marked as ‘resolved’, but what the hell. He didn’t understand how rogues as powerful as these had flown under the League’s radar all this time, and he was still in the process of figuring out who, exactly, had fucked with the calls and left Amity to the mercy of a truly staggering amount of rogues with no back up.

Tim was nearly ready to make a trip to Amity himself to see what the fuck was going on. Hell, he was about ready to go to Batman with everything and let him flush out the incompetent asshole and put the fear of Vengeance into whoever fucked up this badly. But, that would have to wait. Tim needed more concrete proof, needed a complete report before he went to Bruce with the subject of ghosts and despite his logic, he also wanted to keep working with Danny before bringing others into this mess. He wanted to trust the guy, and he wanted Danny to trust them to be able to help. He’d clearly already been failed by the League, Tim didn’t want to burn him twice.

Surprisingly, it was Jason who found the most valuable information regarding the GIW.

“Apparently they were officially disbanded several years ago, but there’s a rogue group of ex-operatives that are trying to keep things going. And guess where they’re based out of?”

Tim sighed. “Is B going to like this?”

“Absolutely not,” Jason said grimly.

“Well, fuck. Do you have any information on exactly where?”

Jason sighed, “No. Getting the little information I got was a fucking pain in my ass, but I have eyes out and hopefully I’ll get a location soon.”

Tim decided he didn’t want to know how Jason got the intel and sighed, looking down at their spread of information. It was depressing him. “Yeah, same here. It’s like everything that I’m searching for specifically has been fucking scrubbed from the internet. It’s infuriating.”

Jason grunted in agreement and leaned back in his seat, staring at the files and news article copies and still-fuzzy despite being enhanced photos. Tim was snapped out of his own musings when Jason suddenly sat upright with a, “Fuck me.”

“What?” Tim asked in fervor.

“Get me a notepad and pen,” Tim did as asked without complaint, a true testament to how badly he wanted to figure this shit out.

He watched over Jason’s shoulder as he started to make a list and what — oh.

Oh.

“Holy shit.”

#jisvis #jisvis ch.3 #vee’s writing #vee’s wips #vee’s dpxdc fics

[jennyandvastraflint]

It's late, I'm very tired, but I am going to write you the ask anyway because I need you to know you put a new fic idea into my head and somehow it has grown and now what am I going to do? Do I have time for it? No. But it's been a lot of fun writing a snippet on the train today (as you do) and I hope it will stay for a while and maybe develop?

Basically, it's -

"[The cat] already has a name" the Doctor said suddenly. "She's called Siren." "You've named her?" Yaz exclaimed. "Has she told you?" Graham asked. "Mate, she doesn't actually speak 'cat'; she was having you on, earlier" Ryan stage whispered, before blinking and looking over to the Doctor. "You don't, do you?" "She's wearing a name tag" the Doctor explained and really, now that Yaz was examining the cat's collar, there was a tiny silver square reading 'Siren'. "Oh" she said, wondering why the Doctor hadn't used the name yet. Was it as not to get too attached? It had taken her awfully long to enter the discussion on the name, too.

I'm not quite sure how far this will go but there is actual plot already somewhere. It's a bit - difficult though. Because they're all treating the cat like you would treat a cat. Which is different from how you'd treat a human/timelord/whatever, especially when it comes to boundaries. And they don't know she's not a cat of course, because River is there ~undercover~. To them, basically, 13 has 'adopted a stray'.

Anyway, it is still very fun :) (also 90% of it has turned into a zoo tycoon ad but I am blaming that on companion-showdown) I love writing for the fam! It's difficult to juggle so many people in one scene but I love all of them so much 🥰 (but if I do write this whole piece it will probably end up being doctor/yaz/cat!river centric so that's only 3 characters and one is mainly non-verbal)

(This is about that cat named River Song in that post (yesterday?) and you saying it should be River undercover btw. Not sure whether that's been clear until now.)

Do you think Siren is a good name? Sirens sing and live in bodies of water, so I thought she might choose it as a not-too-obvious undercover name. Plus, River would dig the seductress connotations. (It might also have come to my mind because we've been talking about mermaids but anyway)

Alternatively, I was thinking Cleopatra bc we know River has cosplayed as her and it would be cute to call the cat 'Cleo'. It's a very cat-like name, I think.

Or 'Melody'? More angsty but also more obvious and riskier. And the idea is that the Doctor cannot know either she's there. But it also makes a good name for a cat I think.

(also, yeah, I totally haven't finished the lkh rewrite either, I think I told you earlier. But ohhh shiny new fic concept with thasmin and River and a cat 😍😍😍 anyway I am blaming you <3 (for the idea, not the procrastinating - the procrastinating is 100% on me))

God, I hope this is halfway coherent now. I'm not feeling too coherent 😅

Anyway thank you so much for listening <3 I'm very grateful to hear any thoughts! On the name or general thoughts :) Also questions! As I said, there is some plot. Unfinished, but I can see a main direction (and it looks suspiciously like 20k+ words so... not sure I will follow it ever)

First of all, absolutely love that my bullshit inspired you XD

Second, I love the scene you wrote omgggg! The fact the fam didn't notice the nametag and just went to the more outlandish explanation of "13 speaks cat" 😂

I love the name Siren so much!! Like first, it fits with the "River" (body of water) "Song", but it also reminds me of how when River calls for the Doctor, they are always there for her, almost as though drawn to River.

(Shiny new ideas always so appealing, yuppp, it is a thing I know all too well)

I am so excited to read more of this, and am looking forward to the plot that awaits us!

On the point of juggling so many characters, yes, I find that anything above three characters regularly interacting gets a bit crowded. Perhaps you'll still find a way to have Ryan and Graham there and doing little tasks during the fic, like for instance sending them to get food for Siren XD

I am honoured to have enabled this as your writing sounds a delight!! May the writing gods bless you, may your writing be plentiful and motivating!

#doctor who #thirteenth doctor #river song #yasmin khan #ryan sinclair #graham o'brien #tardis fam #Fanfiction #ask

[woltourney]

ROUND 2 / SIBE B / POLL 8

Vastha Mhakaracca (@incense-and-iron) v. Amor Valentine (@chocobotism)

Vastha Mhakaracca:

q. What is your WoL name and pronouns? a. Vastha Mhakaracca [He/They]

q. What is your WoL's species? a. Miqote - Keeper of the Moon

q. What is your WoL's class? Or classes? a. Main classes: Dragoon, Dark Knight, Monk, Reaper, Dancer

q. What data centre/server are you on, if you want people to find you? a. N/A

q. Tell us a bit about your WoL! a. I'm a happy guy! Like to entertain my friends and put a smile on other people's faces. I ended up becoming a hero after following (partly) in my mother's footsteps-- she was a lancer and gave me her old lance when I wanted to leave home to adventure. It kind of broke ages ago… but I still have it! So she shouldn't be too mad about it. Hopefully, heh. Uh, anyway, I enjoy dancing and have tons of experience in managing and entertaining people since my family runs a small inn on the side of some nameless road. As for liking being a hero… it's complicated; as much as I really wish it wasn't that way. It use to be so easy and fun. Simple, even. There was still danger of course, but… I dunno. Fighting five giant ladybugs doesn't really match up in danger levels as the types of things I've been up too as of late [[<-- post EW content]]. Not to mention all the worst parts of having so much on your shoulders, things I really don't want to get into for such a fun event. B-But, don't take it as if I don't want to be a hero!! I can do it, so I want to do it. And it's not a 'If I don't do it, no one will', either. I think there are people who definitely could and would. People who have pulled way more weight through all this than I have. Even so, with all the pain and trouble I've been though, it's worth it at the end of the day. Knowing that I've helped so many people, that I have the power to keep the worst at bay, that I can make a change in the world and have that change try and be something good and positive and kind: that's what makes me like such a dangerous and oftentimes thankless job. Free time? Well, there's: dancing, cooking [[Culinarian is at level 90]], tending to my new island hangout, I've been doing LOTS of sightseeing-- Oh! I LOVE taking pictures and doing photography. Mostly of landscapes, they're just easier for me to work with than people; not to say I don't snap pictures of my friends now and again. What else… Oh! I've been taking up other crafting jobs as well since I have the spare time. It gives me something to keep my hands busy and lets me go out and collect more plants and rocks. I always liked going out to collect random stuff, but some of my older sisters, who I ended up bullied into hiring on as retainers so they could keep tabs on me away from home, got tired of me dumping popotos and iron ingots onto them to figure out how to sell en mass every week. I saw nothing wrong with it, but it really just must be me. Hmm… A lot more stuff about me is kind of personal. While I'm a rather open guy and like to chat, there's even some stuff I don't like talking about too casually or with strangers, sorry! Maybe we can be friends? I'm always open to new friends! Let's talk more sometime, okay?

q. Why should YOU win? (Answer IC!) a. Why should I win? Oh man, I just think it'd be neat! "Vastha Mhakaracca, winner of the…" uh, what was this called again? Oh, right! "winner of the WoLTourney 2023!" Could even put that on my little adventure card thingy just for fun.

q. Anything else you wanna add? a. Some other facts about Vastha he didn't get to cover himself: Transmasc [he/they] and gay (despite all the handsome bachelors in game, he hasn't fallen for more past a short lived crush or two.) He has 4 older sisters, making him the youngest in the family He use to be more meek and shy, which turned to 'all talk no bite', which turned out to now where he's more mellow and friendly but will not hesitate to throw hands if someone starts something He actually likes to do fetch quests because it lets him explore local areas to take more pictures Vastha comes off as a bit of a dunce and a ~stoopid widdle catboi~ to people because he likes to have fun and goof around like he use too (before all the horrors (tm) of being an adventurer). He notices, but doesn't comment on it. He'd rather people keep thinking it and underestimate him so he can prove them wrong through action. And with so much life experience now, he really doesn't care what others think of him anymore; he knows himself and that's all he can control in life. Despite being so giddy and friendly, the man does have some things he dislikes a normal degree, and other things (and people) he hates with the rage of a thousand suns-- which upon mention of will immediately switch his mood to more sour and serious. It's rare to stumble across such topics, thankfully.

Amor Valentine:

q. What is your WoL name and pronouns? a. Amor Valentine (they/them)

q. What is your WoL's species? a. Au Ra (Xaela)

q. What is your WoL's class? Or classes? a. ARR: Lancer/Dragoon; HW-present: DRK main, MCH for yeehaw

q. What data centre/server are you on, if you want people to find you? a. N/A

q. Tell us a bit about your WoL! a. Amor is just a guy carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders despite it all. They care deeply for their friends and family, have a special interest in chocobos, and are full of love for the world they protect. Though a force to be reckoned with in the heat of battle, in day-to-day life they can be quite timid. A traumatic childhood event left them an orphan with no memory of their past, but they were found and raised by a Duskwight woman in Dravania, near Tailfeather. Amor was considered a strange child by most Tailfeather residents (#UndiagnosedAutism), but they ignored it as best they could while focusing their attention on the chocobos their mother would catch and train. On their 20th nameday, they left home to explore the world and hopefully learn about their past, and oops! Hydaelyn's chosen! They then proceed to become the Champion of Eorzea and save the world a bunch of times, with varying levels of enthusiasm. Though always willing to do whatever is needed to protect the realm, they are prone to becoming weary of it all. At best, they'll grin and bear it. At worst, they can become resentful and bitter towards their position in life (see: DRK). Thankfully, spending time with loved ones helps mitigate this negativity. They are taking a well earned rest after the events of Endwalker, but are prepared to dive back into the fray should the world need them. They are fond of foraging when they have the opportunity, and their special interest in chocobos lends itself well to breeding and competing at the Gold Saucer. Sometimes, they give in to the irresistible urge to run around open landscapes before rolling around on the ground.

q. Why should YOU win? (Answer IC!) a. Umm… a vote for me is a vote for the eorzean autism alliance :)

#💎 shout #💎 round two

[vihattu-thethoroughbredofsin]

Did you hear about the Transformers Earthspark's Production book being leaked?! I couldn't help but look into it, and…honestly it doesn't have as much spoilers as I thought. It just have a lot of information containing to season one only. So heads up if you start seeing posts on here spoiling it…even when there's already a few posts talking about certain bits of it already. I will say that the way the show's story has been run, from the other posts here complaining about it not being consistent and feeling rushed…yeah that had no executive meddling or anything like that…unfortunately.

Hello! Oh, yes, I read this, interesting stuff, in principle, they didn't change much in the process of creating the animated series, so most likely, all that we saw, good and bad, are the original ideas of the authors. About haste and inconsistency. It seems to me there are 2 other reasons, since Hasbro's intervention is not one of them:

The current trend of studios for seasonal approval. That is, studios and streaming services now do not give guarantees and permits for long-running series and animated series, focusing on the ratings of the first seasons. For this reason, the authors are forced to make every season, especially the first, a complete story, and at the same time put in there all the interesting things that should interest the viewer, since there is no guarantee that the authors will have time to show it all later. I think it affects the pace of the narrative. Therefore, we do not see spoilers for the second season in these materials, because, as it seems to me, there were no special ideas for the second season. Yes, we know that the second season was approved even before the cartoon began to be shown, but given that animated series are not produced quickly, the second season was approved already during the creation of the first season, which is quite late to include at least some ideas about it in these materials.

If I'm not mistaken, some of the creators worked on the Cyberverse. And despite the fact that this series was not bad, there were very serious problems with the pace of narration, with the stretching of those events that were not worth it, and too quick solution of those plots that needed time to develop. The authors obviously learned something after that, but not to the end.

About the rest of the information. As I said, they haven't changed much from the original concepts, but something has changed.

Robby is shown not as a leader as planned, in the final animated series, little attention is focused on this, respectively, the relationship with Twitch has become a little different, she is much more a leader than he is.

Some details about Meridian, however, maybe in the third part of the first season they will still have time to tell about it.

Some of the designs in the concept arts were better.

I like that the Hashtag has an unusual purple color for one of the main positive characters in transformers, but it was worth diluting this color with other shades and accents, as it was on the original art.

Well, Nightshade could be a gargoyle. I have nothing against owls, but a gargoyle… I would really like to look at such an alternative mode. In addition, the physique on the concept art reflects much better the idea of the character that the authors wanted to introduce than the resulting close to a lean, masculine, too human-like physique. However, the shape of the head eventually came out better already in the cartoon, as well as the overall color. But, probably, everything depended on what design Hasbro could make a toy from, which is the determining factor.

In general, it was an interesting look at the working materials and how it all changed.

#transformers #Transformers Earthspark #tf earthspark #tfes #tfe #earthspark #earthspark spoilers #answered ask

[shyvioletcat]

OKAY STAY WITH ME FOR A SEC. So the perils of writing/posting late at night is that I completely forgot the timeline of my story. I had to rework some things, because Rowan should have been in his new job for about a year *face palms*. the main joke is still there but the plot around Lorcan’s visit changed a bit. I’m so sorry, this is embarrassing. Please enjoy... again... if you wanted. 

How’s One To Know? Masterlist

~~~~~

– – Day at New Job: 330 – –

Lorcan pushed the trolley through the grocery store aisles, his little companion sitting in the seat behind the handlebar. He’d come to Orynth for a break. His workplace was becoming a certain kind of hell and he needed out for a little while. Rowan seemed to be thriving here so Lorcan was curious to see why, see what had changed him so much. Right now Rowan was at home catching up on a few things, without that back breaking pace Maeve demanded over everything, and Lorcan had offered to take Ivy for a while so he could work uninterrupted. 

So he had picked Ivy up from her daycare and brought her with him on the grocery run to pick up some essentials Rowan had asked him to grab… and Lorcan decided that maybe he’d pick stuff up for dinner as well. It was more than Rowan had asked him to do, but he was the one who had offered his home to stay in—free of charge—and had been more than accommodating. Making dinner was the least Lorcan could do.

He felt little warm hands press over his and he looked down to see Ivy grinning up at him. “What are you doing there, huh?”

The only answer he got was a stream of giggles. 

“Well, I think we just need to grab some milk and yogurt and then we’re done,” Lorcan said. 

“And Da at home?” Ivy asked.

Lorcan nodded. “Yep, waiting just for you.” 

He booped Ivy on the nose and that earned him another giggle. The two of them wandered down to the milk and Lorcan put a three bottle in the trolley. Just a little further down was the yogurt and Lorcan grabbed a tub for himself. 

“Hmm, looks like we’re done.” He was about to head but then he noticed the sugary array in front of him. Yogurts and custards were on display in little pouches decorated with the latest cartoon characters to catch the attention of children. “How about a treat?”

“For me?” Ivy’s face was positively gleeful. 

“Yeah, bud. A treat just for you,” Lorcan told her. 

Her eyes went to the chilled shelves immediately, darting over everything on offer. “‘dere, Uncle Lor.” 

Ivy was pointing past the figurative bags of sugar to the flavoured milk. Lorcan obeyed the command and pushed the trolley down the aisle. 

“Yeah, these,” Ivy confirmed. 

“So, strawberry?” Lorcan guessed, reaching for a pink bottle.

“No.”

“Banana then?” He went to the next flavour on the shelf. 

“No, chocolate,” Ivy said, pointing with more fervour. 

Lorcan nodded, appreciating her selection. “Chocolate milk. Yeah, that’s the good shit.”

“That’s the good shit.”

Oh, he was a dead man. Lorcan froze, the small bottle of chocolate milk in front of him which Ivy was all too eager to relieve him of. Her little voice had echoed his words right back at him. With nothing left to do he laughed, a lot. It was too funny not to, and hopefully Ivy wouldn’t repeat it.

“You got that right,” Lorcan said, his voice still shaking a little and held out his fist for a fist bump. 

Ivy gave it to him, then used both hands to shake up the milk. Seeing the little girl so content with her treat, Lorcan knew his job was done and headed for the register. 

~~~~~

The door of Rowan’s apartment opened and he heard his daughter before he saw her. Ivy was giggling at something Lorcan had said and she was nearly in hysterics. That sound brought a smile to Rowan’s face and he closed his laptop. He had got some work done, but nearly not as much as he would have liked to. There was a big project that he was working on for the company and it had him working out of office hours which was unusual. But Evalin and Rhoe would understand if it wasn’t finished quite yet. They were always more lenient on him because of Ivy, and he had told them he had a friend staying as well. They had nearly extended his deadline over that. Rowan had refused, he had this under control. It was so vastly different from how his workplace had once been. 

“Da!”

Ivy ran to where Rowan was sitting at their modest dining table and he caught her. He hugged her tight, taking comfort in the way she hugged him back. It would have lasted longer if not for the something digging into his shoulder, which made Rowan pull her down to sit on his knee.

“What do you have there?” Rowan asked, noting how Lorcan went to deposit more than one bag in the kitchen. He’d just asked him to grab some bread and milk, it was surprising he had more than that. 

“I gots chocolate milk,” Ivy said, holding the bottle up so he could see. “That’s the good shit.”

The rustling in the kitchen stopped and Rowan very slowly turned around to face his friend. Lorcan looked both nervous and amused, Rowan was just plain mad.

“You taught my daughter to say what?’ Rowan’s voice was lethal. 

“It just slipped out,” Lorcan said, trying to brush it off but his laughter ruined it for him. “Come on, it’s funny.” 

Rowan’s traitorous lips did twitch. If she hadn’t sounded so godsdamned cute while she said it, it would be much easier to stay mad. 

“You like some, Da?” Ivy offered him the bottle. “It’s good shit, Uncle Lor says so.” 

Uncle Lor lost it completely at that, laughing without restraint in the kitchen. Ivy started too, knowing she’d made the joke but not knowing exactly what it was. With the two of them laughing Rowan couldn’t help it and he joined in too. 

“No thank you, my love,” Rowan told his daughter, kissing her silky hair. “That’s all for you.” 

Lorcan finished up in the kitchen, sitting down at the table with a sigh and a beer in his hand. “Get much done?”

Rowan shrugged in reply. “Enough for now.”

He remembered when enough was never good enough, those night and early mornings where he would work himself to the bone. Nowadays he not only enjoyed life, but he enjoyed work as well. It was strange. Looking at Lorcan he wondered if he was starting to feel the same strain that eventually had led to Rowan breaking. We wondered if there was an ulterior motive to his reclusive friend visiting him out of the blue. 

His thoughts were broken by Ivy taking a sip and muttering to herself, “Hmm, good shit.”

The hand over his mouth did nothing to hide Lorcan’s laughter. 

Rowan lent over, swiping the beer before his friend could take a sip. “You are never babysitting again.”

Lorcan snorted. “You try telling that to her.” 

Of course Lorcan would use that line of argument, he was Ivy’s favourite uncle. It was just a shame that they didn’t get to see each other all that often. Maybe, after a few more days, Rowan might be able to convince Lorcan that Orynth had more to offer than the bleak existence he would return to. After seeing there was another way to run a publishing company that didn’t rely on such a totalitarian control, there was no way Rowan would ever go back. If he played his cards right, who knows what might happen.

~~~~~

Tags: @fucking-winchester-trash​ // @literary-licorice​ // @galyxsy // @tangledraysofsunshine​ // @highqueenofelfhame​ // @3am-reading​ // @soup-that-is-too-hawt​ // @aelinfire-bringer // @nalgenewhore​ // @highladyofthesith // @http-itsrebecca​ // @sleep-and-books​ // @alifletcher2012​ // @westofmoon​ // @sleeping-and-books​ // @ttakeitbacknoww​ // @armixers-unite // @mariamuses​ // @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen​ // @velarian-trash​ // @queenofxhearts​ // @heroesofterrasen​ // @highladyofstoriesandmusic​ // @empire-of-wildfire​ // @camerooonchiu​ // @crackedship​ // @lowhangingtreebranches // @over300books​ // @yourwhisperingshadows​ // @thesirenwashere​ // @tswaney17​ // @impossiblescissorspeachpaper​ // @cat5313​ // @judelovescardan​ // @flowerspringsea​ // @chaoticskyy​ // @the-regal-warrior​ // @fanfictrash3000​ // @blueeyes425​ // @starseternalnighttriumphant​ // @bamchickawowow​ // @thehuntressofmoon // @giorgia-the-trashpanda​ // @flora-and-fae​ // @thereaderandfangirl​ // @illyrian-bookworm​ // @chemicha​ // @meltalgel // @gay-book-nerd​ // @that-odd-puzzle-piece​ // @i-love-all-books // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato​ // @girl-who-reads-the-books​ // @hizqueen4life​ // @the-third-me​ // @1islessthan3books​ // @bestmelle​ // @cursebreaker29​ // @b00kworm​ // @superspiritfestival​ // @aesthetics-11​ // @maastrash​ // @mynewdreamwasyou​ // @the-last-apprentice​ // @charincharge​ // @firestarsandseneschals​ // @scarznstars​ // @absolute-dissapointment // @thesurielships​ // @df3ndyr​ // @trinitybailey2003 // @gwynethhberdara​ // @booknerdproblems​ // @larisssss​ // @sevenfreckles-for-sevenloves // @rolltide7​ // @scandinavianromantic // @tillyrubes10​ // @starwarsslytherin // @minaidss // @paytin77​ // @jesstargaryenqueen​ // @anntheintrovert​ // @starbornvalkyrie​ // @loudphantomdragon​ // @woollycat22 // @claralady​ // @perseusannabeth​ // @fangirlprincess09​ // @maddymelv // @sierrareads​ // @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx // @jlinez // @lysandra-ghost-leopard​ // @rowaelinismyotp​ // @pullnpeeltwizzlers​ // @anne-reads // @jadeaffliction​ // @gracie-rosee​ // @elriel4life​ // @rowaelinrambling​ // @tothestarswholistentodreamers // @thenerdandfandoms // @castielspelvis​ // @swankii-art-teacher​ // @grandma-noob-lord​ // @vanzetanze​ // @highlady-brittney​ // @story-scribbler​ // @linguine-panini // @pastasiren​ // @surielandiareendgame // @silentquartz​ // @live-the-fangirl-life​ // @whimsicallyreading​ // @goddess-aelin​ // @littleboxofthunder​ // @empress-ofbloodshed​ // @booksbqueen // @rowanwhitethornisbae​ // @charlizeed​ // @feysand-loml​ // @aelin-queen-of-terrasen​ // @alyx801​ // @amandaswallowtail​ // @louiseleblancdiggory​ // @abookishfreak // @danibutterr​ // @thegreyj​ // @lizzyfirebringer // @endlessdaydream​ // @magnifique1807​

#it looks the same but it's different #trust me #i woke up this morning and was like #no... oh no #i'm a disaster #thank you for bearing with me #rowaelin fanfiction #how's one to know?

[ryqoshay]

Putting on Hairs: Post Production - Waking Up Second

Primary Pairing: YohaRiko Rating: G Words: 653 AU: Theater, Monsters, Angels and Demons Fandom: Love Live Sunshine Parent Fic: Putting on Hairs - Post Production Time Frame: Sometime after the main story Event: Promptober 2023 Event Source: Idol Fanfic Heaven channel on Discord Prompt: Second

---------

Author's Note: First entry of the new event!

Summary: Riko awakens in Yoshiko's room again

---------

Riko opened her eyes.

And immediately squeezed them shut.

By the nine circles of Hell, why was Heaven blasting her with so much light? What happened to the room-darkening curtains? What had she done to deser…

“Time to wake up, Riri!”

“Ughn…” The demon groaned. “Yocchan…?”

“It may be our day off, but you can’t sleep through all of it!” The fallen angel said, far too cheerfully for this early…

Wait, what time was it? Usually, Riko was the first to wake up and needed to rouse a lethargic Yoshiko. How late had she slept?

Riko reached up to blindly search Yoshiko’s headboard. Ah, there. She pulled her phone down and rolled onto her side to face away from the overbearing radiance; both window and girlfriend. She unlocked the screen… Oh… She flopped onto her back and sighed.

Yoshiko giggled and moved to the side of the bed. “Maybe having Envy boost Mrs. Pointyhorn’s power was a bit of overkill.” She referenced the events of earlier in the morning when she had her companions, a psychic brain in a jar and an insomnia-consuming, closet-dwelling monster, assist Riko get to sleep after a restless night of worrying about the upcoming play. “I figured Riri would still get up at daybreak, not sleep until afternoonbreak.”

“Afterno… wha?”

Yoshiko grinned as she put a knee on the mattress and leaned down to plant a kiss on Riko’s forehead. “Good morning, my beloved demon.”

Riko pursed her lips as Yoshiko started to stand back up. She reached up, wrapped her arms around her girlfriend’s neck and pulled her back down into a proper kiss. “Good morning, my beloved angel.” She said as she released Yoshiko.

“Fallen angel.”

“But an angel nonetheless.”

Yoshiko smiled at what was becoming a bit of a game between them. “Sleep well?”

Riko nodded as she sat up, pulled off the duvet and swung her legs off the side of the bed. She then raised her arms into the air and arched her back to stretch and get her blood flowing. “Mm?” She hummed as she noticed Yoshiko staring.

“Oh, uhm…” Pink dusted Yoshiko’s cheeks. “I, uhm… I’ve never seen Riri’s morning routine ‘cause she always gets up first.”

Riko laughed lightly. “Maybe I can start waking up second from time to time.”

“Then when Riri does, Yohane can make breakfast. Like today!” Yoshiko stated proudly before blinking. “Although I suppose it’s lunch now.”

“The first meal of the day would be breakfast.”

“Yeah, but it’s the second for me.” Yoshiko admitted, hanging her head. “Sorry, I wasn’t able to wake you earlier and got hungry.”

“It’s fine, Yocchan.” Riko assured.

“Then let’s go eat.” Yoshiko grabbed Riko’s hand to pull her up. “It was really more a snack than a meal, so Yohane is hungry again. And Riri hasn’t eaten at all yet today.”

“Alright, just give me one second.”

“…?” Yoshiko tilted her head.

Riko knelt and leaned down to see under the bed. “Sleep well, Mr. Gnashtooth. Thanks for watching over us last night.”

A wet grating sound came from the shadows, and while Riko still did not understand the words, she knew the bed monster was responding kindly.

Riko then stood and made her way to the closet where she gently knocked on the door. “Mrs. Pointyhorn, thank you for your aid last night. I slept very well. I hope you might be willing to help me again should I continue to have trouble sleeping.”

Silence was all that came from the other side of the door.

“Seems she’s still being shyer than Riri.” Yoshiko commented.

“It’s alright.” Riko said. “I’m sure she heard me.”

“Riri is getting used to living here.”

“Mm.” Riko responded with a smile. “And last but not least will be Envy.”

“You can greet him while I set the table.”

“Alright.”

With that, the angel and demon left the bedroom to begin their day.

---------

Author's Note Continued: I may be setting a dangerous precedent for myself. Last year, I joked in the IFH discord channel that I should try to work in the prior year's prompt as well. Then, by chance, the idea that came to me not only allowed me to include said prompt, but also follow the theme of my first entry from that year as well.

And now, for my third year participating in IFH's Promptober event, I have not only included both of my prior year's prompts, but also followed the theme of my first prompts from both again. For the record, Shadows was from '21 and Daybreak was from '22.

I'm not sure I can continue trying to combine three prompts together for all thirty one days of the event; some of last year's combos felt a little forced. Not saying I won't try of course. But I may need to allow myself some leniency insofar as maybe writing two entries, one for each prior year's prompt.

This will also allow me to work toward my other goal of reaching 70 entries for the event. Of course the last two years, I did add a few extra chapters in November as I worked through the Backup prompts. There are six backup prompts this year, so I need to get at least 64 normal entries if I want to reach 70 with just a single entry for each backup.

#YohaRiko #YoshiRiko #Sakurauchi Riko #Tsushima Yohane #Love Live Sunshine #fanfic #Promptober 2023 #Tsushima Yoshiko #YohaRiri

[residentdormouse]

Fanfic Asks

A, D, F, J, T

I'll leave the fic up to you - talk to me about your favourite!

💖 Thank You for the Asks! 💖

I reordered a bit for spoiler purposes - hope you don’t mind.

A: How did you come up with the title to [insert fic]?

Something like a Spiral - Honestly, probably should have just went straight ‘Spiral’, but too late, no take backs, it stuck. Its a song - Spiral by Godsmack. Very thematic to the whole story. Randall Flagg’s fuckery and being stuck in these reiterations. It just… fit.

Just Keep Diving Down - ‘the rabbit hole’ would finish it off. Reference to Alice in Wonderland (Are we really surprised here? It's kind of my whole thing…) I mean hell, Glen has the line “Let’s see how far down the rabbit hole goes.” which I have plastered on my Tumblr header. To completely solidify the decision, I heard it in ‘White Rabbit’ by Central Egypt when I was debating titles as well. While the song doesn’t completely fit the whole vibe, it stuck.

D: Is there a song or a playlist to associate with [insert fic]?

Oh boy, and how. I’m crazy with my playlists. While there are story playlists, I much prefer my character playlists. Oh it’s a Glen chapter, let's vibe for a bit. Lloyd? Ok, switch it up. Etc. I have all of my playlists on Spotify, and linked in my ‘Jumping to Wonderland’ main post.

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

I really liked how this turned out, because it was one of those times where I hit a block. I wanted Glen to be comforting, stop her from crying, and it wasn’t flowing right. Felt stale. So I talked with @impuretale , and she gave me sage advice: What if he made it worse? And that worked. Well, at least I hoped it did…

Laughter mingled amongst her crying. While his smile met his eyes in that familiar twinkle, it still pulled at her heart. “I don’t know that I can protect you.”

"Maybe you can't, Giggles…"

It hit her like a punch to the gut. Her stomach dropped while his smile remained. Twinkling eyes while her insides felt hollowed out. "Maybe this is what was always meant to be. And maybe there's some truth in what he told you."

Her breathing started to quicken in pace, and she attempted to hold it in her lungs if only to feel some sort of control. How could he say that? New tears stung her eyes, and the burn went all the way to her throat where she held back the air desperately wanting to escape in a breath.

"Maybe you shouldn't ‘waste your energy on dead men’, as he put it. You need it for him. To make this all mean something."

She couldn't hold it any longer, and the tears broke past once more. He pulled her back in another embrace, and she buried her face into his chest as the sobs racked her body. He held her solid, reassuring and comforting while still completely shattering her heart. There was no holding back now; these were harsh truths she might have to accept. Her breathing began to even out as he rubbed circles on her back. Once it was regulated, he pulled away; just enough to look her in the eyes.

"Mother Abagail said that we need to have faith. I'm not sure what's beyond here. God. An afterlife. Heaven. Hell. I don't have much faith in all that. But I have faith in you. If this is going to be successful, you'll need to be ready for him."

He put a hand on her cheek, and her shoulders slumped down, head leaning forward to rest against his. A brief moment passed before he urged her to look back at him. Her eyes still shimmered wet, but held anything further at bay.

“So what do you say, Giggles? Give this another shot?”

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

I mean, if it's well written, I’ll read just about anything. I don’t tend to seek out stuff like A/B/O, and honestly, not into a whole lot of overly explicit smut without a good solid plot to accompany. (I know I know - I write it, but I’m smut light, at best.) Plot heavy and hurt/comfort is my jam. But again, if it's written well, I usually don’t have any ‘no go’s. 

J: Write or describe an alternative ending to [insert fic].

Going with ‘Just Keep Diving Down’, and since this is major spoilers - putting below a cut.

The major character death aspect of this really fucking destroyed me. Since you’re here, you most likely don’t care about spoilers, so towards the end, Glen dies. Again. The thing I started writing these goddamn stories to fix. I struggled with this for months. In denial. Not happy. Very upset. (Hell, I still am. Can’t listen to ‘Run Away to Mars’ without crying anymore because it was the song playing when I was writing it all.)  I knew the goal was to bring him back, ghost form. Gives him the best of both worlds then, travel with Hayden to new worlds pain free, while still being able to see his prior wife. Win win. Still fucking hurt.

So alternate would have been Not. Fucking. Doing. That. It was the original plan. Hayden and Glen were going to be working for the organization still, taking things in a better direction. That was the goal, and one day, my Glen muse hit me with a ‘yeah, you won’t like this, but…’ Why couldn’t we just follow the plan guys? WHY CAN’T WE FOLLOW THE PLAN?!

(Fanfic Writer Ask Game)

#thank you for asking #mouse's tag games and reblogs

[blocksruinedme]

Fic thoughts

Fic writing for birthday weekend has not yet produced any full fics, mostly due to having too much fun. I have however worked on several, and there's a smallidarity one that should be <1k that i got from a prompt (thanks @that-tall-queer-bassist!) that i will force myself to get out before holiday travel

Relatedly idk how much I'll be able to work on fic between the dec 22nd and jan 5th due to travel. But I have 11 hours of flights, and the new years part will be at an airbnb with fannish friends, so it's not anti-conducive to fic writing like visiting my family is

What if I try to make myself get some short fic out every week of traffic life 4? "or every week jimmy is alive". That could be a fun challenge, and if i have a tight timeline i can let myself get fic out with less obsession and endless drafts. I am afraid that if I put out quick fic people will realize how much of my writing skill comes from editing and not popping out great things on a whim. ...maybe that's silly to worry about.

Relatedly, i am exhausted from writing in an open canon. I did not intend to write so much emp s2, i was supposed to be mainly writing traffic-based, or traffic + emp1. Then the crossover hit. One of my wips is just "flower husbands, sometime late summer 2022", and the longer (very long) smallidarity fic is "generically during the crossover after they made a baby". the dark fwhimmy one is set before the reconciliation. I guess those are all set in the past, but there's future dynamics etc. I said I'd have the tango/jimmy/fwhip sequel concluded by now, but I have too many emotions about ranchers and the crossover and kind of want it to be over before I go back, to have the canon closed for real. I personally am guessing it will be all wrapped up around new years, not before christmas, because too many people are about to take breaks and i doubt it can all wrap up with only one more episode per person. Maybe it will! Maybe it's "run to the rift, get in", but Oli hasn't had a concert (OH SHIT WHAT IF THAT CLOSES THE RIFT) okay well maybe.

I can't decide if I should use a pseud for a) smut in general b) dark smut. The main problem is that The Big Series I Have Planned will have g rated fic and e rated fic, and I feel like having multiple pseuds in the same series would be weird? Maybe it's not. I've never published E before, and idk the fandom norms here as I don't read much. I will probably only post the E stuff on @blocksruinedmeafterdark? I don't know!

#me #my writing

[silentspaces]

in which I use this microblogging platform as an actual blog. there’s no rant, just rambling, because i just feel very out of sorts tonight for some reason. Very stream-of-consciousness, not really written for anyone to read. I’d put it on private, but then I’d lose it forever, just like the last couple of private posts I had made. XD

idk. sometimes you just don’t want to be at home--i guess tonight was one of those nights. i left in the late afternoon to go print and work on a last-minute editing job, but I ended up falling asleep in my car in front of the convenience store for 3 hours. maybe it was 3 hours. can’t be sure; the bright lights of the store interior erased all traces of time and my natural circadian rhythm. I then spent the next 4 hours in a diner, working while talking online, but even though it was hitting 11:30pm, I still didn’t feel ready to go home. one of the downsides of living in a countryside town is that almost everything closes at midnight, so I had to escape to either another convenience store or one of the 24-hour rice bowl places. I chose the former, opting to spend some time reading in my car, once again bathing in the white spotlight while reading a borrowed copy of Six of Crows. I haven’t read any other book in the series. As I read, I thought about how strange it felt to imagine a story where teenagers are the main characters--I work with teens every day, and let’s face it, they can be real dumbasses. There’s nothing like reality to break the illusion of fantasy. Even 3 years ago this kind of YA story wouldn’t have fazed me--in fact, I’m quite fond of the YA genre--but that was before I became intimately familiar with the high schooler psyche. I mourn the loss of my suspension of disbelief. Oh well, I won’t be in this job forever; maybe one day I’ll forget what teens are like, and I can slip back into YA fantasies without interrogating and criticizing its depiction of teenagers. Either that, or I’ve crossed some invisible threshold, and rather than some kind of loss of innocence, it’s a loss of connection to my own feelings as a teenager. Maybe it’s too far in my past for me to reach anymore. Maybe I’ve had to be the authority figure for too long, consciously separating myself from the idea of adolescence and performing adulthood, and I’ve become Robin William’s Peter Banning from Hook. Have I forgotten how to fly? It certainly feels that way sometimes---ever since my last job, it just feels like the part of me that experienced spontaneous wonder and joy got crushed beneath the heavy boot of workplace capitalism. The business world was not kind, and though I escaped, it feels more like my soul came back from a war, scarred and changed. Even my current job feels rote and routine, the city I live in feels like a narrow cage at times, and I no longer find myself randomly gazing happily at the morning light on my way to work. My sense of peace and serenity has disappeared in the last 5 years, replaced by...well, not a numbness, but just a continued state of being, punctured by deliberate excursions of fun and travel, like using a defibrillator on my life. Where’s the deeper meaning of it all? Why do I feel so disconnected from the universe? Sometimes I wonder if I should throw it all away and move back to the remote area I used to live in by the seaside. but would it be the same? could I find that spark for life again there? But the spark doesn’t originate from the place, it originates from the person, so if I can’t find it here, would it be pointless to move at all?

What do I want out of my life? Where do I see myself going? I can’t seem to hold onto this conversation with myself for more than 3 minutes. I just know that I don’t want here. But where do I want? And what do I want to be doing? Who do I want to be with? Is it loneliness that is eating away at me? Tonight, it felt like an Edward Hopper painting. That’s exactly what it felt like. After the second round in front of the convenience store, I went to Sukiya, a rice bowl place, and worked there for another hour or so. But the night felt empty, in limbo, but there was nothing to wait for. Both the restaurants I visited tonight had their fill of guests, and even the sky itself kept itself busy and alive for hours with silent lightning. But it didn’t quite seem to reach me, I a traveler in a reverse odyssey, trying to stay out of my home as long as I could. But as it reached 2am, I knew my time adrift in the liminal space was ending, and I finally drove home beneath the flashing darkness, past the mysterious red glow on the other side of the hills to my left, and the white haze to my right in the distance, a light that seemed as if it were being pressed down and contained by the night’s soft but firm hand of black. Everything was in a haze due to the remaining mist from the day’s rain; even the inside of my car kept a film of condensation all evening, only adding to the undefined and unformed quality of the space and time I experienced for the last few hours. Alas, I am home now, the crisp clacking of the keys and the faint chirp of the crickets outside bringing back definition to a very strange and vague night.

#my life

[userholland]

long rant abt past few months. (pls don't reblog)

tw: e/ting disorder, d/pression, s/cide, racial issues, d/ath + grief

lately, i think on my blog i've been having a crisis with myself. i think it sounds dramatic but also i think that it has been a battle of taking it lightly and saying this is the internet and its just random people or oh wow, people are actually triggering me to starve and kill myself and maybe i should restart or quit.

i have never spoken about this but i have struggled with eating for more than a decade and i have had depression/anxiety since i was ten years old. i lost all of my grandparents during the pandemic and had to move back home in order to help and support my family in this time of grief and sadness. i already thought about ending my life numerous times and covid made that harder too. but, i didn't think that the weight of anonymous people telling me to k*ll myself would make me go back into this dark cloud of me and that i have to put on this face and act a certain way on the internet in order to be respect.

i have gone through periods of depression and starving myself as more of a punishment on myself than others. i dont think that i deserve to... be on a platform if all i focus on are the criticizes of my opinion or my writing. i question how i can be perfect and well-liked, and will i be able to do that and starving myself and ending my life seemed like an option because maybe if i somehow ended my life, then no one would have to care? sort of how i thought about it over the past few months. and it was over people i've never met.

i emphasize so much that this isnt a pity post. im not asking you to take my side in my opinion bc i had some major but effective events in my life and im not asking for anyone's (especially anons) pity but just want anyone to sort of understand that i am a human behind my screen and so are all the other people getting this unnecessary hate about something that doesn't involve any of us.

at first, i thought that it would die down and i mean at the end of the day (and to this day still as a tom fan), i dont really care about tom and zendaya's relationship being real. i mainly care that tom is happy, healthy and okay in general and not working himself ragged because he feels like he's not doing enough. thats my main purpose as a blog and omy posts have changed over the past few years.

but, i dont think its fair that because i dont hold as much of a candle or liking to zendaya as i used to that i get comments about how "ill never be her" which also compare my size to hers, how im ugly, how that makes me racist/anti-black and that ill never be at her level when those were never my intentions to begin with. i dont want to be zendaya nor be like her and ive never said i wanted to. i know that i am myself and who i am doesn't matter to her and who she is doesn't matter to me. but using tom as that main reasoning and saying that because he finds her attractive that it automatically makes me unattractive is an unfair and crazy statement.

i think she's a beautiful person, but i never changed that opinion (aka calling her ugly or stick thin) because i "didn't like their relationship". i just have seen enough on insider celebrity couples over the years and how they use PR to their advantage. it's not an uncommon idea in hollywood where your one goal is to maintain fame.

i did like her for a period of time, but she's not my fav anymore and when i said that, suddenly it's like i hated her and i wanted her to burn. i just don't like her anymore, and that's okay, but respect my mutuals that do like her and her content / her and tom's relationship (in a healthy way and not an obsessive way).

ik i made a long post as well differentiating racism from hating zendaya and obviously, some stans were very upset by it by thinking it was a hate speech within itself. i didn't state my own opinion, but facts and articles while also trying to get the point across of privacy. dating or not, it's always been about their privacy and keeping them safe and that's still what i want for both of them.

i mean, the backlash was intense. looking back, i regret speaking on it because it wasn't fully my place to speak on racist issues of a black person, but i was mainly trying to point out how saying you don't like someone isnt always the result of racism. but i never meant to make it seem i was cancelling out racism as a reason. some people can be incredibly racist / use micro-aggressions, but i know deep down that's not every single person's intentions. especially not because of a ship. i did a lot of research before posting this by looking up articles and watching other youtubers rants as well. i apologize to anyone who took thought that was my intent or that i was trying to have this huge savior complex.

people went as far as making fun of my hobbies, music, race and what i like, just taking any little thing about me. especially people who i thought were my mutuals then who went behind my back and talked shit about me without even telling me first about their opinion privately. then once i did @ them, one of my mutuals messaged me instantly and begged me to take the post down calling them out.... it was all about saving her over saving our friendship. then they went and blocked me. it felt like betrayal from left field.

is it fair or me to analyze a possibly staged picture? yes, because its up to anyone's opinions and we all obviously have different ones. but at the end of the day, i hope that tom and zendaya both feel safe and not actually overexposed and uncomfortable. god forbid there was ever a leak of addresses, phone numbers and even places they go to. all i'll say is, give them space, but have whatever opinion you want on them. it's fine.

im not hoping this post stops the anon hate either. ive gotten better at ignoring it since i realize its from this anonymous person who doesnt know me, follow me or care about me. they just care about my opinion and that opinion only which is just so weird to me. i mean, even people say im a white girl and that makes me worse, when i put that i am korean in my bio / on mycarrd.co as well. i think it says more about them than it does me.

at the end of the day, im here to write and talk to my mutuals over whatever we want. whether it's tom, marvel, spider-man, or dogs and cats. i just stay here when i know i have support from my friends and i can be myself and know that ill always be able to talk to them when problems arise like these.

i hope anyone who is struggling or going through a tough time that anon hate is so small, and that you will conquer the other problems around you bc they are priorities of your life and not the internet. if you ever need to talk, feel free to message me or ask for my discord. i really want my blog to remain a safe space and nothing something full of hate so, i really hope that if any anon who has sent me hate reads this and maybe just backs off a bit. just because i dont agree with you doesnt mean i hate you and your opinions, but we can both just look the other way and go on with our lives. its just that easy

#also i dont want anyone to feel like they need to read this. just a vent post but wanted to clear what was on my shoulders #days like this always trigger me and make me want to hide #this is sort of how i feel about this whole thing in general and i never wanted to put it on one anon #liz talk.txt

[100dayproductivity]

28/100.

Oh boy. Need to regroup. Need to get thoughts out of head.

Outline:

Procrastination

Bullet journaling (BuJo)

Tiredness

Urban homesteading

(I'm just starting out this post as a rough draft so I don't think about it too much. Sometimes thinking is an obstacle to doing!)

Procrastination

Main points:

Been procrastinating A LOT again lately.

Need to look into why.

Usually, for me, procrastination means I'm feeling overwhelmed. Why am I feeling overwhelmed? I'm not sure. Will circle back to this. Let's keep going.

Another reason I procrastinate is because I'm avoiding an unpleasant task. What is the unpleasant task I'm avoiding? Honestly, all I can think of is the dishes. Well, not specifically the dishes, just chores in general. I'm so bored of it. Zero motivation to work towards making my home pleasant (which is basically my main goal currently).

But I was doing so well just a couple of weeks ago! I was on fire 🔥🔥🔥 What happened? Not sure. Let's come back to this.

Bullet Journaling (BuJo)

I started my first bullet journal last month. It was working out great! I felt so inspired! And I was getting so much done. And I felt so organized and efficient. I haven't touched it in weeks, though. What happened?

I think I know what happened. Eye surgery happened. (I had cataract surgery.) Leading up to the surgery, I was so nervous and had so many things to keep track of to get ready for it. The bullet journaling really helped me get all my ducks in a row and not forget anything important. It was such a useful tool! But post-surgery, my eyes needed time to adjust. The eye that had the surgery needed to rest and heal. The one that didn't have the surgery needed to learn how to work with the new eye. I still need to wear a contact lens in that eye, and can no longer wear glasses when I take the contact out. I can't really do any reading or writing once I take that contact lens out at night. And with the contact lens in, everything was really wonky at first. Walking outside and looking in the distance made me dizzy.

So because of all this wonky eyesight stuff, I didn't want to do any more reading or writing than necessary. So I put the bullet journal aside. I didn't have anything important coming up that I needed to keep track of, just my schedule, which is in my phone calendar.

Well, my eyesight is still a bit wonky, but definitely much better now. I pretty much read and write and use my phone as normal now. So there's no excuse to not use the bullet journal again.

But now that weeks have passed it's hard to get back into it. Why? Maybe because I feel like I've failed with it. But I really shouldn't feel that way! Just because I haven't used it in nearly a month doesn't mean I can't use it again now!

Maybe it's also hard to get back into because I'm dreading writing down all the stuff I should have been doing but haven't done. Where's the sense in that, though? Just because I don't write things down doesn't mean I don't have to do them! Also, I've been getting plenty of things done without the bullet journal!

So that begs the question: do I really need the journal? Do I feel like it's a waste of time to write things down if I manage to get them done anyway?

Well, the thing is, yes, I am managing to get things done without the bullet journal. But I've also forgotten things several times before I finally remembered to do them. It probably takes up mental energy to keep forgetting and remembering and forgetting and saying to myself, "Geez! I forgot about that again!" I also have a feeling there's things I've forgotten about that I haven't remembered. Like sending out my monthly invoices. I only realized I forgot because a client asked me, "Hey, just checking, did you send me an invoice?" What else have I not realized I'm forgetting about? There's low level anxiety associated with feeling like maybe you're forgetting something important. Again, an energy drain.

Furthermore, bullet journaling is not simply a to-do list. From what I understand, it's a practice that helps you organize your life. It's a record of past events and activities to look back on and a method of planning for the future. It's a practice that can help you get clarity and insight into your method to the madness, to see what areas of your life may need attention or tweaking. To see the bigger picture, not just your to-do list for today. To see the patterns you fall into, like going down a YouTube rabbit hole instead of doing the dishes, and then wondering why you just cannot seem to achieve a clean and tidy house. Just as an example. No reason. Completely hypothetical.

Truth be told, I have been feeling really discombobulated this past week. Really antsy, just itching to get something done, but physically tired at the same time, just wanting to sit and rest and scroll my phone. I want to go fast and slow at the same time. I think going back to using the bullet journal may help me get off my hamster wheel, and calm down and be efficiently productive again.

Tiredness

Which brings us to my next point: tiredness. I have just been feeling sooo low energy this past week or two. I especially feel it when I'm walking up the street, in the direction away from the lake. The ground elevation gradually increases going in that direction, but it's ever so gradual you normally wouldn't even notice it. I've never really noticed it before. But lately, on some days, especially if I'm carrying a backpack or groceries, I feel like I'm just barely trudging uphill. (It's worth noting that, although I am middle-aged, I am not overweight and relatively fit and healthy, so there is no good reason that I should be struggling with walking up a slight incline). Here are my thoughts on why I might be feeling such low energy:

Lack of sleep

Low vitamin D

Wonky eyesight

Poor nutrition

Lack of sleep

First and foremost, I have not been getting enough hours of sleep. No two ways about it. The main problem is I don't go to bed at a reasonable hour. This is an ongoing struggle for me. This is a huge habit I would like to change. But I keep falling back into the same patterns.

I was doing really well with going to bed at a reasonable time up until my eye surgery. That's because I shut off devices and read in bed. But now, because I can no longer wear glasses once I take the one contact lens out for the night, it's kind of difficult to read in bed. I need to figure something out. Because watching YouTube videos on my phone before bed is not working for me.

Low vitamin D

Where I live, it's recommended that people take Vitamin D supplements during the winter months. I generally do, BUT, I was told to stop taking all vitamins and supplements prior to my eye surgery. I just haven't got back into the habit of taking them. So this is an easy fix.

Wonky eyesight

I need to cut myself some slack. My brain has been working VERY HARD trying to adjust to one vision-corrected eye and one in a contact lens part of the time and just seeing everything fuzzy the other part. It is very tiring. I need to remember that this is exhausting my brain and my eyes, even if it doesn't seem like it should be a big deal. I actually have my one month follow up appointment tomorrow, and hopefully I'll get the green light to have surgery scheduled for my other eye soon thereafter. Once both my eyes are corrected, I should be feeling less tiredness from my brain and eyes working so hard. I just need to be patient.

Poor nutrition

Okay, that sounds a bit harsh. I actually eat a lot healthier than the average person, probably. But I consume a lot more sugar than I used to. Pretty sure I have a sugar addiction. The thing is, if I have food prepared and ready to eat, then I eat very healthy. The problem is when I drop the ball with food prep and find myself hungry with nothing ready to eat. Then I just stuff my face with whatever, which isn't always the best choice. Usually it involves sugary foods. Which gives me an energy spike, but then I crash. The sugar binges are not helping with the low energy.

The other thing is, I'm pretty sure I've hit perimenopause, which means changes to my body and metabolism. I can't eat crap like I used to and get away with it. Well actually, come to think of it, one of the symptoms of perimenopause is tiredness and low energy. So there you have it. Mystery solved. I feel tired because I'm perimenopausal. That was an easy revelation.

But back to the nutrition: if I'm organized, then I always have nutritious food ready to eat when I'm hungry. The bullet journaling really helped me keep on top of food prep. So if I bullet journal I'll be more organized about food, which will lead to better food choices, which will mitigate tiredness... See how it's all interconnected?

Urban Homesteading

This has nothing to do with anything, except that I'm interested in the urban homesteading trend right now, so it's on my ADHD mind a lot lately. ("Wooh, another shiny new thing to add to all my other shiny new things!")

I'm not sure how I came across it, but suddenly last week I was looking it up and downloading podcasts about "how to get started". And as I learned more about it, I realized I'm already doing it.

(If you don't know what homesteading is, it's a lifestyle where you have some land out in the country where you can grow most of the food you need to survive plus make a lot of your own household items and produce your own energy with things like solar panels--basically be über self-sufficient. So "urban homesteading" is a smaller scale version of that, where you endeavour to live as self-sufficiently as you can within the context of a city. So you're not going to have acres of crops and cows and chickens, but maybe you have enough space in your yard for a summer vegetable garden. That sort of thing.)

So anyway, there's lots of homestead-y things you can do as a city-dweller. And one of the main things everyone seems to have at the top of their lists is preparing most of your meals from scratch, whether or not you grow the ingredients yourself. So making meals from scratch is something I started to learn how to do decades ago and keep getting better at. The thing is, this is one of the things I often get sick of doing--the constant and never-ending meal prep cycle: shop for food, prepare food, eat food, clean up after food, repeat. I'm not one of those people that enjoys cooking; I just do it because I enjoy eating. But seeing that it's one of the main ways you can become an "urban homesteader" got me kind of motivated. It's almost a kind of gamification for me, seeing how I can spend the least amount of money and waste the least amount of food. I think I've been feeling burnt out with the kitchen chores lately. I need some inspo, and maybe "urban homesteading" is the inspo I need.

Insights

Right. So let's tie it all together.

I mentioned at the beginning of the post that maybe I'm procrastinating so much lately because I'm feeling overwhelmed, but I'm not sure by what. Well, obviously, by ALL THE THINGS. There's just always so many things. And I think the bullet journaling was helping me manage All The Things, so I need to start bullet journaling again.

I also mentioned that I've been avoiding the kitchen chores lately because it's just blah. No motivation. So bored of it. I need to get inspired. And maybe my newest hobby, urban homesteading, is that little spark I need.

Once I get motivated in the kitchen again, I will eat better, because I'll be better organized with meal prep. Not only that, but I find that, for me, getting organized in the kitchen leads to getting organized in the rest of my life. And the opposite is true too--when the kitchen is in chaos, I become discombobulated in general. And discombobulation leads to overwhelm. And overwhelm leads to procrastination. See how it's all interconnected?

So what's my plan of action?

Start bullet journaling again. Approach it like it's brand new to me again.

Start with the basic daily "kitchen spiral" again. (My kitchen routine that moves in a "spiral" starting with clearing off the drying rack, moving clean dishes from dishwasher to drying rack, moving dirty dishes from counter to dishwasher, then moving to the top shelf of the fridge to start food prep.) I will have better nutrition, which will help mitigate the tiredness.

Part of getting organized in the kitchen involves refilling my medication dispenser with Vitamin D. That will help with the tiredness.

Once I get back on track with the kitchen and nutrition, I will start to have more energy and more productive days. Then maybe my sleep will get back on track too.

But right now I'm sooo sleepy. Going to post this and have a little nap. 😴

#100 days of productivity #100dop #to do list #chores #procrastination #kitchen #get motivated #bujoblr #bujo #bullet journal #urban homesteading #homesteading #eye surgery #cataract surgery #cataract removal #eye health #low energy #need a nap #vitamin d #reading before sleep #bedtime routine #bedtime reading #productivity #march #2024 #need inspiration