#not even commas can save you from this one

[lilmashae]

two millimeters ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

summary | you've gotten tattoos and piercings galore... you've never been this nervous before — but this is different. lucky for you hyunjin knows a few tricks to ease your mind.

warnings | tattoo artist & piercer hyunjin x female reader · petnames · nipple stimulation · fingering (f) · oral (f) · p in v · petnames · swearing · slow burn ( porn with some plot ) · overstimulation (?) · cum eating (?)

author's note | adding commas later because i was in a funky mood about them :) this isn't the first time i've written for skz but it's maybe the first time i've felt semi-confident in it so please enjoy it ♥

your whole body's blanketed in art — tattoos and piercings trailing from your head to your toes. this isn't something new for you — so why you're so nervous is a mystery to you. you've gotten piercings before: your ears nose and mouth adorned in jewelry. but never anything like this — something more intimate.

your bestfriend had convinced you to get your nipples pierced and you'd only agreed because you were drunk. maybe you felt the regret sinking in now that you were there. but it's still too late because — "are you y/n?" a man stood before you — was this the guy? he doesn't look like any of the tattoo artists you've had before one of them recommending him if you were ever looking for a more hidden piercing. "yeah..?" tall medium length hair with brown eyes and a single piercing above his eyebrow — he's... very attractive: if you weren't nervous before your heart is definitely in your stomach imagining yourself shirtless in front of him of all people. "my name's hyunjin you can follow me."

as you sat in front of the handsome stranger you could feel your throat closing —suddenly dry and pulsing. you watched as he cleaned his supplies: needles, 2mm bars, and whatever else he thought he needed. "are you nervous?" hyunjin didn't even look up. the voice pierced through your thoughts and broke all of your concentration. "honestly? only a little bit." you smiled awkwardly. "well don't worry sweetheart. i take good care of pretty girls like you." he winked quickly finishing his preparations. you'd be lying if you said you weren't feeling sort of flustered. not only was hyunjin maybe the most handsome man you've ever seen but he was also about to see you shirtless — and now that you think about it he was going to touch you too. the idea made you squirm. "what? you don't believe me?" you shook your head "no of course i believe you..." he smiled standing up. "good so we can start."

his hands were cold as hyunjin carefully positioned you in the leather chair. "comfortable?" nodding he sat back down before explaining the process to you: "does that sound good sweetheart?" the name made you shudder. "it sounds fine thanks." he smiled grabbing disinfectant wipes and ripping the package open with his teeth. upon pulling out the pad he looked back up at you. "take your shirt off for me..." you could feel blood rushing to your head — he's only doing his job but for some reason it's turning you on beyond belief. the way you squeezed your thighs together didn't go unnoticed by hyunjin either smirking to himself and internally chuckling at how cute you were. you reached for the hem of your shirt peeling it above your head before neatly folding it in your lap. "good girl." he smiled. there's no way he isn't teasing you — he has to be aware of how wet he's making you right?

opposingly you had no idea how hard you were making him — the soft plush of your chest or with your cute little sighs as the cold alcohol pads swiftly brushed over your hardened nipples: "it's a little cold... here." or the way your breath hitched feeling his hands firmly hold you in place. you were driving him crazy. however hyunjin has great self control — even in situations like this. but not even his amazing center could save him after the way you squeezed onto his arm and let out the prettiest shaky breaths he's ever heard. "fuck..." he grunted. " 'still nervous beautiful?" you opened your eyes. they were closed tight anticipating the sharp sting of a needle. "i guess so... we can keep going though." you tried to reassure him — cute. a slight chuckle flew past his lips. "hm... i can help you if you want... relax you know?" he had to have you.

the way you looked up at him nodding with big doe eyes drove him insane. "ah use your words pretty girl..." he held your jaw thumb slipping past your puffy lips and into your mouth feeling your wet tongue. "p-please help me relax hyunjin..." you managed to get out with your legs still tightly pressed together. and with that he was more than happy to oblige by diving into your chest. as his mouth latched onto one of your nipples you couldn't help whining. the wet hot feeling of his tongue was foreign to your cold and sensitive skin. "shit..." unsure what to do with your hands you let one adventure into his hair entangling with his warm brown hair causing him to smile.

whilst the fingers on his hand toyed with your other nipple rubbing it in painfully slow circles — his other hand crept below your stomach: finding itself against the heat of your soaking entrance. two of hyunjin's fingers prodded at your opening before swiftly curling inside. "o-oh! holy shit..." you gasped feeling the scissoring motion of his finger buried in your slick gummy walls. "so wet baby... fuck." hyunjin gets a up planting a kiss on to your lips — swollen from nervously nipping at them. "i should've offered to help you sooner sweetheart..." as your lips molded together continuously pressing into each other you moaned into his mouth... the feeling of hyunjin's fingertips repeatedly kissing your g spot had you feeling dizzy. silver jewelry still adorning his fingers became lathered in a coating of slick dripping down his fingers and pooling into his palm. "h-hyunjin i think i'm... ah... fuck! i'm close..."

"yeah?" he looked up at you fingers still submerged in your sopping cunt. "go ahead and cum on my fingers pretty baby. 'want to taste you then i'll give you my cock okay?" dumbly you nodded wanting to feel more of him. "y-yes! fuck! s'okay... 'need it please hyunie..." god you might've been one of the cutest girls he's ever seen let alone touched. "hyunie baby? s'that right..?" he was already confident but something about the way your soft voice echoed his name drove him absolutely mad. that self control hyunjin was so proud of had seemingly slipped away as he carefully pulled his fingers out of you. "w-wait!" you whined at the sudden empty feeling squirming in the leather chair. "shhh... angel it's fine. 'want to give you my cock s'bad right now..."

standing over you hyunjin unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants — the denim material pooling at his ankles as he freed his dick: slightly curved up and to the left adorned with pretty little veins. hyunjin's tip was dripping in pearls of slick precum his pinky mushroom tip angry and practically pulsing. "fuck." you bit at your lip. his hands came down touching both of your thighs. he gently peppered them in kisses before opening them and spreading you out — yanking your panties to the side he stared at your glistening folds in awe. "god baby... you have such a pretty pussy. s'tight too and all wet f'me."

he smirked slyly leaving a kiss on your clit before standing up and aligning himself with your clenching hole. it didn't take long for him to bottom out: he'd lost himself in the silken walls of your cunt — hot and inviting him to stretch you out. "ah! hyunie please..." through blurry eyes you could see hyunjin with his head thrown back: huffing and out of breath. "shit y/n... i could cum right now... i'm going to move okay?" with your hands on his abdomen you eagerly agreed. "y-yeah..." each thrust of hyunjin's cock felt unreal: the slow dragging sensation of his tip kissing your cervix as both you creamed around his shaft.

"shit, shit, shit..." relentlessly hyunjin snapped his hips into your own the rolling motion not stopping once. "so fucking hot..." when he slammed into you your tits bounced perfectly on top of your chest: covered in drool and spit from previous activities. "ah! oh fuck hyunjin... i'm close! really, really close mpf!" a firm slap struck you tits as he nodded. "m'close too. just hold on baby... ah! shit!" each thrust became sloppier as you both came close to your release. "there you go y/n... fuck yeah. cum all over hyunie's cock angel." sticky white cum painted your walls — you could feel the hot fluid soaking into your womb.

as you rode down your high hyunjin continued pumping his cock inside of you — slower and slower until you were both out of breath. "mmm..." you whined. hyunjin layed on top of you still panting with his cock stuffed in your cunt. "ugh shit!" he hissed as the cold air met his now softened dick — hot in contrast to the cold air. but to your surprise you weren't done yet: hyunjin sunk down onto his knees placing another kiss on your clit before lapping your cunt slowly. " 's'sweet babygirl..." he hummed into your heat. collecting both your cum of his tongue he spat back onto your cunt dexterous finger pinching your clit. "aw fuck..." you squirmed hands flying to your boobs and massaging you nipples — hard again. the feeling of overstimulation clouded your head as he continues to eat your pretty cunt out: licking long stripes up and down your folds and shoving his tongue into your still fluttering entrance. hyunjin's hands held your thighs apart keeping them from swallowing his head completely. after he'd gotten his fill he was back on his feet leaning into your lips once more to plant a sloppy cum filled kiss onto your swollen lips.

it's safe to say you left with more than just a piercing — your panties leaking with hyunjin's spit and cum. but you also left with his number and another appointment for a piercing that you knew'd you'd be much more nervous for than this one.

guidelines and disclaimers | i'm sorry if this got lazy towards the end ! i got excited and started to rush 😵‍💫

#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ lilmashae — proofread later ! #lil-ma-shae #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #skz x reader #hyunjin smut #skz smut #hwang hyunjin smut

[ladyredmoon13]

DCXDP PROMPT

Your Father's Son

Isn't it unfortunate how no matter how hard you try to stop something, all you really do is prolong the enviable?

Danny stopped Dan from killing all his friends and family. He took the lesson Clockwork was trying to teach him to heart and believed that the worst had passed. True there were other problems. Other crises that he gave his attention to.

But even still the event at the Nasty Burger would always linger as a reminder of how truly grateful he was to have each and every one of them in his life.

So it came as a shock to him when the Nasty Burger blew up into smithereens right in front of him for the second time in his life. This time however was different.

He stood less than a block away from the blast. Nocked back, his head hit something hard and then everything was nothing but white noise as everything went black for him.

---------

This event could officially go down as the worst way Bruce found out he had a child.

He was enjoying a quiet Sunday afternoon with his family when he got a call. It was social services and what they had to say both shocked and saddened him to his very soul.

After the call ended he felt numb. He wasn’t sure how to feel at that time. So many emotions wreaked havoc in his mind that he didn’t know what to do with himself.

That was till Dick knocked on his door asking about the call. He knew then that he had to tell his kids. No matter what he did next he had to inform them of the situation.

So he sat them down, all of them listening with various degrees of surprise as he told them he had another son. They don't get a chance to comment though as Bruce continued speaking. The explanation getting worse and worse with each word spoken.

His son, Danny; he told them. Had been the only survivor of a horrific accident where he had witnessed all his family die. As if witnessing the event wasn't bad enough. He was now in a comma.

A comma he had been in for over a month! A MONTH! They had the information needed to contact him and they chose over a MONTH AFTER the event to notify him.

That wasn’t even the end of it. The only reason they called him at all was to get his consent to pull the plug on Danny. They wanted Bruce to pull a child he didn't even know he had off of life support.

The Bat Family were shocked. They were pissed. Most importantly, they wanted to see him. To save him if they could. Help wherever they can for him. Even if it ment giving him an organ.

(Tim- I might not have a pancreas anymore but I'll gladly give him a kidney if I can.)

Bruce just smiled at them. Telling them through unshed tears to pack a bag. They were going to see him. And they were going to help him. They'll be damned if they let another brother/son die that’s a promise!

-----------

So here is what I can see happening. They get to Amity Park and see Danny hooked up to all those monitors and immediately wondered in their sadness, just how could this happen?

They all go into detective mode and begin investigating. With the exception of one of them that decided to start a watch. That way if Danny woke up then he'll have someone there for him.

So the Bats begin investigating but hit walls at almost every turn. It was as if someone powerful and high up was trying to bury the incident. Make it as if it never happened in the first place.

During all this Danny finally wakes up. He remembers what happened instantly and as doctors try to calm him down the person left behind to stay with him calls everyone. They're relieved and make it back to the hospital.

Only Danny has disappeared. They don't know where he went or how. The doctors are confused and the Bat they left with him was only gone long enough to make the call and grab a coffee/snack.

The entire hospital is looking for Danny but Bruce has a feeling that they won't find him.

Meanwhile, Danny was staggering his way through alleyways trying to get back to Fenton Works. He knows his family and friends are dead. There was no denying what he saw.

But that wasn't the only thing he saw. There was no way he could of mistaken the stark white vans that had been parked just outside the NB just moments before the blast.

Somehow, in some way, the GIW was responsible for their deaths. And he was going to provide it. Mom and Dad, Jazz, Sam, and Tucker will have justice. He just needs to get back home a grab a few things first.

#dc x dp crossover #batman #danny phantom #danny fenton #damien wayne #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #batfam #coma #nasty burger #amity park

[munivrse]

times in which the rest of zerobaseone are completely done with poly!haobin + reader.

cw: fluff. one mention of a leash. somewhat suggestive. poly!haobin + reader.

breakfast time:

It’s usually hanbin who cooks in the morning (and gets up at too early of an hour to begin. shimmy-ing from between you and hao’s grip, kissing you both on the forehead before retreating into the kitchen) and the members get up at various times to eat, but when you all can, you try to eat together.

more under the cut!

you and hao usually come last, enjoying the warmth of each other before begrudgingly leaving your cozy room. hao is tugging you to the kitchen with your hand in his and when he sits, he pulls you into his lap. multiple groans and gagging noises can be heard around the kitchen. hao literally pays this no mind and continues to mind his business (which is currently occupied with wrapping his arms around your waist and letting his head rest on your back.) until hanbin brings plates over for the both of you.

Hanbin wasn’t as much of a fan of pda in front of others, but he’d still feed you both a bite of food every once in a while, which, of course, causes a fit of laughter from gyuvin and yujin, both of them copying you three, feeding eachother and making cooing noises while doing it. usually a simple “keep it up.” and a stern look from hanbin keeps them quiet. not for long though.

in the practice room:

now this goes two ways. they're either grateful you’re there or wants to throw the whole TRIO out of the room.

Theyre grateful when hanbin has been getting increasingly annoyed when the younger ones won’t pay attention, getting snippy with all of the members. as soon as hanbin balls his fists up and his brows start to furrow, there you are to save the day! you interrupt his incoming eruption with a quick,

“binnie!! you want some water? come take a break, i miss you.”

you don’t really miss him, you see him all the time COMMA BUT when he looks over at you, smiling and holding up a water bottle, all of his anger dissipates. his eyes soften and his fists unclench as he happily walks over to you. he grabs the bottle, sits on the floor between your legs, and lets you massage at his shoulders. it brings him true peace. (but its interrupted when hao sits in front of him and scolds him for not taking a break as soon as he started getting upset and how he needs to be easier on the young ones. hanbin closes his eyes in annoyance, but hes grateful for both of you.) (also, yujin, gyuvin, and jiwoong all throw you prayer hands as a thank you for saving their asses.)

they want to throw yall mfs out whenever the entire group is getting tired, energy depleting, and all you, hao, and hanbin are doing is laughing in the corner with eachother. they just do not understand how you could POSSIBLY have that much energy after a 5+ hour long practice. you assuage that by buying them desserts.

at an award show:

now, the members are so thankful you get to accompany them to their schedules, even if you aren’t a part of the group. they love when you’re around because you, at this point, are almost essential to their growing dynamic. you provide a significant amount of support to all of them, having a special relationship with each member.

with this being said, you + haobin at an award show… disastrous.

remember how i said hanbin doesn’t like pda in front of others? yeah throw that shit out the window when you’re at an award show. Hanbin just thinks you and hao are so pretty that he can’t help but be a little jealous when other people look at you both for too long. you both just look so good when you’re all done up. and you both know it too. the way you walk and act exudes confidence and hanbin straight up cannot help but want to shield you from everyone's eyes other than his own.

since he can't do that, he opts for having a hand on both of you at any given time. whether that be hands on your waists when youre standing in designated area, holding hands while you navigate through a crowd, or pressing his hands on both yours and hao’s thighs when you sit on opposite sides of him. he’s just obsessed with you two. the other members also see this and thinks its hysterical. they all giggle when one of you lets go of his hand and his eyes widen in panic when he notices either of you are talking to a person outside of their group. the rest of the group teases him.

“they’re not gonna disappear dude. seriously.”

“hanbin you gotta be hurting their hands."

"just put a leash on them at this point." (he does. often. but thats not for them to know, nor to ever find out.)

“omg hanbin look theyre talking to hyunjin!” (this one makes hanbin panic the most. hyunjin is one fine man and he definitely thinks with enough conversation, both you and hao could be swayed to leave with him tonight.)

yeah. hanbin is so in love its almost painful to watch.

#sung hanbin #zhang hao #zb1 zhang hao #zb1 #zerobaseone #zb1 smut #kpop #kpop smut #haobin #zb1 x reader #haobin x reader #i want to elaborate more on the award show part #got a 1.5k word smut written about it #lmk if yall want that 🫢

[krashlite]

Opinions on secret Soulmates? (Saw you made the millie animatic so im curious) /light hearted

(Bass boosted sigh)

Short answer, I love this duo and they’re one of my favorite toxic yaois in this fandom however comma during DL they’re definitely unethical and I’ve already gone through all the the intricacies of how DL went badly

Long answer

I think they’re fascinating because they both tend to idolize the other while both using the other as an excuse to avoid their problems and dooming the both of them in the process. When they’re around each other they’re usually only Positive and any Negativity is very jarring (especially from Grian’s perspective, who sees B as a safe person). Introducing negativity there is like being tagged when you’re on base- it shouldn’t be allowed they don’t know what to do with it

Except it’s somewhat unbalanced

BigB keeps finding himself in situations where he’s the failsafe for Grian’s poor decisions. In 3L the Blue Sword Boys were all but planning a rescue mission for Grian midway through the war. In DL obviously Grian ran away to BigB when Scar was his soulmate, then again in LimL Grian ran to him when the other two Bad Boys died

In all three of these seasons, you can argue having this connection got BigB killed! In 3L BigB was still reaching out to Grian as Scar and Bdubs cornered him (then he turned on Grian but shhh), in DL Grian killed Ren, BigB’s soulmate, and in LimL Grian got the Nosey Neighbors into SEVERAL scenarios that cost them time

Again, they idolize each other but BigB has the understanding that Grian brings danger into his life. Yet he still ultimately views Him as a positive thing. In fact, I’d even argue that the added danger is what BigB idolizes him FOR

And that’s because BigB is scared of getting into dangerous scenarios. He usually bases alone, he develops an alter ego to run from the consequences of killing Cleo, he has to psyche himself up for Any type of physical attack on someone and when he does strike he’s screaming “AAAAAAA” the whole time!

Grian doesn’t need to do that, it comes naturally to him

Then on Grian’s side of things- he’s a coward too! Except he’s constantly masking it with his thrill seeking, trying to be the scariest thing in the room not just to feel strong but so that everyone else Leaves Him Alone. In fact, Grian ALSO tends to base alone! Or at least he tries to, until some group comes along and tosses him over their shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He makes secret alliances to save his own skin (yes, alliances plural, there were Several), and is usually the first to run when trouble comes his way

And all that running is Tiring.. it’s so, so tiring

So him idolizing BigB is him idolizing that “safety” he sees BigB having. Grian has never had a direct interaction with one of BigB’s risks, nor does he have any reason to see BigB as a threat in the same way other people are “threats.” He runs off to BigB over and over again because he sees BigB as someone that can save him, maybe even the Only person that can save him

Except again, what ends up happening is Grian gets BigB killed

Also couldn’t find a way to fit it in here but iirc BigB is the first person Grian actually built a grave for and I’m so normal about that

#move ASIDE desertduo I have a new toxic yaoi #trafficshipping #I guess #that’s a solid I guess #I don’t even know where I stand on shipping in this fandom anymore #but I like them narratively and that’s what matters to me #bigbst4tz2 #grian #trafficblr

[the-final-sif]

A follow up to my last tumblr post; here's a guide to tumblr tagging for those new to the platform or unfamiliar with how tagging works here (current as of 11/2/2022).

This guide is for tumblr tags on original posts, reblogs don't follow these rules (reblogs aren't indexed in search results/in tag pages, only original posts are), and most people use tags differently on reblogs (making comments/saving stuff for later) than on original posts (getting posts to show up in search results).

Tumblr lets you have up to 30 tags on one post, of these tags, only the first 20 will show up in search results. You probably won't need more than this, but do keep it in mind if you use a lot of tags.

Tumblr tags allow you to use spaces / : ' etc basically anything but a comma.

You should use spaces between words where possible, both to allow blocking to work, and to help your post show up in more search results (discussed later). So "birdphotography" would be an incorrect tag, "bird photography" would be a correct tag.

Feel free to tag everything thoroughly, but don't tag things that are totally unrelated to your post. This is considered spam and users may block/report you over it.

Ex, if you have a photo of a Woodpecker acceptable tags would be "photography" "bird photography" "woodpecker" etc, but an unacceptable tag would be "elephant". Even if you think the woodpecker kinda looks like an elephant, you still shouldn't tag elephant. Only tag "elephant" if the post actually has an elephant, or discusses elephants.

Tumblr tags allow your work to be discovered in two ways - search results ("/search/writeblr") and tag pages ("/tagged/writeblr").

Tag pages are pages that show a feed for a specific tag, people can follow tags that have their interests. Depending on what a person has set, posts to the followed tag may show up on their dashboard like posts from blogs they follow (this can be disabled under dashboard preferences). Tag pages will only show posts that have the exact tag.

Search results are what you get when you go to the search bar and type in a search. The search function will check tags and the text of a post to find matches, and will include partial matches.

So, to use "writeblr" as an example, only posts tagged with "#writeblr" show up on the tag page. A post tagged "#not writeblr" will not show up in the tag, but will show up in search results. A post that's totally untagged but has the word "writeblr" in it, will also show up in search results for "writeblr".

Search results are a big reason why it's better to use "bird photography" rather than "birdphotography". The first tag will show up under a search for "bird" and "photography" the second tag won't show up for anything except a search for "birdphotography".

Keep in this in mind if you're posting neg or stuff that you don't want to show up in search results. If you don't want a post to show up in search results, then you'll need to make sure that both the tags and text of the post don't contain the search term.

When tagging something for a fandom/space you're new to, it's good to look around to see if you can find tags that may've been created specifically for that group. For example, writers on tumblr often use "writeblr". Other tags could also apply, but that's an existing tag that already has a fair bit of traffic that may make it easier for others to find your posts.

Good tagging can help get your post out there, but most posts get the vast majority of their notes from reblogs/being passed along people's dashboards. It can take some time for people to pick up on something. Old posts often circulate on tumblr as they're discovered, and posts can take awhile to pick up steam. Don't get discouraged if things take awhile.

Good luck, have fun, tag properly and remember that if you encounter content you don't like, then you have a blocklist & content filter in your settings. The tagging system makes both of these very effective tools for keeping your dashboard a comfortable space.

#% #tumblr culture #tumblr migration #twitter refugees #new to tumblr #tagging guide #hello / hi : ' text" #'text' #sif speaks

[daisychainsandbowties]

Mrs. Villaumbrosia cleaning out the beach house and just sending all Lilith’s notebooks to her professional address which Lilith is used to and not bothered by except there’s a graduate assistant who goes through all of it and digitizes all the data Lilith has kept since she was, what, 7? when she started really overcoming her writing difficulties. The GA compiles everything Lilith has; esp. roughly two decades of lumpfish data and emails Lilith a copy to approve for publication. Lilith’s only edit is to add Michael as a coauthor.

It starts with dozens of emails from her overeager grad student, taglines full of exclamation points, all caps, conga lines of commas ,,,,,,,LUMPFISH!!!!

Her mother sends it over in an old orange crate she found in the basement, and Lilith would have felt her hands shake if it had been her - and not Michael - who cracked the lid. If she saw how neatly her mother packed each notebook, adding wads of fabric to stop them from falling over.

Inside, also, are her father’s binoculars in their green leather case; old film and videotapes; an adult’s snorkeling mask that’s been cannibalized to fit a child’s head.

One of her old hoodies for stuffing, with a picture of a cartoon crab on the front. Tourist rubbish, given to her by a stall owner who saw her walking up off the beach in a t-shirt and shorts at the advent of a storm, shuddering from the chill and drenched in saltwater. He handed it to her, along with a can of Coca Cola he’d been saving to have with a cigarette after closing up the stall.

The notebooks are held shut with rubber bands so none of the loose pages escape. Her mother would have done this by hand.

But it’s not Lilith who finds this silent “i love you” hidden in an old crate, specially couriered from their old beach house. It’s her grad student, but the sight does at least arrest him.

(and Lilith won’t know this for another decade, but her mother was cleaning up the house to sell it. instead she puts it in Lilith's name. just… gives it to her, slots the keys into an envelope: to be delivered upon my death)

Michael describes how he shook sand out of some of the notebooks, the smell of the ocean dried into the pages when he cracked the spines again to sift through a summertime of drawings.

They’re precise, for the most part. Practical, with neatly described dimensions, notation in a scrunched-up hand because writing hurt, but even then it was impossible not to do it. She had to record what she saw underneath the water.

Sea urchins chewing through the holdfasts at the bottom of kelp, their bodies so bright with the water fleshing down past the moving canopy. Lilith, diving to the seafloor to watch them, armed with the ruler from her father’s old geometry set. Lilith, finding their fivefold symmetry, noting the length of each spine and gently prizing their tube feet from the rocks to carry one of them ashore.

And Michael is like her so he doesn’t balk when she describes slotting her penknife into its shell, little notes on how the spines still moved, and for how long. Observing them down on the sea bed and noting in a scrawl surrounded by water droplets “spines used for locomotion?”

There are drawings of her octopus friend. One, from memory, of her wrapped around Lilith’s arm, trailing her suckers up towards the elbow joint. She finds, scrunched in against this drawing, an almost indecipherable note that Michael mistook for a child’s attempt at an artist’s signature. But it’s not that - when she was eight she never dreamed that anyone would read her notes, or care as much as she did about the ocean. There, in tiny writing, she finds a note (to herself, perhaps?) that reads “me and Octi in july. it was warm.”

It’s a charter of one small stretch of coastline, every species hunted down and documented. She only dissected a few of them, just crabs and sea urchins, comb jellies and sea sponges and, once, a dead pyjama shark.

The others she only observed, diving until she was dizzy and only for as long as a breath could hold her.

Michael sends her the proof, and it’s beautiful. her coloured sketches and her simpler ones arrayed around the sections of commentary she sent him in return emails, over months and months and months. Next to that, her childish observations - crude science, but some of it astounds her. It’s almost poetry, or maybe it only seems like it, to her.

Because she lived it, lungs aching in the aching depth, watching the kelp sway and cast shadows. An octopus wrapped around her arm, following the span and clench of her fist with its little arms, watching the waves crash overhead but sitting calm in the drag of the undertow. It was the only peaceful place in the entire world, back then.

Lilith has found another one since then.

The proof copy of the book arrives festooned in bright customs stamps, stickers haphazard on the cardboard. Lilith scatters packing peanuts across her office floor when she opens it, makes a mental note to pick them up before paprika tries to eat them. The cover is what she expects, but it steals her breath. It’s the drawing of her octopus, tangled around the thinness of Lilith’s seven-year old arm. She can almost feel the water moving around her, the pressure of the suckers on her skin.

Camila finds her staring at it, coming gently into the room with a thermos of soup and half a plastic-wrapped loaf of bread under one arm. Hearing her, Lilith looks up, and there are tears in her eyes.

She blinks, slow, and Camila is there, leaning down to take Lilith's jaw in her hands, thumb swooping over her cheeks.

“It's here,” Lilith mumbles, inarticulate in the presence of her own tears.

And she can’t explain it, really.

Only that she was happy, back then. Curled up in her crab hoodie with her notebook, sketching the sea stacks that you can spot from on top of the cliffs. Her coloured pencils scattered in the sand as she switched between them, trying to capture the deep green of the kelp suffused in sunlight, the red trail of innards from the pyjama shark she hauled up onto the sand. Sea urchins and the quiet rustling of their spines. Jellyfish in their medusa-phase trailing their tentacles.

The peace of floating with them, of following fish and watching sessile creatures creep over the seabed. It was her home, her safest and most sacred place.

But she was also alone, and it was also lonely. Walking home to her unlatched window, she’d sneak down to steal crackers and cheese from the pantry, or cold cuts of ham from the refrigerator - bathed in that cold glow in her bare feet, hands covered in tiny punctures from handling sea urchins without care. She used to pour alcohol-based hand sanitizer over them in the kitchen sink, wincing, and then find the aftertaste of it on the crackers and the cheese.

“I just…” she leans into Camila's touch. “I miss being there, and I don't.”

Camila nods - and Lilith thinks she does understand, growing up poor, hungry, looking after her little brother when the money ran out mid-week.

She leans down, and Lilith rises to meet her, feeling for an instant like she’s back home, surging up towards the air and the light.

Cam kisses her, and Lilith lets her eyes flutter closed because this is it. Her second, sacred, peaceful place. And maybe she’s a fool for finding it in Camila's mouth, but Lilith is a lover of short-lived creatures.

And this one, at least, can also love her back.

#palmer station au #camilith #warrior nun #lilith the marine biologist 🥺 #well done anon... you made me so much worse #(but ty for real this was the sweetest softest prompt) #casper writes

[lucidmagic]

Modern AU BusinessWoman!Alcina x PersonalAssistant!Reader (part 1?)

Not me getting another AU idea while I need to finish Phyto's Guide and wanting to expand on my Werewolf/Assistant!Reader story for Alcina 😭😭😭

(Please, don’t steal any of this.)

But anyway. . . here's Modern!AU BusinessWoman!Alcina x PersonalAssistant!Reader that I need to get out of my head and share:

Alcina Dimitrescu is the CEO/president/top dog of some sort of business (wine? real estate? record label? IDK I don't do business people), and has been so for the past decade or so.

She's a mixture of Miranda Presley (The Devil Wears Prada) and Cat Grant (Supergirl)-- some would say an absolute demon, others would say a big ole bitch, but there's no doubt she gets her job done and done right the first time. Very high standards, very efficient.

She's also 6'5"-- 6'9" in heels, which intimidates the fuck out of her insecure male coworkers all the time.

She also goes through assistants like bubblegum, not in the sexual sense, but in the incredibly demanding and near-impossible boss way. The longest someone has lasted with Alcina was five months. The shortest = 1 1/2 months. Her standards are that high. (As you can see I drew a lot from Cat Grant because I was in the Supergirl fandom for a while don't shame me)

She is also an incredibly devoted mother to her 3 daughters, aged 12 to 16 (ages pending) and she somehow balances work-life very well. And those who can look Alcina in the eye can tell her family means the world to her and it's likely the only time she genuinely smiles and laughs when her daughters are in the office or she tells a story about them.

Not that those in the office would know-- they don't meet her gaze lest they chance being turned to stone.

(There are also rumors she's related to Countess Elizabeth Báthory or even Vlad the Impaler himself, what with her Romanian ancestry)

Anyways, she has the world in her palms, uber-rich, super fucking hot, and could get anyone and anything with a flick of her wrist. Top of the line style. Heels and eyes that could slice. And yet, in desperate need of a competent assistant that'll last more than 3 months.

On the other hand, you are quite the opposite of Miss Alcina Dimitrescu: practicality over panache for fashion, rather wear pants and loafers than skirts and heels (more for efficiency and comfort than anything else), not really into flaunting what you got. You come from a simple background, never really had money, just enough that it kept food on the table-- especially when you had a falling out with your parents.

You’re frugal as well. Your clothes are at least two years old, you dare not to shop too much for yourself, as you’ve been insecure with money before because of your parent’s kicking you out. Your phone is too many years out of date. A small one bedroom apartment. You prefer glasses over contacts because contacts are too expensive and its cheaper to just wear glasses everyday.

And yet, you’re whip smart. Efficient, stubborn, and determined to boot if you have the resources. You managed to make your way through college despite your parents not helping and you managed to land a good jig as the assistant to Nepotism Junior, one where you can afford a good, single, albeit small apartment, and you have at least a comma to your name when it comes to savings.

But it’s hard-- especially when you’ve been doing Nepotism Junior’s job for over a year during the year and half stint at the company. Long arduous hours where you are not only doing your job but also his while he does god knows what. It keeps you busy yes, but it also keeps his grubby hands and prepubescent one-liners away from you. So you can’t complain that it is all that bad.

(There is other things that may bring Alcina and the Reader first together, but I don’t want to divulge it here) It comes to a head one day when some misadventures and drunkenness leaves Nepotism Junior down for the count for an important meeting with some head honchos at the company. So you stand before them, giving them a presentation on the work he’s (read: you’ve) been doing for the past month. And frankly, it is some of your best work.

There are little hiccups, mostly just reanswering questions that some old geezers missed the first time. And Alcina has been quiet, for the most part as well, only sounding when she wants you to clarify somethings in “Nepotism Junior’s” presentation.

Somehow you don’t turn to stone when you meet her gaze at the head of table. Somehow your voice doesn’t waver like it would normally do. You know what you’re talking about.

“Give Nepotism Junior our congratulations for his work and presentation. We have a feeling we’ll be moving forward with his proposal.” She says, eyes on you the whole time. You can’t help how your mouth twitches at it.

And they leave. You go back to your desk and continue with your work, while Junior sleeps off his hangover. And that’s that.

Until it isn’t.

Because next week, you’re suddenly transferred to the Alcina Dimitrescu’s floor and you’re now her assistant. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

To say you hit the ground running would be an understatement. It’s more like dropped in the middle of the ocean and expected to get to land miles way by a deadline, no boat or raft in sight.

The first week is hell. Week two and three is practically purgatory. And week four is back down to hell (you swear Miss Dimitrescu was testing you that week and expecting you to break under the strain, however, you’re fucking stubborn like a bull and won’t be pushed around by this entitled, snobbish, egotistical--)

The money is far better than before (like nearly double) and you actually do things in your job description (and then some). And you don’t have to deal with Nepotism Junior’s remarks and alcohol breath at 10am. So frankly, it’s a pretty damn good upgrade.

Week 5 is marginally better, things start to settle. Week 6 is when you begin to get Miss Dimitrescu’s temperament and routine predicted and you start to notice things you didn’t before.

She likes her coffee with two creams and one sugar one lighter days. One cream and no sugar on harder days. On Wednesdays she’s noticeably happier and more relaxed as you’ve learned that it’s her and her girls game night. Her brow creases in a particular way when she’s reading business jargon. It furrows in a different way when she has to read horrible drivel. She likes talking to herself through problems. She likes that you know what she’s talking about and sometimes bounces ideas off of you. When she likes your ideas she hums and follows up with it. If she doesn’t she sends you on a fetch quest.

Alcina Dimitrescu also has a horrible sweet tooth, especially when she’s stressed, and there’s a secret cabinet, you learned, where she keeps her stash. You walked in on her stuffing her face with chocolate one time and was nearly impaled with a fountain pen. (You make sure to keep it well stocked after that)

She’s a stern, but predictable woman. With moods you’re slowly starting to foresee even before 9:30am, before she’s half-way through her morning latte.

By week 8, you got the hang of it and honestly, it wasn’t that bad. All you had to be was adaptable and resourceful. She can still be snippy, even unfathomably demanding, and yet you’ve also learned she tends to appreciate when you snap back (albeit in a more light hearted manner).

The first time it was a mistake, you happened to be drifting away with your thoughts about the day’s schedule and Alcina made a comment on something she received the other night. You replied with a bit of snark and the silence that followed nearly had you retch in fear. Her brow quirked. Her lips twinged. And her breath catch in her chest. She dismissed you soon after that.

(Holy shit, you nearly made the Alcina Dimitrescu laugh.... holy fucking shit.)

And to be honest, some of the verbal take downs she does to some of the other board members and peers is worthy of being quoted. You manage to stop yourself from giggling at the meetings, but you are near certain when you do Alcina Dimitrescu almost looks proud of herself. Like she did that just to see the mirth in your eyes.

The turning point of your relationship was about 2 and a half months into the new stint as her assistant. And it involved her three daughters. You’ve seen them before, in the large picture frame on Alcina’s desk and when you walk her down to her driver and hear the squeals of “Mother!” from the back of the car. But you’ve never properly met them.

There was an emergency with the board and the girls had a half-day for school so they’ll be at the building by noon. Alcina knew the meeting would be far longer than it should be, and the look (desperation? fear?) on her face told you all you needed to know. You placed a hand on her forearm, a sure, confident touch. “I’ll stay with them. You deal with this. They’ll be with me until you get done.”

Perhaps it was your tone or her lack of options, but she agreed.

Hours later, she found you and the girls in an unused conference room, where you set up a makeshift movie theater, projector showing a recently released movie, vending machines thoroughly raided, and girls sated, happy, and alive. Bela was napping on your thigh with your cardigan over her frame, Cassandra leaned against your shoulder and munched on left over snacks, while Daniela was between your legs and relaxing against your front. Cuddle bugs, you mentally called them.

(Alcina heart thawed just a bit when she snuck up on you four, too engrossed in the movie to notice her presence. The girls looked . . . happy and content, despite the situation at hand. Other assistants would have secluded them in a room and just ignored them in favor of work. But you? You didn’t make them feel like an afterthought. For that, Alcina had a profound respect for you in that regard. Plus, it’s not every day the girls are so . . . calm.)

(I’m a firm believer that a sure way to Alcina’s heart is by her daughters. Do good by her girls, you get along with them and foster a good, strong relationship . . . that’s a sure fire way to get Alcina to develop feelings for someone. Her girls come first. If a potential lover gave them the effort they deserve, well . . . Alcina would definitely take notice of them. Sue me for the softness, okay?)

Something shifted into place after that day. You two were a fairly well honed machine for the most part. Sure there were hiccups, typical of the workload, but nothing the two of you couldn’t handle. You wouldn’t say you two were peers or partners by any means, yet Alcina included you a bit more into the business side of things at times-- a second, competent opinion she would call it. Nothing game changing or revolutionary, just asking for your thoughts and perspective on some avenues.

The girls also came by the office slightly more after the impromptu movie day. Mostly to say hi and keep you up to date with school drama when their mother was wrapping up for the day. They also confided in you to some degree on some things they didn’t know how their mother would react to. Some anxieties and second thoughts typical of growing teenage girls. You, of course, keep their secrets, but informed Alcina that one of them may need some one-on-one time in the future. The single mother appreciated it.

She, dare you say, trusted you, to some extent. And for some reason that accomplishment meant a lot.

Next thing you know, it’s been nearly eight months and you’ve blown passed the last record for the longest assistant retention of Alcina Dimitrescu. The office floor has since shifted the when-you-will-be-fired pot to when-you-will-quit-or-be-promoted pot. To say they were surprised you lasted as long would be an understatement.

There are now sly smiles and inside jokes you and Alcina had. You two had a language that only you two could interpret. She would catch your eye across the ball room, where you stood off to the side to let her mingle and make more connections, and would give you a secretive, carmine smile-- a real smile, not those necessary, polite ones for business meetings. Real ones, that crinkled her eyes and deepened her laugh lines and made her gaze soft and bright all the same.

She told stories of her childhood and barely there parents and cute stories about her girls and their misadventures. You gave up some of your own, when the office was quiet and the dusk turned to night on a particularly long day.

Nine months. There’s a mishap in the dressing room and your boss needs help with one of her gowns she is trying on. You enter the space and nearly pass out with the full display of Alcina Dimitrescu’s back. She explains that the she can’t quite reach the back zipper and it takes all your might and will power not let your hands and fingers tremble. It takes a few tries, everything suddenly becoming Alcina and only Alcina, but you managed to zip her up. You still think about that dark look she gave you when you left the dressing room.

Ten months. Alcina adores the opera. She made sure that when business needed to take place in Italy, she invited you over the the centuries old opera house for your first ever live performance. You were mesmerized and were slack jawed the entire time. Alcina teased you that you looked like a goldfish throughout the night. It wasn’t until you’re in the hotel that you question why was she watching your stupid face instead of the opera.

Eleven months. She has tried to quit smoking multiple times. So far she has cut down to two a day and she’s real ecstatic about it because her daughters are. You’re happy for her and it takes you a few weeks to get used to the lack of smoke smell around her. You hate to admit this, especially with such an accomplishment, but you kinda missed it.

Twelve months. Cassandra is in the hospital, a sickness that needed such a drastic medical intervention. You taxi Alcina, Bela, and Daniella back and forth from their house to the hospital whenever they want. It breaks your heart each time to see how frail Cassandra has gotten in the near two weeks she’s been admitted. Alcina looks so tired. Exhausted. There’s a stoop to her shoulders not there months ago. She breaks down one night in your car. It’s the first time you’ve seen her cry and it shatters your heart and you desperately want to make it stop. She’s crying and apologizing, and crying and apologizing for her mask falling. You take her into your arms and hold her tight until the sobs stop raking her body. She clutches you like a lifeline. You two don’t speak about it the next day when you visit Cassandra again.

Thirteen months. She’s chatting with a beautiful woman, who is clearly flirting with your boss. She comes from a good family and is successful with several tens of millions under her belt. She’s a philanthropist and started multiple charities to help people. She’s kind and charming and down to earth. You hate her. And you hate Alcina more for not going back to her room with that woman. It’s stupid. This whole situation is stupid. Alcina can tell something is off with you but you feign exhaustion and retire to your hotel room. She makes sure to walk you to your door. You hate yourself more for letting you feelings go this far.  

Fourteen months. An asshole accuses you and Alcina of sleeping together in the most sexist and homophobic way possible. You go off on him and he looks absolutely terrified of the look in your eye. By the time Alcina comes into the room to see what the ruckus is about he looks to her like she’ll save him from you. “Go on,” You say, voice dripping with venom. “Repeat what you said.” He nearly pisses himself doing so. Surprisingly, Alcina is calm. The asshole’s desk is empty by the end of the day and everyone in the office is giving you a wide berth. For the rest of the day, Alcina is looking at you with this strange glint of being surprised, proud, and . . . turned on? No, no that’s not right. Can’t be. She probably thinks you’ve lost your mind. That’s it.    

Fifteen months.  Alcina tries to kiss you. But she’s fucking drunk. And you’re certain she’s just vulnerable, you’re her only option, and the alcohol is making her do it. (It has to be) You  push her away before anything really happens. She pouts in that adorable  way unbecoming of a woman of her station. She’s confused as to why you don’t want her like she wants you. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh crossed with a sob. “If you even wanted me for half as long as I wanted you, you would’ve have tried to kiss me sober.” It’s cruel to say,   dismissive. And it shows in her glossy eyes. You sigh and lead her to   her room, it’s the very least you can do. An aspirin and some water is   beside her when she wakes. But not you.  

Sixteen months. Things are wrong. So very wrong. Alcina is cold and so are you. Keeping things professional, you think, like it always should have been. It was a mistake to let things progress the way they did. There’s a reason why these types of relationships don’t last, you think. And it fucking hurts. Each time you enter the office and let the unsaid words hang in the air. Sometimes you find yourself glancing after her, like a lovesick puppy and you hate yourself more for it.

Sixteen months and ten days. You hand in your two weeks notice.

Let me know what you think! I had to write this out because it was killing me! Hope you enjoyed!

PART 2

PART 3

#part 2? #could leave it there but idk what you guys think? #considering it was 6am before I went to bed when writing this it’s pretty good #my fic #fic ideas #fanfic ideas #alcina dimitriscu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #my fic ideas #re8 #re8 alcina dimitrescu #re8 lady dimitrescu #lucidmagic #lucidmagic fics #lady alcina dimitrescu #re8 alcina #alcina x female reader

[rpclefairy]

updated tutorial on trimming posts on mobile

reply formatter mobile edition:

i’ve been trying to figure out a way to adjust the roleplay formatter to be used on mobile but unfortunately tumblr just does not render blog themes well on mobile browsers (my guess is to force people to use the app but i digress)

so i made a mobile friendly version with carrd. the only differences are the box size option and the night mode toggle, which the carrd version doesn’t have.

if you don’t use either of these you can use the carrd version on desktop as well, everything else is the same. for the purpose of this tutorial i’ll be using the carrd version as it is optimized for mobile screens.

if you can consider tipping my ko-fi or using my carrd referral code ( DPY34V1H ) to help me keep hosting the formatter ♡

this is a very easy level tutorial

even if you’re not comfortable with html!

this post may be long because of the screencaps, but the method itself is only a handful of clicks and it shouldn’t take you more than a minute.

this method technically works on any browser, but it works best on firefox as it is the only browser i’ve tested that keeps all formatting (bold, italics, color text, etc).

i encourage you to install firefox on your phone to at least cut replies, you could technically use the tumblr app to write and format your reply once you get the code of the trimmed reblog.

what you will need:

a mobile browser (can’t stress this enough i strongly suggest firefox, specially if you don’t want to have to manually add your partner’s formatting. it will make your life easier)

the mobile friendly reply formatter.

that’s it.

tutorial:

step one:

first thing you’re going to do is copy this line of text:

?redirect_to=%2Fdashboard%3Frestore%3D1&avoid_redirect=1

time saving tip! depending on your device you may have a “pin” or “lock” option in your clipboard, use it so you can keep using it without looking for this post and copying it all over again.

if your device does not have a pin / lock option, you can create shortcuts assigning a short word or symbol and when you type it the saved line of text will be suggested.

here is a tutorial for android and ios.

step two:

save the post you want to trim as a draft.

you can do this on the app.

step three:

open your draft on your mobile browser. click to edit the address bar.

the url of this post will look like this : https://www.tumblr.com/edit/USERNAME/POSTNUMBER

now delete the part with your username and one of the brackets (either the first one or the last one, it doesn’t matter which one, just don’t leave 2 brackets.

then add “?redirect_to=%2Fdashboard%3Frestore%3D1&avoid_redirect=1" (without the quotes) at the end of the link, then click on the link and load the page

thanks to this anon who figured the link trick out💗

step four:

select everything and copy

then click on the x to remove the previous reblogs.

step five:

now go to the reply formatter here, click on the paste button and you’ll get a pop window.

there tap your screen until you get the options “paste” and “paste as plain text”. use the regular “paste” option.

step six:

select the blockquote text you want to delete trimming the reply like you would on desktop with editable reblogs.

and that’s it ! you’re done.

from here you can either write and format everything on the formatter

or you can copy the html code from trimming the post and paste it on your trimmed draft on the app

ir order to do that, on step 4 add anything to the body of the post so you can save the post (it can be just a comma or a keymash)

then write + format everything on the app. just remember to switch the editor to html on the app!

bonus tip + tutorial: uploading icons

save your icons folder to your phone / google drive (and then save to your phone the icon you want to use)

on your browser (NOT THE APP) create a new post

upload your icon

switch the editor from rich text to html

copy everything, paste it in the source code of the formatter.

you’re done!

#indie rp #rp resources #rp help #dearindies #rpc #rph #roleplay resources #tutorial #rp tutorial

[frownyalfred]

So I've been reading through bloodletting and I'm very curious about how the Creator's Style works

You use it to give the translation hover option whenever characters speak in Mando'a and I'll be honest, I had no clue that was even an option or how to even go about doing that for my own fics

Sorry if this is a stupid question, but do you have a resource for how to use Creator's Style like that?

Hi anon! I'm copy and pasting a post I did with instructions and comments on how I use this function (below the cut). I hope it helps!

I had an awesome commenter (the lovely @notquiteaghost) suggest a CSS script, since the initial hover text translations I used didn't work on mobile.

Here's the link to the instructions: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30290274

Fair warning, it took me a little bit to get the hang of it. If you're like me and need a little hand-holding, here's how I implement the script:

Copy the code from the CSS section into a new work skin (or the one you're currently using)

Save that skin and make sure to enable it in the work you're going to implement hover text on

Open up your chapter or fic and switch to "HTML" instead of "Rich Text"

When you find the word or phrase you want to have hover text, paste this:

Next, replace the Text to hover over section with whatever your original word or phrase was -- this is the only place that word should appear, and it should still have whatever punctuation you need in it

Replace the text for the tooltip section with whatever your translation or hover text is

Finally, triple check that there's a space between the final section and the rest of your sentence or paragraph. If there isn't a space, sometimes the script pushes the translation onto the next word or shoves them together and italicizes them

Here's what this looks like in my HTML view:

Here's what that looks like in my rich text view:

and here's what the final product looks like:

You should be able to hover over those underlined sections on mobile or desktop and see the translation you inputted. If you don't see it, there might be an issue with how you set up the individual tooltip, or the workskin itself.

My other tips for using this:

Keep a copy of the basic HTML tooltip script to copy and paste into your work as you edit it

Test your hover text in draft view on ao3. You should be able to see it.

Using italics can make the HTML part a little bit harder but it's not impossible

Keep an eye out for your punctuation! Sometimes the formatting can throw your commas and periods around without warning

Try to keep any translations or comments to one sentence max, otherwise the hover text bubble can be cut off in mobile view or stretch the view strangely

If you're translating many words (like I am in my current fic) it's easier to copy and paste a HTML tooltip that's complete but shorter so it doesn't throw off every single line (like copying a one-word translation instead of the original tooltip template)

Hope this helps! I really love using this for my fics and I'm so grateful to @notquiteaghost and everyone else in my comments who offered solutions for my hover text issues.

Here's my current fic with the hover text if anyone wants to see how I'm using it throughout the chapters.

#asks #anon #bloodletting #bloodletting my beloved #fic #fic writing #html #ao3 #ao3 tips #archive of our own #hovertext #ao3 tutorial

[frozenmoonshine]

Head Canon: Tokyo Manji School - TR boys as school teachers and staff.

Native language/Literature: CHIFUYU

He has OCD for spelling and punctuation. Forget one dash or a comma in your essay, and he'll lower your grade by two. Misspell something, and congrats, you failed the subject. Forces his students to read romance novels, but otherwise a nice teacher.

Foreign language 1: RAN

Thinks he's cool, but is actually a shitty teacher, tries to make up for it with charisma. Kids love him because he never gives homework, or any kind of actual work, really. If you're serious about learning a foreign language, just transfer to another class, or school, even better.

Foreign language 2: IZANA

Cannot transfer knowledge to save his life! Even tho he's super skilled himself, unlike Ran. Psychotic and scary, will scream at the kids for wrong answers, or throw pens and chalk at them if they talk during lectures. It's a miracle how he even passed the psychiatric check in order to be accepted to work with children.

Homeroom: MITSUYA

Best and kindest HR teacher ever! Period. Will resolve any student dispute with a smile, but everyone knows he can be scary if pissed off, so they tend to be on their best behavior. He passionately hates parent-teacher conferences tho, especially with those obnoxious, unreasonable parents! That's where the former delinquent in him itches to come to the surface!

Math: KISAKI

He's actually pretty good at his job, which is explanainig shit and transferring knowledge. His classes may be boring, there's lot of homework, and he doesn't care about his students in the slightest, so he's far from students' favorite, but his lectures are useful.

Physics: SMILEY

He enjoys lab experiments a bit too much, and stuff explodes or goes wrong a bit too often, but he just laughs it off, even if his hair is on fire, or he accidentally almost electrocuted himself with a Tesla coil. Ends up in the infirmary at least twice a week.

Chemistry: SANZU

Smells and licks lab substances to determine what they are, regardless of how unsafe it is. Can guess the exact formula of any mixture just by looking at it. Speaks very little and in quiet voice which makes him weird and borderline creepy. But he's an ok teacher. However, if you leave a mess in his lab, or don't wash and clean the lab utensils properly after use, prepare to meet your doom.

Biology: BAJI

Will bring animals to classroom! Especially their young. Strongly opposed to dissection, insectariums, and any other sort of animal cruelty! Will teach his students to protect the environment and to love animals. Sweetheart teacher no. 1, everyone loves him.

Sex Ed.: MIKEY

Will have the most disinterested, indifferent face ever while talking about STDs and stuff. Uses 48 positions as textbook. Recommended porn to his students on multiple occasions, until the headmaster heard of it, and then he stopped doing it officially, but will secretly deal porn goods to his male students when they ask him. He's super professional with female students tho, always answering any question they have seriously, and even flashing his trademark cute smile. You'd almost think he's two different people.

P.E.: DRAKEN

Ok, this lovable mofo takes sports a bit too seriously, his classes feel like military drills! Everyone's absolutely exhausted and barely breathing afterwards. He gives tough love, but he's kind to no end, so kids actually love him.

Music: SOUTH

You think music classes are supposed to be fun and easy?! Think again if your teacher is Terano Minami-sensei! And you better sing along in those singing practices, cause if he hears you slacking off, you might as well just say your prayers, cause you won't be very vivo by the end of the class!

Philosophy: WAKASA

Chill. Lowkey depressed. Doesn't grade a single paper, like, ever. Doesn't take attendance. Talks about anything and everything with his students, even his personal life, but always has a valuable point to make at the end of the story. Students confide in him, too, and go to him for life advice, which makes him nervous, but he lowkey enjoys the fact they rely on him.

Religion: TAIJU

PRAY, MOTHERFUCKERS!!! Ya better take your piety seriously and show your devotion, OR ELSE!

Art: KAZUTORA

Eccentric art teacher, the stereotype. Kind and gentle with his students tho, focuses more on nurturing their creativity than teaching them the art theories and history. All straight female students crush on him hard. He almost quit his job tho, when one asked him to pose naked for his painting.

History: INUPI

Petty bitch. If you don't know what that one historical figure he simps for ate for breakfast every day, or when the birthday of the dog of another historical figure that he simps for was, he'll give you an F. But good luck with figuring out which ones he doesn't simp for, or what random facts he doesn't think are of crucial importance!

Economy/Sociology/Politics: KOKO

Probably the most normal, balanced teacher in the school. He can be pretty strict, and will give an absolute shit ton of assignments (that he'll later regret deeply, when he has to pull all-nighters to grade), but he's actually really good at teaching and really knows what he's talking about, so his lectures are kinda interesting, even tho it's a boring subject. Some students like him, some don't, but everyone respects him, at least.

Headmaster: SHINICHIRO

Kind of an easygoing dork, will play with the kids in the schoolyard during breaks, or after classes, but rules with an iron fist when need be. It is extemely rare tho, cause everyone respects him for his kind and friendly nature.

School nurse: ANGRY

Caring and protective to a smothering level. Will insist you stay in the infirmary even for a simple paper cut. Has all sorts of colorful, funny band-aids, will let you choose whichever you like, as if it's a sticker. Tired of his brother constantly popping up with new injuries, tho.

School janitor: HANMA

School superstar! Will pretend to be on the stage, using the floor mop as a microphone, and do a weird, cringy dance down the school corridor while wiping it. Students LOVE him! Need a smoke? You just have to ask, he shares generously! Skipping a lecture? Hanma's got your back! Plotting a revenge on your bullies? You already know who to count on. All he asks in return is for you to spill the tea, so he literally has every single piece of nasty info on both teachers and students alike! Need to blackmail someone? Yeah, you got it.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers headcanons #matsuno chifuyu #haitani ran #kurokawa izana #mitsuya takashi #kisaki tetta #kawata twins #smiley and angry #sanzu haruchiyo #baji keisuke #mikey tokyo revengers #sano manjiro #draken #ryuguji ken #terano minami #south tokyo revengers #akashi takeomi #shiba taiju #hanemiya kazutora #inui seishu #inupi #kokonoi hajime #koko tokyo revengers #sano shinichiro #hanma shuji #headcanon #tokyo manji revengers #tokyo manji school

[morganski-19]

With A Comma After Dearest Part 4

part 1, part 3

Vines wrap around Robin so tight she can barely breathe, trapping her wrists up against the walls and cutting off circulation. Her vision spots as she sees the ax Steve was holding fly out of his grip, Nancy’s gun not long after. Their faces start to fade as the vines squeeze tighter, tighter. 

Suddenly, her vines loosen and she wiggles free. Gasping for breath, her vision returns as her mind clears the haze. She’s free, she’s still alive. 

Robin stands up, preparing to look around and see her friends standing next to her, but they’re not. They’re still gasping for breath on the walls, tangled in the swarming vines. She looks around, looking in the darkness for the axe, the gun, anything. She can’t find it. Vines move around covering the ground, starting to wrap around her feet. She steps over them, not daring to be captured again. 

Nancy is closer. She rushes over to her and starts to pry the vines off with her hands. It’s not enough. With every inch she gets, she loses it and more. They just keep coming, pulling her arms away as they pull her back against the wall. 

She couldn’t do anything. She could never do anything to save them, to save herself. As the vines completely wrap her body again, everything goes black.

Robin wakes up in a cold sweat, gasping for breath. Her hands tremble as they rise to wipe the sweat off her brow. She reaches for the phone, dialing the number fast.  The phone rings, and rings, and just keeps ringing. 

“Come on, please pick up,” she whispers into the dark. “You can’t be asleep, please pick up.”

She gets his voicemail and tries again, and again. Nothing. Slamming the phone back into the receiver, she lies back in her bed, bringing her knees tight against her chest. Tears form in her eyes as she tries to blink them away, but they still fall. It wasn’t even her worst one, but they still died. They always still die. 

His voice is normally enough to calm her heart, clear her mind of the lies that the nightmare feeds her. It’s stupid to anyone else that hasn’t gone through something like this, but in those few moments, few minutes after a nightmare, it’s real. Everything she saw was real, they died to her, no matter if they’re living or not. It takes time to break through the wall of reality and delusion, especially when the delusions were so close to becoming reality. 

Reaching out to her bedside lamp, she clicks it on, letting the light illuminate through her dark room. With a deep breath, she focuses on it, seeing the light instead of the dark, the real instead of the fake. The color of her walls, the poster on her wall, the notes on her nightstand. Three things that are real, tangible, unchanging. 

The notes on her nightstand, Nancy’s number. She shoots up from the ball she became, reaching out and filtering through the papers, trying to find the small line of numbers that would help the fear finally fade away. To hear a voice that would soothe the thoughts and her beating hearts. She finds it, nine numbers written in Nancy’s soft handwriting. 

Dialing the numbers fast, the line rings, and keeps ringing. 

“Please, pick up,” she pleads, tears still streaming from her eyes. 

It’s late, she knows. Nancy’s not the only one in the house, she might not be the one to pick up. Robin hopes that the rest of the Wheelers are heavy sleepers, that the ringing of the phone won’t wake them up. But it’s her last resort. She needs to hear her voice, needs to know she’s alive. 

“Hello,” Nancy groggily says through the phone. 

“Nancy,” Robin laughs through tears. “You picked up.”

Rustling comes through the phone. “Robin, is that you?”

“Yeah, sorry to wake you. I just needed to-. Needed to know-,” her lips start to tremble, the words being overtaken by tears. 

“Hey, that’s ok. I’m here. I’m ok. So are you, ok. We’re both ok, We’re both alive.”

A shaky sigh of relief flows out of Robin’s chest. “We are.” She means to say it like a statement, a fact, but it ends up coming out as a question.

“Yes, we are. You’re alive, in your room, I’m guessing. Miles away from the lines and not in the upside down. And me, I’m in my room. Safe and sound, no monsters anywhere in sight, and my guns safely hidden away in my room. Nothing’s coming to get me, nothing's coming to get you.”

Nancy’s words wrap around her like a warm hug, calming her nerves as she sinks back into her bed. She pulls her covers up, feeling their comfort and wishing it was Nancy who was here to wrap around her instead. 

“Yeah, I’m safe, you’re safe. Steve’s probably safe wherever he is cause he didn’t pick up the phone.” 

“Was he there, in your dream?”

Robin nods even though Nancy can’t see it. “Yeah, you were too. We were back in the Creel house, the other Creel house. I couldn’t save you, I tried,” her voice hitches again, the tears daring to come back. 

“Hey, we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. We can just talk about something else.”

“That would be nice.”

Nancy hums. “What do you and Steve talk about when you call him?”

“Anything really. I’ll complain about school, he’ll complain about work or the kids. Just stuff to fill the space.”

“Oh, ok. Um. The Byers are going back to California next week. They’re finishing the rest of the school year there before moving back in the summer. It’d be too much for them to switch mid-school year and they’ve already missed like three weeks of school already. So Mike’s pretty upset about it. He hasn’t been himself since they moved and it's been nice seeing him and Will hang out again. I think that’s the part that really sucked for him, even if he wouldn’t admit it. He and El would write letters but he wanted to talk to Will on the phone, but it was always busy.”

“That sucks,” Robin says, already feeling so much calmer. 

Nancy sighs. “Yeah, it is. He was missing his best friend. I know that feeling.”

“I’ve never really had a best friend before Steve, or at least on the level we are now. I can’t imagine losing that, even if they were just across the country.”

“Yeah.” Nancy pauses, taking a deep breath. “It sucks, losing that.”

Robin’s eyes widened. “Oh shit, sorry we can talk about something else. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No, you didn’t. Promise. How did you and Steve become such good friends, I never asked.”

“Oh, well. We worked together at Scoops, you knew that. And then one day, Dustin came home from camp, he intercepted a Russian translation, I helped translate it, we thought it would be a good idea to investigate it, looking back, terrible idea, and then me and Steve got captured trying to get the kids to escape and then got tortured. Yada, yada more trauma ensuing, you get the gist. Now I’m trauma bonded to that asshole for life, which is probably the best thing to come out of all of this because he isn’t actually an asshole, he’s a huge dork once you get to know him and I couldn’t imagine life without him. Which sounds totally corny, but it’s true.”

“I never knew you guys went through all of that, I’m sorry.”

Robin rolls over, fingers playing with the phone cord. “Not like you could do anything about it. It happened, we’ll forever be affected by it, but we made it out with our lives and all of our limbs and shit. And I got a best friend out of it and all of the minions that came with him so, what can you do.”

Nancy laughs through the line. Robin’s heart soars at the sound, face filling with heat. She wants to hear it again, and again. Wants to make Nancy laugh as much as possible.

“Yeah, what can you do, I guess. How are you doing now?”

Robin lets out a long breath. “Good, a lot better now, thank you.”

“It’s what I’m here for. Do you want me to keep talking?”

She glances at the clock, three a.m. As much as she wants to keep talking to Nancy, it’s late, they have school tomorrow. She should at least try to sleep tonight, or at least let Nancy go so she can.

“No, I think I’m good now. You can hang up if you want.”

Nancy yawns. “I’m fine staying up if you need me to.”

“No, you sound tired. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, ok. Probably in note form but I’m considering that talking.”

She laughs again, making Robin’s heart flutter. “Ok. Goodnight, Robin. At least try to fall back asleep again, you can always call again if you need it.”

“I will. Bye, Nance.”

Robin rolls onto her back again, taking the pillow next to her and covering her face, letting out a soft scream. This can’t be happening, she refuses to believe that it’s happening. 

. . . 

The lovely Nancy

I just wanted to thank you for last night. I know I woke you up and all but it really meant a lot to me that you picked up. The dream I had, well it wasn’t the worst I’ve ever had but, it was bad.  It just sucks, a lot, and I wish I could stop them. 

What’s it like going through all of this four times? I can barely manage going through two, and they were so different from each other that each brought a new horror that just piled on top of the last. I can’t imagine what it’s like having four years worth of memories feeding nightmares. I’m honestly surprised that you can even sleep at all. 

Sorry to be such a downer in this, it’s just all I’ve been able to think about. It’s like my mind is plagued with things I so desperately want to get rid of, but it keeps coming back. I haven’t been able to sleep for more than four hours in weeks, and even then that’s a stretch. I lie awake at night begging for sleep to come even though I’ll just wake up in a few hours anyway. 

I just sometimes wish that I never got into any of this at all. I could have avoided it, could have shut down Steve and Dustin’s crazy plan to translate a Russian code and debunk some big conspiracy. I could have not gone into the elevator or run out with the kids leaving Steve to be tortured alone. Even though I wouldn’t have left him all by himself to do that alone. As bad as that was, I can’t imagine going through it completely alone, and I already wasn’t there for most of his torture. 

I guess what I’m trying to say is, do you ever look back at your life and wish you did things differently? If you were given the chance to use a time machine, you would go back and stop yourself from getting into this mess. 

Your Midnight caller,

Robin

Nancy often forgets how jarring the first time was for her, how routine it’s almost become. A new year comes, somehow something will go wrong, and the next thing she knows she shooting down monsters again. People get lost, people stay alive, and she moves on even if there’s still a foot stuck in the mud twenty feet behind her. 

It’s hard to think that four years ago, Nancy was a different person, she had a different life. She’s changed so much without even noticing, she can’t even tell if it was a good or a bad change. Good probably, she’s stronger, more resilient, more sure of herself. There are people in her life that she’s happy to know but people she was devastated to lose. But the question remains, would she go back to change it all if she could?

If she’s being honest with herself, she’s too afraid of the answer to that question than she is of any monster she’s ever faced. 

. . . 

The lovely Robin,

How are you so good at coming up with these greetings? I feel like I’m just copying yours from the previous letters and matching them to whatever you write. I have to find some better ways to start these out, yours are so much more creative than mine. 

I remember what it was like the first time I went through all of this. The nightmares were worse than anything I’ve ever experienced. And you’re right, each time is just a little bit different, adding to the pile of things that come back, no matter how hard you try to get them not to. 

After a while, you get used to it. It sucks to say it, but it’s true. You get used to living off of little sleep and dealing with the nightmares. Finding the best ways to cope with the nightmares and ways that you can fall asleep again. I form a little box in my mind where the worst things go, lock them up so they can’t come back in a nightmare. It’s not a foolproof method, or the healthiest thing but it’s not like we could get a therapist that actually gives a shit about our wellbeing, but it works. 

I’m sorry that it’s been so rough for you, this time has been a little harder for me too. Other than you, I’ve kind of lost my main support system. Jonathan won’t speak to me and Steve and I are still weird. The only other person I can talk to about this is Mike, and I don’t want to bother him with that. So I guess I’m just happy to have you. I hope you’re happy to have me too.

Always willing to answer your call,

Nancy

Robin can’t help the smirk that finds its way to her face as she reads the last words. It’s nice to know that she’s appreciated and that she has another friend. Someone else to call when she needs it. Especially when the one person she normally calls is too passed out to even pick up, or he wasn’t even home. 

Which she still hasn’t asked him about it because she was running late out of the school because she was reading Nancy’s letter so they didn’t make it out before the rest of the seniors who clogged the parking lot. So he’s already a little pissed, at everyone else mostly and only very slightly at her, and she doesn’t want to poke the bear. She will be asking about it though, the barren expanse of the Family Video store is her favorite place for a trapped interrogation.

She just has to get through the after-school rush. The kids and their moms picking up some random cartoon for the family movie night, some seniors willing to blow off their homework and watch movies instead, the creepy guy sending a shiver down her spine every time she catches him staring. All normal and routine, and just like she thought, empty after 4 o’clock. 

“So,” she starts while rewinding a large pile of returns, “busy night last night.”

He shrugs while refilling the candy display. “Not really I guess.”

“Oh, just thought you might be, considering you didn’t pick up my call.”

“You called last night,” he says with guilt filling his voice. “When?”

“Shit, I’m actually not sure. It was late, I know that. Around two, I guess.”

“Fuck,” he exhales, leaning on the table, face falling into his hands. “I’m so sorry, Rob. Eddie was freaking out about something last night so I went over there to help calm him down. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

Robin winces. “Wait, shit. Is he ok?”

“Yeah, yeah he’s fine. Just a bad nightmare and a really bad panic attack. But he’s fine now.”

“Good. And don’t worry about last night, I called Nancy last night and she helped. So it was good.”

He looks at her. “You two have really become friends now, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, we have. That’s not going to be a problem is it, right? Cause you seemed like it was ok before when I talked about it now but I know you two have history. But that’s history that you’re over now, at least from what you’ve told me, and she’s moved on from it now so I was hoping that we could all be friends without it being too awkward. Even though now that I’m saying that out loud it will probably always be a little awkward, but I can deal with a little awkward because I really like being friends with Nancy. She’s like so easy to talk to and I feel weirdly close to her for some reason, probably the trauma, but it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. And I kind of really like it so please say that you’re not going to invoke some weird friendship code that says I can’t be friends with your ex.”

“I don’t think that’s a friendship code thing. Do we even have a friendship code thing?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know, isn’t that just a friend thing? Like bro code and shit.”

Steve tilts his head. “Well bro code kinda sucks depending on who you’re friends with so I don’t recommend it. But whatever. It’s fine that you’re friends with my ex, I have no problem with it. And I hope the weirdness is gone but it could still be awkward for a little while.”

“Well that’s a relief,” she slumps back into the table. “I would feel guilty about seeing her behind your back.”

He snorts. “That sounds like you’re dating.” Robin turns sharply as her cheeks heat up, busier herself with rewinding another tape. “Wait, Rob. You’re not dating, are you?”

“No, we’re not. Just friends, best friends even. Maybe.” She walks around the counter and grabs the return cart, running away from the gaze he’s boring into her skull. 

“Rob, what’s going on?” he follows her. 

She shoves the tapes back onto the shelves. “Nothing’s going on because nothing can be going on. She’s straight and I’m not and I just have to live with that and that’s ok. Because even if I did ever get feelings for her, which is a huge if because it will never happen, it will just be another hopeless crush on a straight girl who will never like me back in a million years. And even though I think Nancy’s not like the other girls that the mear breath of me being a lesbian around them would send them into some weird frenzy on how they think everything I’ve ever done would have been me hitting on them, which is ridiculous because I suck at flirting, and I’ll end up ousted and alone. And this friendship with Nancy actually means something for once, like us but different, and I can’t lose that to some stupid feelings that I don’t even have.”

She’s lying to herself and she knows it, he knows it. But she can’t acknowledge the bubbling feeling in her chest that happens every time she reads a letter and only amplifies every time she hears her voice. It can’t happen, she won’t let it happen. 

Steve crosses his arms, squinting at her. “I don’t believe you, but I’m going to choose to leave this alone. Only because I asked you to do the same for me. But the moment we figure our shit out, I better be the first one to hear it.”

“Same here,” she says with a breath of relief. 

. . . 

“Nancy,” someone whispers into the dark, shaking Nancy awake. “Nancy, wake up.”

She blinks the sleep out of her eyes, seeing the blurry vision of someone next to her. “Mike?”

“You were screaming, I didn’t want you to wake the rest up.”

Reaching up to rub her eyes, she feels the trails of dry tears. “Was it bad, my screaming?” She sits up, clicking on her bedside lamp. 

She tries to think about what her dream is about, but it’s all a blur. So many memories clashing and morphing in her mind, it could have been anything. But she won’t remember it, not all of it at least. It will go back to the box in her mind that locks all of her fears away when she’s awake, only to haunt her again in the night, no matter how hard she tries to stop it. 

“Not really,” he shrugs. “I was just up anyway so I heard it.”

“Why were you up?”

He shrugs. “Thinking I guess. I was talking to Lucas yesterday, and Dustin. They were telling me more about what happened here, what really happened I mean. I heard a good bit from what El saw in her visions, but it wasn’t all of it. And then Lucas was telling me how Max got her casts off last week and it just made me think. What if they all came here for spring break, I might have been able to help more then.”

“You helped plenty, Mike. You had your job of helping Jonathan and Will, getting El out of that place once she got her powers back. We needed you in California, I needed you in California. You have no idea how happy I was that you weren’t here for this.”

“But I could have helped.”

“You also could have gotten hurt. We’ve already done so many things that we shouldn’t have, but I shouldn’t have let you get as close to the danger as you have. Even though I know you wouldn’t have listened anyway. I would never forgive myself if I let you get hurt, so California was the best place you could have been.”

Mike looks at her, ready to call her out. “And what about you? What happens if I let you get hurt? If I’m not listening to you, there’s no way you’re listening to me either.”

“That’s not something you need to worry about.”

“But it should be. I know we always haven’t been the greatest to each other. But I love you and I don’t want anything to happen to you. So what if we just look out for each other, really look out for each other I mean. An actual promise, that we actually keep. Deal.”

She laughs. “Ok, deal.”

The Wonderful Nancy,

I’m glad I’m here for you too. Going through this shit alone must suck, I couldn’t imagine doing it. It also sucks that we can’t see anyone really because they shut the lab down (thank god what the fuck were they doing here in the first place) but that was the only place we could have really gone to without breaking our NDAs. I honestly would like someone to talk to other than us, but I’m not sure how much I’ll trust those government shitheads. 

However, my question remains unanswered. I guess I kind of asked it rhetorically (is that how you spell it Jesus), but I am genuinely curious about it. Since you’ve been in it since the beginning after all. You really don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to, of course. 

From an outsider's perspective, anyone would think that you would go back and stay out of it, do something different that would save you from this mess. But when I really think about it, there is so much of my life that I wouldn’t change. If it weren’t for all of this, I wouldn’t have ever gotten to know Steve and he wouldn’t have become my best friend. I wouldn’t have gotten close to the kids and created this whole little family. And I wouldn’t have met you. So I guess for me, weirdly, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not if I got to get to know you all over again.

Your friend, hopefully forever, 

Robin

(P.S. I usually eat lunch in the library if you want to come sit with me. You don’t have to, but you can if you want.)

Nancy closes the letter, biting her lips while the words sit in her mind. She opens it up again, pressing it flat against the table, and reads the last line again. 

Not if I got to know you all over again.

So simple, yet so deep. This connection, the feeling she has for Robin goes deeper. She thought it was only her that felt this way, but maybe Robin felt it too. The force that is pulling them together like magnets that Nancy can’t explain. There’s no real explanation for it, at least she can’t find one. 

When thinking about it, she thinks that she and Robin could have been friends, they had shared a few classes in the past, and it wouldn’t have been unheard of. But they still were in two different circles, Nancy with the journalists and Robin with the band kids. Connected, but not as much. And with all of the other people that she’s met, fell in love with, grown with, it’s hard to think about giving that up at all. 

When the lunch bell rings, Nancy makes her way to the library, spying on Robin sitting at the corner table, scribbling something on a notepad. 

“Hey,” she whispers, pulling out her chair and sitting down.

Robin smiles at her. Nancy never really noticed it too much, but she has a nice smile. “Hi. How’s your day going?”

Nancy shrugs. “Didn’t get much sleep last night so not great. This is nice though, it’s quiet. I didn’t think you could eat lunch in the library.”

“You can if you bribe the librarians by helping them put books back and scrub the gum off of underneath the tables,” she whispers across the table like it’s a secret. 

“Do you do that?” Nancy giggles. 

Robin nods while taking a bit of her sandwich, “Beats eating lunch with the Jocks who will throw food in your hair.”

��Yeah,” she winces. “They do that sometimes. Oh,” Nancy pulls out her next note from her bag, “I thought I’d give this to you now, instead of putting it in your locker.”

“Thanks.” Robin takes it and opens it up. 

“Oh, you don’t have to read it now.”

“But if I read it now, I can respond and give it to you at the end of lunch,” Robin counters, giving her a smug look. She puts down her food and takes the letter in both hands, putting her full attention on the page. 

Nancy sighs back into her chair, trying to sound annoyed. If anything, she can’t help but watch Robin read it. The small smile that she has while doing it, the way her nose scrunches up when she silently laughs at something Nancy wrote. It captivates her, draws her in. 

She never noticed how pretty Robin was before. Not like in a weird way, but in general. How the freckles dot across her nose and the way her eyeliner is smudged just right to brighten her eyes. If Robin looked up right now, she thought she could get lost in them, the cool blue pulling her in deeper so she couldn’t swim out. Her heart is beating so loud and she doesn’t even know why, but she can’t stop it, she can’t stop looking. 

Not when Robin finishes the letter, and rereads it again. It only makes her heart swell more when she does that, showing the care that she puts in when reading the letters. Craftin a response in her head that matches what Nancy wrote. She watches Robin’s movements and she starts to write out her response, taking a few seconds to think before writing the greeting. And then the words just flow out, only pausing for a moment before streaming out again. Like a deep breath before continuing with a ramble. She writes like she talks, open and flowing, only stopping if you’re cruel enough to say something. 

She has to break her gaze when Robin folds up the letter, the soft crisp of the paper creasing bringing her back to the ground. Looking down at her lunch, not even touched, she picks up her apple slice and takes a bite, trying to make it look like she was doing something. Afraid to see how Robin would react if she saw what Nancy was really just staring. 

“Here,” Robin says while handing the letter to Nancy. “Now you really don’t have to read this now, I would have just forgotten to until like a week from now if I didn’t do it immediately.”

“Do you do that a lot?” she asks while slipping the notebook into her folder she now realized is dedicated to only Robin.

If she noticed it, she didn’t say anything. “Sometimes. I tend to just stuff things into my bag and it gets sucked into the void never to be seen again. Until I get super frustrated with all of the shit that is at the bottom and I end up dumping it on my bed and then I’ll find it and remember it again.”

Nancy laughs, a real laugh. A much bigger laugh than is possibly needed for the joke, but she can’t help it. “Well, I’m glad you did it now then, that way you won’t forget.”

“I don’t know, I’m not sure I’ll forget about things when it comes to you.”

It’s there again, the simple words that make Nancy’s breath catch in her throat. “I don’t think I would either,” she finds herself saying, even though she’s not sure where it came from. 

They continue to make small talk while eating their lunch and Nancy’s just lost in it. She could listen to Robin talk forever, never interrupting her. Just letting her voice fill Nancy’s ear until they don’t work anymore. It’s so easy to listen to, and she’s so passionate. About everything really, movies, music, her friends, Nancy. Everything just draws her in, making time stop and trap her in this little bubble, where it’s only her and Robin. Where nothing else matters. 

Well until that bubble pops with the bell, meaning that she has to leave. Say goodbye to Robin for now and go to her next class, even though she knows that her mind will still be stuck in this moment. Trying to figure out why she feels this way, why she’s left with this feeling of wanting more. It doesn’t make any sense, like a puzzle with half the pieces missing. Nancy’s good a puzzles when she really puts her mind to it, so maybe if she thinks about it enough, she can solve this one. 

She has a feeling that even if she doesn’t try, her mind will always find its way back to thinking about Robin.

. . . 

My Forever Friend Robin,

I definitely think we’re forever friends at this point. There’s just something about us that feels right, like it was supposed to happen all along. I really think that we were just meant to be friends, best friends even. If you’re ready to call us that. 

But to answer your question, it’s hard to think about my life without the upside down. It’s weird to say that, but it’s true. Which sucks because it’s taken so much from me, but it also lead me to all of you. If I had never been involved, I wouldn’t have dated Jonathan become closer to Mike, or met you. So I think that I would choose the same, despite what I’ve lost. 

I think I say this partially because I know that it would have never happened differently for me. It’s horrible to think that, but it’s true. There was no way that I wouldn’t have gone to that party back then or acted differently than I did. It was like I was fated to end up here. 

If I were to go back with all of the knowledge I have now, I would probably have done things differently. But that’s only because I knew what to do to get the things I have now. I would know about you and bring you into my friend group, even though you probably would have hated me at that point. I would though. And maybe I would help Steve grow into the person he is now so you two could still be friends. Maybe I would date Jonathan again knowing that it could change differently if he never moved, but that’s only assuming that the upside down didn’t exist at all and Will never got kidnapped either. So I don’t even know if I would go through that again. 

But overall, I would do it all over again because I’m a person I’m more proud of. 

Grateful to have been fated to meet you,

Nancy

. . . 

My best friend Nancy,

Uh duh, of course I’m ok with the best friend title. I can have more than one best friend and you have certainly deserved that place. I mean, I only call so many people in the middle of the night while sobbing about a nightmare of events that happened in an alternate dimension. So I guess that means we were already best friends without knowing it. 

Thanks for eating lunch with me today. I liked having someone to sit with. Usually, I would sit with some people in band, but I like being alone most of the time now. Give me some time to think and be by myself where I’m not freaking out. And sometimes I can take a nap, which is needed more times than I would like to admit. 

But anyway, I hope that if we could go back in time with all of our memories, we would become friends. I think we would. It’s kinda nice to think that we were sort of fated to meet, but also horrifying because we didn’t really have a choice to be a part of all of this. You more than me, but I don’t regret my choices, and I hope you don’t either. 

Your best friend, 

Robin

(Yes I had to say it twice.)

#ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #ronance fic #nightmares #getting together #friends to lovers #slow burn #part 4 #with a comma after dearest fic

[pancakeke]

I wrote a bunch of paragraphs about nothing in particular again so here it is under a readmore so it doesn't take up space.

like 8 years ago when people used tumblr more via desktop browser than its app, I put a 3rd party metric tracker in my desktop theme that logged how people were referred to my blog. it also captured what pages of my blog people viewed.

at one point during this time I reblogged a piece of pixel art from a japanese artist. they came to my blog through their activity page, and then searched my blog in a couple different ways for the terms "ドット" and "ドット絵" ("dot" and "dot art", as in pixel art). I checked those search urls myself to see if they found anything but there were no results because I never used those terms or specifically tagged pixel art in any other way.

ever since then I've made an effort to tag all pixel art I reblog with the term "pixel art". that artist was probably hoping to find more art to check out and it bums me out that my tagging system wasn't thorough enough to help.

this is why I have my current specific tag system lol. it keeps evolving but having the ability to find stuff you're into without jumping through hoops is really handy. (the site-wide post and tag searches return sooo much bullshit. it's a slog sifting through thr noise whenever I use those to fill my queue due to the sheer amount of manga caps, polls, liveblogs, personal posts, and fics posted without readmores...)

if only the way to view all tags you've ever used still worked. I think it caps at 500 or 1000 now and is also chronological so the first 500 or whatever tags you ever used show up in the list. then there's a hard stop and it does not update as you delete posts or use that mass tag editor to remove certain tags for your blog entirely.

I went through my used tag list earlier this year to unify certain tags and remove tags that I stopped using in favor for other ones, but I only got like 400 tagged terms down the list. maybe downloading my blog data would show more. the trick I mentioned uses your desktop blog's archive page. the tags are in its code so you can use "inspect element" to view it. I remember scrolling a lot to load a bunch of posts on the page but cant remember if this was required or I just did it to see if I could access more tags.

it's formatted all fucked and hard to manage but you can copy and paste the long chunk of tags into one cell of a spreadsheet and then use Data options to split them into columns by commas (or whatever punctuation separates them, I forget). a wide list is a huge pain to view so from there you can click on a cell containing data, click ctrl+a to highlight all data in thr row, copy, then paste special as "transposed" to turn the copied row 90° so it pastes as a column. the spreadsheet will wide as fuck from the hundreds of columns so honestly its easier to paste the transposed data into a new tab and delete the original vs clicking in the column to the left of your transposed data and then pressing ctrl+ shift+right arrow to select all rows to the right, then deleting the extra rows.

if you're in Excel you may have to use the "delete rows" option from the "home" tab and then save the sheet using "file > save" (do NOT save via the save button on the upper left corner or ctrl+s). this returns the sheet to a manageable size for scrolling (plus reduces its file size). this piece of shit software usually retains the sheet width/length even after you delete hundreds of columns/rows unless you use this trick of deleting specifically via home tab + saving specifically through the save menu.

I got a round number of tags when I did this which makes me think there's a cutoff.

[the-francakes]

20 questions for fic writers!

Thanks for the tag @schmem14 - sorry this took me so long!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

28: 27 finished and 1 WIP

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

350,018

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Harry Potter. sometimes si consider others but ideas never hit me like they do for hp

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Five Times Draco Malfoy Accidentally Apparated into Hermione Granger's Bed… And the One Time He Meant To (Dramione) - every time draco masturbates, he ends up in hermiones bed 2. An Overly Considerate Friend (Jegulus) - james confronts regulus about spying on their quidditch practices and ends up liplocked instead 3. Both (Hermione/Fred/George) - the hermione and the twins fuck or die DVP PWP 4. I WANNA SEE SOME ARSE (nottpott) - theo is on an island vaction and somehow sharing a bed with harry who has an amazing arse 5. The (Third) Worst Year (drarry) - draco has one year to kiss his true love, harry potter, or turn into a dragon... so he picks dragon like a dumb ass

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes.I do my best to because i think the converation is important and im grateful so i want readers to know. i havent lately because i get overwhelemed and im on a hiatus but yeah i try to

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

You & Lily - regulus is so tired of being used by james, he gets his mark and only tells james after they have sex to really fuck james up. then years later he returns to james to apologize by promising to save harry and its open ended but like... also cannon compliant

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

all of them are happy endings tbh... while i like writing angst, i dont like writing unhappy endings or dead dove sort of things. so pretty much any of my fics will leave you happy

8. Do you get hate on fics?

nah not really. i think its cause im in happy rare pairs world. every now and then i get the off the wall comment like 'telling somone to come is SO overdone' and im like cool bye.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

all the smut. mostly vanilla-ish? i like to change up positions or what the sexual act is, but i dont cross into anything kink mostly cause i just write what i know/like/is comfortable.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

nope. probably never will either.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that i know of...

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes! The Quidditch Pitch Incident is in Russian Five Times Draco Malfoy Accidentally Apparated into Hermione Granger's Bed is in Chinese

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No! But im open to it with the right person

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

I dont really have one. It always changes for me. I like trying a new ship so i think the majority of my fics are different ships.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

honestly, Im starting to think Echoes wont be finished. i havent had the want to write it all year and i dont think the first parts are really my best writing. so part of me might even delete and rewrite it if i start getting the vibes to pursue it again.

16. What are your writing strengths?

characterization. i love fanfic because i can use the base of what we know and grow from the tiny details to make fully developed ones. its hard for me to read some fics that the characterization doesnt match what i know from the books without explanation. like its hard for me to see hermione as a sugar baby for money and loves being doted on because i dontt hink that matches her from the books but like if you can explain she gets her strength and independence from manipulating men then im like yes okay im on board.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

im awful with commas. everyone else loves them but i forget them so much grammarly is always yelling at me.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

nah. i've been living in italy for a month now and the only words i know are ciao and allora LOL - if i want it i ask someone to translate for me

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter and twilight at the same time back in 2004 ish

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

I cant pick just one so here are my faves that are not my most popular because of the ships but probably some of my best writing and get really good comments. Locals Only (draco/blaise/theo) A Saving People Problem (draco/james potter snr) The Quidditch Pitch Incident (ginny/blaise) A Good Night for Whimsy and Love (ron/luna) tis the damn season (Pansy's version) (pansy/ron) Maid of Honor for a Day, Best Friend for Life (susan/blaise)

tagging whoever sees this and also @crazybutgood @vukovich @holygnocchi @phdmama @sailtomarina

#Dramione #Jegulus #hp fanfiction #harry potter #draco malfoy

[doxypsychlean]

Bid my blood to run

Alicent Hightower x Criston Cole

Warnings: none....I lied, there is one. It's short asfff x(

Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and bite your nose off!

English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.

A/N: Didn't think I had it in me to write something so sweet and sappy. You learn something new every day, amirite fellas? Welp...Cheers!

He'd never had much luck with women. He always fell first and always fell hard. Then he'd get his heart broken as they got bored and moved on.

"Well? What do you think of my...proposal?"

He felt uneasy. The knight remembered what had happened the last time he fell for a woman of her position. But he couldn't refuse. Not that he even wanted to. She was his Queen. The woman he'd sworn to protect from all there was out there, from anyone that would wish to inflict harm upon her.

"Your Grace..." Ser Criston sighed.

"I ask no more of you than what you're willing to give me." Alicent said calmly, her face now inches away from his.

The knight gripped the handle of his sword so tightly, his knuckles turned white. His face turned to the side, lips pouting as he contemplated his next move.

"Your Grace, I..." Criston wasn't sure how she'd take his words "I can't make the same mistake twice."

"If you do it twice, then it'd no longer a mistake."

She had a point. Fuck it. What did he have to lose? His honor? He'd made a fool out of himself in front of people before. His life? The woman in front of him was the only reason he was still breathing. She was the one that had talked him out of taking his own life so many years ago.

He looked at her. She was breathtaking. Auburn locks of wavy hair framed her oval face. Dark brown eyes looking up at him, waiting for an answer.

"You know I would never do what she did to you, do you not?" Alicent said as she placed her hand on his face. Criston leaned into her touch.

Oh, he knew it. She was a woman of her word. Honorable. Gracious. Thoughtful. Passionate. Alluring. Bewitching.

"I pledged my sword to you once, your Grace..." Cole said, his hands reaching out to cup her face in return. "Tonight, I pledge my heart and body. To you. Do with them as you please. Break them. Toss them into the dirt. I'm completely at your mercy."

"And I at yours." She returned, hands snaking around his neck. "I wouldn't dare break your heart, Criston. Ever. I'd sooner drop dead than commit such a vile, treasonous act."

"Treasonous?" He questioned "To whom?"

"My own heart."

His eyes trailed down to her lips, then back up. Alicent smiled softly.

"Break me. If not my heart, then my body. That much I can handle. Save me from the nothing I've become..."

#alicent x criston #alicent hightower #ser criston cole #oneshot #hotd fanfic #dance of dragons #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfic #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #lucerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #accepting requests #requests open

[void-galaxy-shenanigans]

just had a Thought™¹. ✨Reader discretion is advised✨, AKA read at your own risk and hate will be blocked.

¹ based on conversations with my ex-Mormon friends & Christian friends, & my attempts to understand and reassure them

~~~~

¿what if suffering is the worst sin? ¿what if building a life that brings you joy is the ticket to heaven?

~~~~

in more detail:

¿what if causing suffering of any kind unto others is the worst sin? ¿what if letting your suffering hurt other people is the worst sin?

¿what if telling everyone they’re sinned and doomed to hell is enacting the worst sin? ¿what if telling children they are unholy and sinners is the worst sin? ¿what if “holy” wars are the worst sin?

¿what if being “kind” and “charitable” only for status or out of fear of eternal punishment is a sin?

or even.... ¿what if forcing yourself to eat something you don’t want to is a sin? ¿what if submitting to “the grind” is a sin? ¿what if complacency is a sin?

~~

in reverse, ¿what if joy is the ticket to heaven? ¿what if going on that trip you wanna go on is the ticket to heaven? ¿what if being kind just to be kind & for no personal self-gain is the ticket to heaven?

¿what if telling people they are sacred and holy and loved (truly loved, for who they are & not in spite of it) by God is the ticket to heaven? ¿what if telling children that (because Jesus died for their sins) they are protected and holy just for being alive?

¿what if knowledge, and wielding it wisely is the ticket to heaven? ¿what if the lesson of Adam and Eve was to remind us of what was sacrificed to bring knowledge to us, making knowledge itself holy and of God Himself?

¿what if the lesson of Lucifer the Devil is not to fear him but to love his complexity and embrace him as God’s son? ¿what if God told the tale of his fallen son to remind us all to love our children dearly? ¿what if God was sharing his deepest regret— that he did not love his son as deeply as Lucifer needed?

¿what if the tale of Abraham and Isaac is to remind us that your children are just as important as God? ¿to show us that loving and protecting your loved ones is, in fact, to love God Himself?

¿what if kindly alerting the waiter/waitress or server that something is amiss (you received the wrong food, or it’s cold when it should be warm, or the cooks / preparers forgot to add or remove an ingredient, or etc.) is a ticket to heaven? ¿what if revolution and standing up for what you believe in is a ticket to heaven? ¿what if using your voice is a ticket to heaven? ¿what if using your privilege to protect others is a ticket to heaven?

¿what if self-love and self-respect are a ticket to heaven?

¿what if love and respect and unity are holy and lead to heaven, but hate and division and ignorance and complacency lead to hell?

¿what if the reason it’s a staircase to heaven is because you have to evolve and heal and grow as a person, to resist and re-evaluate instinctual feelings (and written languages, and spoken languages, and thoughts) before acting upon them, and that takes a lot of work?

¿what is the whole point is to show God you are willing to work on yourself and build connection with others before you are allowed into his home and around his children (angels, beloved pets, and other deceased souls)?

¿what if it’s a highway to hell because you can stay complacent and blind and are easily manipulated (highway hypnosis), and because you can hurt animals and people easily, and because you’re on autopilot and instinct and thoughtless power saving mode, all of which are easy and require very little from you?

¿what if it’s a highway to hell because you can crash blindly through wilderness, through homes, through living beings, and hardly notice a bump in the road? ¿what if mindlessness and carelessness are the fuel (gas, battery power, etc.) to drive to hell?

~~~

¿Do you hear me? ¿Do you understand?

(Also semi seriously, ¿should I start a branch of Christianity / a church based around this concept, with its own commandments that are freeing and gentle and loving?)

~~~

~Nico (he/they)

#christianity #deconstruction #deconstructing christianity #sins #sinning #heaven #hell #reevaluation #~Nico #healing from trauma #healing

[whatmakesagod]

What I learned writing 500k in sixteen months

Writing daily is a lot easier to do if you are kind to yourself and do not set impossible goals. Some people can do NaNoWriMo every month because their lifestyles permit it. Others can't because of work, responsibilities, health, etc. Set a reasonable goal to start and adjust according to your lifestyle and that's the bare minimum to hit. If it's 50 words, it's 50 words. If it's a 1000, it's a 1000. It's subject to change based on your circumstances.

Accept that you are going to have to edit. I see a lot of people who cannot stand editing; some of them even hope that if their outline is perfect, then they won't have to do a developmental edit and can just make a clean first draft and it's good to go. I'm sorry to say, but if you want to be traditionally published, you're going to have to get in there and be willing to kill your darlings. If you are going to self-pub, it's still probably a good idea to be willing to kill your darlings.

This is pretty linked to number 2: the more you write, the more you nurture a gut instinct. You start to be able to see that something isn't working. Listen to your gut. Do not ignore it. If it's telling you 'this is wrong,' either keep going and accept that you might have a huge rewrite ahead of you or go back and figure out what's wrong and either edit it or save it for later.

I love commas and medium length sentences too much. That's one of my biggest hurdles. I have to actively think about sentence length, sentence structures, and sentence starters. The more you do it, the more naturally it will come to you, but, I'll be real, it's really freaking annoying when you used to be able to write 45 words a minute and now you're chugging along at 15 words a minute because you're too busy going 'this is the third long sentence with a semi-colon in a row!!! NOOOO!'

Learn to walk away. This is a very hard lesson for writers to learn, but it's incredibly important. Sometimes you are not ready for this project right now or it's not ready for you. Maybe it needs more time to marinate, maybe you're not actually interested in it and it was just a shiny idea to avoid working on the real WIP that haunts you and is staring at you as you desperately try to do anything besides write it, or maybe it's just not an idea you can write exactly how you want to write it. It's good and crucial to figure out when a project is going to teach you something and push through anyways, but it's also good to learn when that project isn't viable.

Reading is so important, but not just reading to read. I really recommend getting involved in writing communities and offering to be a beta reader or CP (critique partner) and honing your critiquing skills. Reddit has a BetaReaders, DestructiveReaders, and PubTips subs, there's also Critique Circle and Ladies Who Critique. I've heard stories of people finding betas and CPs here on Tumblr and on Twitter.

Write a variety of things. This is not going to work for every single person, but it's going to work for a lot of people. If you hit a wall and you find that you are repeating yourself, set the project aside and work on something else. Fanfic, a short story, move from romance to a horror, instead of that epic fantasy, write a contemporary novel about a lamp salesman with an absurdist bent. Many authors do this. Crop rotation is one of the ways to keep your creative well full and will let you look at the main work with a more objective eye as well as help you keep bringing new ideas to the table. If the MC keeps getting trapped and keeps getting out of it by being clever, there's a good possibility it might feel repetitive and your reader isn't going to be engaged anymore.

Find people who will be honest with you when a work isn't cutting it. As artists, it's so hard to share our work and our friends and family don't want to hurt our feelings, so you might have to go outside of them for good feedback (if they read in your genre and age category and have similar interests, they might be good for feedback). The truth is, we might now what our weaknesses are, but it's hard for us to know if we're successful in combating them without fresh eyes. We all know a lot about our stories whereas someone who isn't us doesn't. That might feel obvious, but there's a lot of authors who try to publish and nobody has ever seen their work so they don't know why they aren't getting requests for fulls. Open yourself up to the experience of being critiqued.

Recognize when you are avoiding writing. Maybe I'm the only person that is struggling with this, but it hit me only a few days ago exactly what things I do when I am avoiding writing. I play 2048 or Othello online. I'm a creature of habit so maybe it's more specific than it is for others, but by seeing that and recognizing it, I now let myself play one round and if I'm still not writing, I go do something else. If the weather is good, I go for a walk. If it's not, I might exercise inside or turn on some Two Steps from Hell and play a few rounds of a game that lets me zone out. I might even turn to YouTube or Netflix and find either a documentary, a testimonial, or a piece of media from a cultural that isn't mine. I do what I can to either put me in the writing headspace or I do research for my writing. Not every hour of the day has to be productive, but my set-aside writing time needs to be productive to my writing. If another project wants to be started, I will give in and write it so at least something has been written.

I don't just write a story to know what a story is, I also write a story to know what it isn't. This results in me rewriting my chapter one five times until I get to chapter two. This does not work for everyone and can be an active hinderance to perfectionists or people who get stuck in revision loops, but it works for me. I might start a story in space and realize it's not working and then set it in Canada 1949 and then realize that isn't working and put it in a secondary world with elves and then cut the elves. To someone who isn't me, it might look like madness, but I learn my characters' backstories, internal wounds, the way they think, about their families, their backgrounds, etc. very quickly and they solidify in a way that makes it easier for me to channel their voice. And it can change as I move pieces about, of course, and I have to be open to that, but if I know that MC has PTSD because of XYZ before I'm too far in, then I can start working with it ASAP. As such, some writers' advice is just not for me and that's OK.

#writing #writing life #my posts #writblr #writing advice #writers of tumblr