#there's more to this but it requires some *Audience Participation* if you know what I mean

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Omg your little doodles for your asks are so sweet 🥺 do you take requests?

Well, you heard him!

#Poorly Drawn MDZS #MDZS #wei wuxian #ask #“Hey OP is this your daily upload?” yes but also no #there's more to this but it requires some *Audience Participation* if you know what I mean #Maybe theres a reason i moved this one to Saturday...when I'm around all day #joking aside I...don't really know? I'm not *completely* opposed but also...blog title withstanding I don't think ppl would be interested #my first priority is definitely continuing with the episode recap comics #with a few jokes + bonus comics + gratitude posts thrown in the mix #Sorry this (and a few other asks) has been marinating in my inbox for a while; I'm holding on to them for the best comedic timing #I appreciate them all!!

[patricia-taxxon]

I want to address what’s being said about me regarding my behavior as a teenager, because some of it is true. However, more of it is greatly distorted, and some of it is false. I won’t be reproducing the video that was made about me, the creator has acknowledged the misinformation present in it & has unlisted it, willingly ceding ground for me to give my own testimony. Some of it will require me to admit to things I am still ashamed of, some of it will require me to revisit a traumatic time in my life that I have mostly blocked out. The short version is that I believe I was being groomed at the same time and in the same place as many of the people who came out against me, and my ultimate goal is to find solidarity with those people and begin the healing process. 

When I was 18, and just beginning to accrue an audience, I created a discord server. For a lot of external reasons, mainly spending my entire life up until this point being shuttled around different special ed schools, this ended up being the first real social circle I ever had. It represented the first positive attention I ever received from strangers. It’s a time where I made a lot of mistakes, it’s a time where I was gravely vulnerable. In all honesty, I was too young to manage a community of any kind, I was hot off the back of being desensitized in my adolescence by unrestricted access to early 2010s internet. I knew well enough to create special NSFW rooms, and was advised later to create further division by requiring users to self-apply for a special NSFW role to access those rooms This extra layer meant that the rooms wouldn’t even show up for people who didn’t have the role, which led to some believing they didn’t exist. 

However, I did not intuitively understand the “meaning” of sexual content, I didn’t understand the baggage that came with it. I used cropped fetish porn as emotes and indiscriminately showed the source to anyone who asked, sometimes outside of the NSFW rooms, because I found niche fetishes to be amusing, and since it was “funny” and not “sexy” it didn’t have to mean anything. The worst consequence of this happened when I was first formulating the ideas for my video about youtuber Rags, and I discovered that his youtube avatar was cropped from a NSFW image he had commissioned of his feral dog fursona. I sent this image to just about anyone who seemed interested, and this included a then 13 year old. I’m going to apologize just like I did when this first came out, but I will not be pressured as I was then into assuming predatory intent in myself. I’m not making excuses when I say that I had been a legal adult for under a year and thought of it as just an interaction between two teenagers, a kind of interaction I had with many of my friends (and some adults) before I turned 18. It was a misunderstanding, *and* I hurt you, and I’m deeply deeply sorry. 

There were some moderators besides myself, two were teenagers around my age, early adopters of the server who I felt I’d become friends with. One was a woman in her late twenties, who I won’t name simply because I’m not in the business of offloading my misery onto other people, but she knows who she is. She contacted me with a shower of attention & adoration, she left positive reviews for my albums when she noticed I was upset at their critical reception, she oversaw me as I posted my nudes in that server and later on my main twitter account. She encouraged this behavior in myself and others and participated in it too.

I want to make this clear, the bulk of the allegations against me boil down to punishing me for failing to surmise I was being exploited by the first social group I ever had. I jerked off in voice chats. I remember the day I started, I was surrounded by people older than me who were encouraging me to post my first nude pic in the self-nsfw channel, and I had to get hard for them first. I then considered this normal and did it often. At one point a 15 year old entered the room while I was doing it, and I went quiet until she left. I reconvened with this 15 year old recently, and she told me she only remembers being promptly told to leave. The claim that I “regularly jerked off in voice chat with minors” as if it were an orchestrated and habitual activity is an outright falsehood.  

I remember posting my nudes on twitter in a fevered haze of dissociation and dysphoria after being goaded by other users in my discord server. I remember doing it again and again, so that it could maybe eventually feel normal. I was 18, going on 19. I had twenty to thirty thousand subscribers, I was hot off the heels of being given 150 bucks for making thirty minutes of music for a much bigger youtuber. There are others who were in that server who were similarly exploited, and I am not here to contradict those testimonies, but I was uniquely denied the ability to understand what had happened to me as grooming, because I was technically of age and I had the very beginnings of a youtube audience. However, 20k subs didn’t give me more power than someone over ten years my senior. 

I was groomed, and just as I was beginning to understand what happened to me, the shame threatening to overtake me completely, I was slapped with the supposed news that I was the sole perpetrator of the entire situation that traumatized me so, that what I thought of as my first friend group all remembered me as a loathsome creep. The apology I wrote in abject panic was dissected and used as a cudgel against me in police-interrogation fashion, so I became afraid to say anything. A year and a half later, I made a post saying that I had been “groomed by a portion of my audience” and this immediately provoked a youtube video callout. I feel as if I have been beaten into silence and complicity, unable to form thoughts of my own regarding my experience. I am terrified, right now, writing this story that I firmly believe no one on earth will buy, because I have come to routinely doubt my own testimony.

Some accusations being made of me are so foreign that I have trouble piecing together what it could be referring to. I commissioned a NSFW size difference piece from dramamine, one where my lover is 11 feet tall, and I was pre transition at the time so I wanted a flat chest to help me feel feminine in my current body. It was wrongly tagged as “cub” (furry child porn) on E621, which I vocally protested at the time. This is the only thing I could point to as evidence for the claim that I commissioned cub porn of myself. I do not know how to convey the feeling of being flooded by accusations that require me to ponder what it could even be referring to, or to see my accuser insist that she’s receiving dozens of new horrible scoops on me without being able to see exactly what it is or what happened. I’m open to apologizing personally to anyone I ended up hurting in my adolescence who reaches out to me, I was a victim of grooming let off into a public space with a few thousand followers after all, but I’m not apologizing on behalf of people who might have heard something bad about me.

I am going to restate, my accuser has *of her own volition* unlisted the offending video & understands the misinformation she spread, there is nothing to gain from seeking her out and letting her know your opinion on the situation. I waited until this agreement was reached to make any statement at all for this exact reason. 

I am staying offline for about a day after posting this, I am under a lot of pressure, I am very tired.

#bookmark

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hi, thank you for taking the time to answer these!

It seems like all successful authors have to be on social media these days. I want to publish my book under a pen name so nobody knows it’s me. How do I succeed at author social media while also being anonymous?

Maintaining Author Anonymity on Social Media

It really depends on what you want to write and how you want to publish. Either way, a pen name isn't a 100% guarantee of anonymity, so that's something to consider before publishing. Whether you self-publish or traditionally publish, you're still conducting business, which requires the involvement of your real name on paper. Some of those documents will be available to the public, so it isn't usually difficult to figure out the real identity behind a pen name.

If you want to traditionally publish, you should keep in mind that the publisher is making a big financial investment in your book, so they want it to sell well so they can make back their investment and make a profit. Part of that may be asking you to do things like book signings, guest appearances, or having visibility on social media. Some publishers won't work with authors who want to be completely invisible, especially if they feel your book would benefit from that kind of visibility in marketing. So, if you pursue traditional publishing, it's something you would want to talk about with your agent once you land one so they can keep that in mind when they look for publishers.

If you want to self-publish, you don't have to worry as much about being visible. There are many who feel that authors do better when they are visible to their readers, but it's certainly not a requirement. You can still have a solid, meaningful social media presence without posting videos or photos of your face, or without giving away intimate details about who you are. You can find a balance with sharing photos and details that feel personal without revealing anything that blows your cover.

Anonymous but "Intimate" Photo Examples:

All of these images give the reader a glimpse into your world and who you are without giving them a full window into your personal life.

If you caption the coloring photo as, "Coloring with the little ones today..." All the reader knows is there are kids in your life, but are they kids, grandkids, neighbors, students, friends' kids? Who knows?

Anonymous but "Intimate" Detail Example:

-- Spent today out shopping with the family. We had lunch at one of our favorite eateries, then went to see a movie. Afterward, we took a walk along the water and came home to play board games. Great day!

With or without an accompanying "semi-anonymous" photo, the above paragraph gives the reader a glimpse into your day without giving too much away. Spent the day with family... your immediate family? Extended family? Found family? No specification of which eatery, which movie, what body of water, or which board games, but it still paints a picture.

Engagement Matters, Too

And remember, for indie authors especially, engagement with your audience is important. Replying to comments, participating in tag games, "signal boosting"/sharing/reblogging posts, posting polls/QOtD/challenges, etc. are all ways you can engage without having to be visible.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[mswyrr]

THG is the only pop culture story I can think of where the heroes (Katniss and Peeta) are disabled* and their happy ending doesn't require that they be "fixed" in order to be happy. IMO, part of why there's such controversy over the ending of the books in particular is that Collins wrote the pov of Katniss as a woman who is content and loves her life and her spouse and kids, but she's still very clearly mentally ill (and arguably somewhere on the spectrum). She has coping strategies and her life is good, but she will never be "normal" and Collins doesn't let the audience think that.

The one part, where she talks about how she handles the darker days, when she's really struggling, never fails to move me:

I’ll tell them that on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything because I’m afraid it could be taken away. That’s when I make a list in my head of every act of goodness I’ve seen someone do. It’s like a game. Repetitive. Even a little tedious after more than twenty years. But there are much worse games to play. (Mockingjay, 332)

It's hard to express how important that is to me. Someone doesn't have to be "normal" to lead a good life. Someone doesn't have to be "normal" to have a life worth living, to give and receive love in good ways.

And, so, when people look at the villain in the prequel and say "he's just crazy, that's why he's evil. He's just a psycho, he's nuts," it's so out of place, it's so dissonant to me -- I think that's absolutely not the kind of story Collins would tell, given her prior handling of disability.

I don't think she's suddenly turned into a Victorian writer where you can know someone is evil because they're disabled because the writer thinks disabled people are warped creatures incapable of doing anything but bringing evil into the world. And the way people assert this, as if it's the pure, wholesome, most politically advanced reading of the prequel, is just - it doesn't compute for me. I don't understand how people get there.

I studied (for years) the treatment of mentally ill people in the mid-20th Century US. It was horrific. US forced sterilization and eugenics laws actually inspired N/azi Germany's forced sterilization, eugenics, and mass murder campaigns against mentally ill and disabled people. Nice, normal people have repeatedly convinced themselves that torturing and killing disabled people is how they will "purify" their society - they've done great evil in the name of rooting out the people evil is supposedly located within biologically.

Is it so hard to believe that people with normal brains do evil? Is it truly so impossible? Even in a story where the Games are about how a lot of people, the majority of whom are neurotypical, can be brought, via media presentation and entertainment techniques, into taking pleasure in their participation in evil? It's so hard to fathom that evil can't simply be located in someone being "psycho"?

Ballad already has Dr Gaul, who is evil and clearly neurodivergent. If Snow is too then the message starts to get kind of worrying? IMO, Coriolanus is more effective as a kind of “everyman” as an 18 year old - an example of the incentive structures (rewards and punishments) and propaganda that motivate “normal” people to go along. Of course, he will later become something far worse than that, someone who takes control of this thing, who uses his intimate knowledge of it and his insight into other “normal” people to make it worse, but that’s not the part of his life we see the most of. The part the book focuses on provides what I consider a powerful depiction of how ordinary people are acculturated into corrupt societies.

It's fiction so there's all kinds of interpretations that the text can support and exploring those is good. It's a stronger text because it has ambiguities and can be interpreted more than one way. But the intensity of some of the rhetoric is an unsettling contrast to what I've thought, for over a decade, Collins' themes and pov are as a writer.

*Shame on the films for removing Peeta's physical disability, though; in the books he lost a leg during their first Games

#thg meta #my meta #i'm gonna try to leave it at this now - i don't want to keep letting this bother me so much #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #maybe Coriolanus Snow is the evil neurotypical representation we need lol #i'm going to unsubscribe from the reddit i think #that is where i am seeing a lot of this #and it's just not worth it

[hearvex]

can i ask for this Juan guy lore :v i saw his tweet when it had like 3k and thought it cant be good but i dont know anything about him. its upsetting to see 12k likes tho like why are people fighting against human fights tho

oh this is a long one, who's Juan Guarnizo, the streamer who has recently tweeted against the french union in regards of the qsmp.

juan guarnizo is a colombian streamer (who now lives in mexico with his wife). he's participated in Tortillaland, a roleplaying minecraft series, as a wizard of sorts. He then decided to create a "spin-off" series (more cinematic/pre-planned) called "El Dios de Todo" (The God of Everything, his character's catchphrase). So he partnered with Euphonia, a popular Minecraft Studio that has created games such as SquidCraft, Dedsafio, SawMinecraftGames, and more.

He announced he was looking for several roleplayers for this project, and people started complaining on twitter because some of the requirements were pretty much insane.

Some include, full availability for 6 hours a day everyday for an entire month, good quality microphone, not being able to livestream the content, just record it to be used after the proyect was released, knowing how to rhyme/rap/sing/imitate voices and animals/general voice acting talent and being able to improv. All of that for the price of 0$. The payment? The enriching experience of being part of this unpayed proyect with your favorite content creator.

Well turns out people still didn't like this idea, justifiably so, and continued to call him out on twitter. His initial response was as follows:

(Hello, I understand that you know little about the project so I'll explain it to you: The God of Everything is a series based on a story that we will tell in the most cinematic way possible, therefore it is only possible to have one pov and not 40. Participants will be able to take advantage of the series on different social media platforms but not live. How much benefit they decide to get out of it is up to each person. The 6 hours a day thing is insurance, because there will most likely be days where your participation is half an hour and that's it. Also making it clear that professionals such as voice actors who will also be in the series will be paid for their work. We are creating an experience never seen before for me, the roleplayers and the audience, whoever wants and can experience it will enjoy it very much. It is something that we are putting all our heart and desire into for those who want to see the story. Communities that are not going to see it at all, at least don't fill it with your toxicity or bad vibes.)

Basically excusing himself by "I'm doing good by allowing you to join, please don't let toxicity ruin this". Which was still off, because professional voice actors would be getting payed but somehow the rest wouldn't, weird overall. Several POVs would be recorded but only one would be able to broadcast it, Juan. "we'll pay you with exposure" ahh deal

I haven't followed him since this happened, some claim he then did pay the actors, but even if that were the case, that would've never happened if it weren't for people calling out his exploitative bs. Which is exactly what's happened with the qsmp, only this time it's not a cancellation on twitter dot com, but a whole entire french union.

What I think their fans don't understand is that this is not a mob campaign against their faves, it's about protecting the working class from the privileged who refuse to pay them correctly or sometimes never at all, granting them rights to defend themselves when cases like these arise. This goes for people who claim Juan learned from his mistake, he clearly didn't if his immediate reaction to the union was:

(It's good that they formed a union, so they all hold hands together and fuck off)

So either he's forgotten his "lesson", or he only payed them (if that even happened) because he got caught and wanted to prevent a future cancelation).

#h ache #ask h #long ass explanation #hope this adds context!

[mafaldaknows]

I just don't understand what his team was thinking when they agreed to this stunt. Exactly how does he benefit from it other then being seen as an uber straight grade-A douchebag? Is this really the image his team wants for Timmy? There's just too much talent and potential there to be shamming with a Kartrashian/Jenner.

Hello, Anon:

It’s absolutely mind-boggling what having more money than God can buy in the United States of America these days: New lips, new hips, and a sparkling new image with a shiny new man who apparently doesn’t even need to be present to win.

The KarJenner PR team has been hard at work for the last few months for a classy reboot of baby sister Kylie, complete with a romance with the internet’s boyfriend, style influencer and fashion icon Timothée Chalamet, who also happens to be the greatest actor of his generation. At face value, it certainly does seem like an unlikely match, given the imbalance of (dare I say it?) intellectual curiosity and preternatural talents between them. But anything is possible, when one has more money than one can ever spend in several lifetimes and the other has greater goals and ambitions than his power and influence will allow at this point in his career.

Both parties involved, however directly or indirectly, can find benefit in being in each other’s orbits driveways, taco restaurants, tarmac, in an image-conscious culture ravenous for juicy content just like this.

One of the pair has received a decidedly more positive boost from it.

The other, not so much, perhaps by design.

He may have extremely valid reasons for wanting to promote that particular “douchebag” image, if he really is willingly participating in what appears to be yet another PR romance. His handlers and PR team probably assume that he must do this in order to continue to level up in Hollywood as the next Leonardo DiCaprio. And they are probably right, given the current wave of puritanical bigotry in the USA and elsewhere in the world. There is far too much money riding on the success of his next three potentially blockbuster projects and too many people with a vested interest in his success for them to allow his image to be seen as anything other than “normal” in order to appeal to the mainstream sensibilities of a global audience. His own ambitions most likely make it impossible to refuse.

Can’t knock the hustle. ✨💃🕺🏻✨ And both of them are hustlers. Maybe that’s what they have in common.

If this were truly an authentic romance, we already know that all they would need to do to keep it private is to KEEP IT PRIVATE: Say nothing to the press, don’t call the paparazzi to meet you in the parking lot, don’t alert the media at all. They both have the means and resources to disappear from public view whenever they want, if they really wanted to do that. It’s not a requirement to begin a new relationship with a press release, not even for celebrities.

And yet here we are, a love story loudly announced in a tale of two cars, maybe three, long driveways but park at the bottom where everyone can see, and taco dates with paparazzi who take photos but only with his wingman.

A story which has made it abundantly clear that at least one of them wants to

MAKE SURE EVERYONE NOTICES their super-duper-uber-private budding romance 🚘🌮❣️🌮🚘

I’m not entirely convinced that he’s even an active participant in all of this, TBH. Many of the details thus far don’t add up to much of anything except a lot of black cars being shuffled around in his driveway published by the trash gossip press with sensationalist headlines and articles intended to plant the idea in the minds of those who want to believe it or need to know it’s happening.

For reasons.

And all of this accomplished without a single decent photo as concrete evidence of this alleged romance between two people famously well-versed in the art of the selfie in the golden age of Instagram.

Not even a fan photo or one “leaked” by their team. Nothing, except some extraordinarily grainy outdoor shots in someone’s backyard where the only easily identifiable person is Kylie Jenner and only because of her unusual proportions, in a town teeming with Teemo lookalikes who would happily stand in for the real thing for nothing but the chance to say they did it.

The Devil works hard but Kris Jenner works harder.

Seeing might be believing, but only if we can actually see what we’re seeing.

Thanks for your comment. 🤔🥔📸🎪🫤🤷🏻‍♀️

#hello anon #timothée chalamet #kylie jenner #range rover rodeo #photos with potatoes #public private romance #douchebag #climber #a tale of two cars maybe three #tacos but bring your wingman #better photos from bigfoot sightings #bigfoot family bbq #kyliegate #seeing is believing #rah rah oh ma ma a #ro ma ro ma ma a #mafalda needs a disco nap #tales from the charmiesphere

[marsosims]

Hello! I've been super busy finishing up requirements for school... Today's the last day for the submission of requirements and I've been rushing to do them and submit on time, but I've been struck with a bout of procrastination, and I thought I'd participate in simblr appreciation day!

(under the cut because it's surprisingly long [that's what she said...])

I don't really have any particular people in mind but that's mostly because I cannot remember every single person and I would feel bad about forgetting anybody,,, ANYWAY! here's some appreciation to:

The people who make CC and mods - y'all make this game bearable and I genuinely cannot live without them so I am very much thankful to all of u ily all (except the permawallers)

The people who make those CC and mods POSSIBLE - the people over at s4s and all the other tools like s4castools, as well as the tutorials they've made over the years have been INVALUABLE to the community and I just wanted to recognize them and say thank you <3

The people who reblog CC and mods - I feel as a creator, I've always been very appreciative of people who reblog my content because it genuinely helps me out to have my content spread to a wider audience. On the flipside, as a consumer, I'm also very appreciative of these people because I LOVEE discovering new creators that I've never known before who make literally the best items out there and AAA i'm just so happy

The people who download and play with said CC and mods and create the most beautiful sims, stories, and builds with them - as a creator, I honestly feel very giddy whenever I see people use my cc or even my mods. I know I don't generally reblog (because I usually forget) but I genuinely appreciate all of you! Thank you so much! All of the sims and builds I've seen with my CC have been incredible and have been truly inspiring <3 The stories and edits that I see on my dashboard (or when I stalk people on my activity dashboard IM SORRY) are honestly amazing and I LOVE to see it!

Of course, the people who play vanilla! - whatever type of gameplay you make, whether it's vanilla or with a shit ton of CC and mods, I love to see it! It's so refreshing to see how differently people use the same game to create such a diverse community! Vanila players, however, I have SOO much respect for. You guys are the strongest soldiers out there. I am weak to the temptation of custom content. Always have been.

The people who made this a thing! - this has honestly been one of the best things I've seen on simblr in a while, all the negativity and drama have made me a little less keen on being here a few months ago, but I've slowly come back and I'm genuinely so happy to see something like this happen :D

My patrons - honestly couldn't really end this appreciation post without saying a thank you to my patrons. Seriously, thank you :D You don't know how much your donations mean to me and my getting through college. The extra funds from your donations have allowed me to be generally independent in terms of funding myself and my activities. Seriously.

Anyway, this has been a super long post and I'm actually kind of embarrassed to post it because it feels like a long diary because I've been rambling about stupid stuff that I should have probably kept to myself but uhh yeah!!!!

Hope you guys have a happy holiday season!!! Expect more things from me, at least until the end of this year! I've been working on some stuff! Probably not exciting, but it's stuff!

#marso #simblr appreciation day #this is so rambly #bye #i'm going to work on my requirements again

[klaineadvent]

Hello Everyone!

This is a long one, so apologies in advance! 

You may notice the Klaine Advent looking a little different this year! As noted in an earlier post, we’re rebranding to the December Klaine Fanworks Challenge!

There are a handful of reasons we’re doing this, but hopefully this little refresh will get people excited about participating all the way to the end. For consistency this year this event will remain attached to the Klaine Advent blog, and we’ll determine after the event whether we need to change that in the future.

So, how are things changing? 

There will be still be a daily word (yay!), these are chosen via a random word generator, and are NOT themed in any way. These words will post on this blog every day around 6 am Eastern Standard TIme.

That said! Since it is December, and Glee comes with a Christmas episode every year, and Klaine do have a Christmas duet tradition (more years than not anyway…) we will also be posting a weekly theme! These will be holiday flavored, and we are kicking off this inaugural event with the theme of Christmas Songs. Each weekly themed post will highlight a different song and some selected lyrics.

On to the details!

The Dates. December 1 - December 21 

The Words. Every day around 6am, US Eastern Standard Time, a fresh new word will pop out of the queue. This year the words are not alphabetical, and were chosen by a random word generator. The wonderful @caramelcoffeeaddict did all of the artwork again this year!

How to participate. Anyone can contribute, no need to sign up! There will be a single word prompt post each day for 21 days (December 1-21), and a holiday themed post every Friday beginning December 1, with the final themed post dropping December 22. You can write a drabble (or a sentence or a novel, if you like), create an art piece, make fresh gifs based on the prompt - whatever inspires you! This year the tag will be: “december klaine challenge 2023” and please tag with the word of the day so volunteers can ID the posts they need to reblog (please please please make sure all of your contributions are tagged so we can find them!). 

Contribute however works best for you. You can do something every day, every 4th day, once a week, altogether at the end, whatever works for you and your schedule. Use all the prompts or pick and choose what speaks to you. Set your own challenges. The only requirements for the Challenge are that it be Klaine centered, and that it references or uses one the word (or theme) prompt in some way.

Volunteers will be reblogging fics to the @todaydreambelieversfic blog, so you can always go scroll the blog to find the latest entries.  Of course everyone (especially the authors!) would be delighted if people reblogged to their own blog - the more people who reblog something the wider the potential viewing audience. We want to encourage everyone to reblog as many fics as they like all throughout the month!!

Partnership. This year again we’ll be partnering with @todaydreambelieversfic.  Authors and other creators for Klaine Advent who would like an additional place to promote their works are welcome to join as members. Just send a private message to @todaydreambelieversfic with your email address and they’ll add you to the blog membership.

Archive of Our Own. We have created a collection on AO3 for those people who don’t post to tumblr, and where those folks who do post to tumblr can share their advent works if you like! The collection will be up this weekend and I'll make another post when that's rolling.

Want to Volunteer? We can always use people to help with the daily reblogs!  If you can spare one or two days please signup here!! 

“But what if I don’t write or make art and don’t have time to volunteer?”  You are the most important person in the Advent!! Read the fics, look at the art, let the authors and artists know how much you appreciate their work by reblogging and commenting and liking and all those things creators like. Nothing helps a writer or artist losing steam get motivated more than a nice comment from someone. 

I think that covers everything, so if you have any questions or there’s something that’s not clear, please ask! 

Happy Writing!!

@slayediest

#december klaine fanworks challenge #december klaine challenge 2023 #introduction post

[deancas-stabfest]

STABFEST 2022 WRAPPED

GREETINGS, STABBERS

Last year was the debut of our precious child, DeanCas StabFest (FUNSIZED), and in the very humble opinion of the mods, it was a smashing success! we promised to bring you guys some stats to explore how the fest went down.

NB: The data is skewed more towards the fic, rather than the art. we know this, and we are sorry. we love love LOVE all the artists, and want to explore all that metadata as well, but we also want to protect copyright. The metadata for the fic is accessible manually from AO3 (the mods have been toiling in the spreadsheet mines for weeks), or was provided to us by the participants via the masterpost form. However, getting more metadata on the art would require us to feed the full images into an analysis program, and we just can't trust that data won't be misused.

The art metadata that is present in this Wrapped was attained either by human eyeball, or by using Jasc Paint Shop Pro 7.02, which was released on March 5, 2001 and does not have online capabilities. It has plenty of other capabilities, okay. Do not underestimate the grampa software. There is a HOT WAX filter. Also it was paid for ONCE. none of that subscription crap. suck our dicks adobe

NB2: STABFEST WRAPPED is not about competition (except for competing to make StabFest 2023 even more unhinged than 2022.) We are not ranking the participants; we are lining everyone up to give them a smooch on the forehead. There will be a few individuals mentioned here and there, but every team has oodles and oodles of data that we've been crunching, and everyone was part of making DeanCas StabFest 2022 into this handsome, virile beast.

Missed the Fest, or want to refresh your memory? Check out the MASTERLIST:

Part One

Part Two

You can also check out the StabFest2022 collection on AO3.

Alright, let's go!

Pitcher, Catcher? Author, Artist?

DeanCas StabFest 2022 (Fun-sized!) had 33 teams: 27 in the regular bang and 6 in the reverse bang. 31 authors and 25 artists participated. Three people participated as both author and artist, leading to a total of 53 participants. One person was on multiple teams as an author and four people were on multiple teams as artists.

Author/Artist switch hitters: KaylieMalinza (teams 4, 10, 12, 27, 200, and 600), Maple (teams 28 and 15) and Swirlycloud (teams 16 and 20.)

Mega Author: MBQ (teams 13, 14, and 15)

Mega Artists: Biscuit_tin (teams 100, 21, and 13), Lauryn T. (teams 22 and 27) and Mortea (teams 19, 25, 500, and 700.)

(yes, the two participants who were on the most teams (5 and 4) are the mods, but this was a pinch hitter/oh god the reverse bang is too smol situation okay don't look at us like that this isn't like the scene in chocolat where the antagonist breaks into the candy shop and gorges on everything this was SACRIFICE for the SAKE OF THE FEST. also it was fun and the mods regret nothing.)

What It Says On The Tin

Of the 33 teams, 22 of them showed STAB in the artwork and 7 of them referenced STAB in the fic title. (this was interpreted fairly loosely--if the STAB was imminent or the aftermath was visible in the art, and if the title held any mention of stab, cut, slice, etc. we counted it as a yes.) Of the 26 fic which did not reference STAB in the title, 3 did reference the stabbing implement.

You Must Be This Tall To Ride

Of AO3's four ratings, the majority of the fic were rated Teen and Up, and the next most common rating was Mature. There was only one brave fic rated General Audiences--but that may have more to do with people rating higher than needed out of caution. No one wants a nastygram from a puriteen who thinks Disney is too risque and scary for children. Anyway--the MPAA doesn't give official ratings to fanfic. We go on vibes, and reader beware.

Yeah, I Figured That Much. What Are You?

Of the artwork, 22 of the entries were digital art, 10 were traditional/physical, and 1 piece appeared to be mixed physical and digital (we were guessing on traditional vs digital art and may have gotten it wrong sometimes! sorry.) A 1:2 ratio of traditional to digital was a very pleasant surprise.

The STICKERS had a pretty good spread, too, with notable outliers being only 1 team receiving the Rebar of Shame and a whopping 18 teams receiving the Cannon of Canon Complicity. In total, 50 stickers were awarded. Special shout out to MBQ, who managed to qualify for every sticker across their three entries. The Rebar of Shame would have been so lonely without you.

Weapon of Choice

Speaking of rebar, there was a tasty variety in the stabbing implements used. 8 teams had multiple implements, leading to a total of 41 implements. Far and away the most used implement was a knife--5 instances of the OG demon knife, and an additional 14 knives of various types--cooking, hunting, ka-bar, etc. , for a total of 19. The runner up was the angel blade, clocking in at 5 instances, with arrow and sword coming in behind at 3 and 2 instances, respectively. The most exciting implements, however, are those which were unique, only one instance each.

Of all the implements, we estimate that 34 of them were used for their intended purpose--needle, syringe, and scalpel, for example--with 8 very special implements being employed "off label."

We can beat those numbers this year, team!

Let's make 2023 StabFest off label AF.

According to the Lore

Of the AO3 tags, it should come as no surprise that there were 33 iterations of STAB, and 30 iterations of Castiel/Dean Winchester (tabulated separately from Castiel & Dean Winchester--some fic were tagged with both.) The Sam Winchester character tag also showed up 19 times (not including variants such as "Injured Sam Winchester," pairing tags, or, a mod favorite, "pray for sammy.") Canon made an appearance in 22 tags--including Canon-Typical Violence as well as Canon Elements, Canon Compliant, etc. Angst and Blood showed up in 11 and 12 tags, respectively.

A few more tags were cherry picked for the chart below; including every tag would be very difficult, since the 33 fic were tagged with a staggering total of 372 unique tags.

The mods would like to give a special shout out to the freeform tags. They were delightful in situ and tantalizing out of context. Here are our top ten favorites, in no particular order:

a frankly concerning number of references to Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah (All That Remains, by DoctorProfessorSong)

author was craving s'mores while writing this (Hunger Pains, by Followsthebees)

copious use of frog analogies?? (apologue of the boiling frog, by howldean)

dean is re-hymenated and as smooth as a baby's bottom (Rescue Burrito, by KaylieMalinza)

But Dean Forgives Him Because He's Smitten (Just Like Knitting, by FriendofCarlotta)

cas has a metaphorical c-section in here and that’s all you need to know (Fill Thyself with the Word of God, by themauvesoul)

Sam and Cas come up with a crazy idea and Dean counts to ten in the background. (The Good Old College Try, by silver_penny)

Cas triggers his own trauma by jerking off to the wrong thing (eros and thanatos, by autisticandroids)

oh well it's Cas what would you expect?! (Dusk When I Met You, by MiracleofWinchester)

There is also taco salad somewhere (Happy Kitty, by MBQ)

The mods also, with glimmering eyes and trembling hands, present a gold star to the tag that Understood The Assignment:

Apologies for attempted murder doubling as intricate rituals also (By your hand, by SlopeSlippers)

Thanks, buddy. StabFest feels Seen.

My True Form is Approximately The Size of Your Chrysler Building

As StabFest is FUN-SIZED, it should come as no surprise that most of the fic had fairly low word counts. With a required minimum of 1,500, 5 fic were between 1,500 and 2,500 words, and 8 were between 2,500 and 3,500. With a grand total word count of 183,643 spread across 33 fic, the average word count is 5,464--but since the median was only 4,397, then clearly the three fic with word counts over 15,400 were outliers adn should not have been counted.

The stab-free zone between 10k and 15k requires further study. 🧐

The art sizes had no measurable minimum--the rules just stated one art piece minimum, with no details about dimensions, resolution, etc. Some curious numbers shook out, though.

The width of the pieces ranged from 500 to 2048 pixels, with a median of 1280. The height ranged from 386 to 4716, with a median of 1280. (NB: some artists did multiple pieces for a single team, such as a main art piece and a banner, or multiple main art pieces. E.g., that 4,716 comes from three pieces of 1572 pixel height being combined.) In total, the StabFest art from all 33 teams is 36,433 pixels wide by 41,378 pixels tall. Perhaps some enterprising soul can convert that to football fields.

File size, as reported by Windows Explorer, ranged from 49.1kB to 4670kB with a median of 638.5kB. Bear in mind that some of these pieces would have been resized by tumblr or another hosting service, and of course, multiple pieces for the same team are added together. The total size, based on the files currently available, is 25630.08kB, or 25.63MB.

Certain People, Special People, Can Perceive My True Visage

What's most fun is the little option is Jasc Paint Shop Pro 7.02 to show the number of unique colors. These ranged from a minimum of 11,323 (The art for Forest Fever) to a maximum of 894,465 (the art for Light Me Up With Your Ardent Sword--hi res versions available on AO3), with a median of 95,293. You'd think the sum of the unique colors would be HUGE--and yes, if you add up all the numbers you get a whopping 4,616,209--but of course there's going to be a lot of overlap.

After combining all the StabFest art into a single MEGAZORD, like the Power Rangers, we see that the number of unique colors is much smaller: 2,272,549. That means there are 2,343,660 colors which are shared by at least two entries. Isn't that sweet? It's like the art is holding hands.

Because The Mods Commanded It. Because We Have Work for You.

Well, that wraps up StabFest2022 Wrapped. If you had fun last year and want to see what StabFest Wrapped2023 will look like, please check out the new features (femslash!! new stickers! A DISCORD) and mosey on over to the sign up form. And please take a gander at our promo post tag and see if something catches your fancy for a signal boost.

#stabfest 2022 #deancas stabfest #destiel #castiel #dean winchester #stabfest promo post #fanfic #fanart

[whumble-beeee]

Tortured? I Was Tortured Once.

The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping | Cont'd from Part 5

Content: disabled whumpee, trans whumpee, past captivity references, torture, threats, begging, blood

* * * * * * * *

Except from: The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping; a self-help guide for villains and bounty-hunters

[{When hero-keeping in the short term}... it's imperative to do everything in your power to keep your identity a secret; wear a mask to hide your face, cover as much of your body as possible to minimize the amount of prints, hair, or other forms of DNA/evidence you could leave behind at the scene. Use a voice modulator, and if you can help it, don’t even be in the same room with the hero when they are conscious. Most importantly, do not tell the hero any identifying details about yourself, your loved ones, or your past.

This is solely to protect you, the dastardly villain! Should the hero ever escape or decide to take revenge (not that a hero would ever dare, as long as you follow the instructions in this guide!), you want to make it nigh impossible to find you and hurt you, lest they turn you into their captured villain!]

* * * * * * * *

“Alright!” Deeby clapped his hands together, chipper than ever. “So, back when I was in the early days of my job, I sometimes made some… questionable choices. Dangerous ones. Not that what I do isn’t dangerous, I can handle the dangers of the job. I mean I fucked with the wrong people. Powerful people. Not in the sense of… y’know, what you have. Super-powers. I mean like they were like a crime lord or CEO, lotta money, lotta power… God, I was a fucking idiot. But hey, live and learn, right?”

He brushed at Stan’s cheek to ease his attention up and away from the floor, where it had been firmly located since the start of the monologue. Stan just leaned away slightly and tried not to let his burning eyes brim over into tears. “I’m still here, right? Still kicking, so I must have done something right.”

“Unfortunately…” Stan mumbled.

“Repite?”

“Nothing.”

Deeby tilted his head matter-of-factly. “Look, if you’re gonna be defiant, at least do it loud and proud, bud.” He ruffled Stan’s hair much too aggressively for Stan’s liking.

“Might actually respect you if you did that. Anyway, I’m sure you can figure out what basically happened after that; I got hired to rough up some asshole’s waste-of-space trust fund kid, gave him back with a couple bones broken and a couple extra bullet holes, but he was fine, then daddy got mad and managed to find me somehow, and here’s where it gets really interesting, bud. You wanna know what this chain’s for?”

He reached up and jangled the metal loops reaching down from the ceiling, and the chain shifted just enough to barely nudge into Stan and nearly send him careening backward again from fear.

“Uh…” He’d been doing his damndest to ignore the mercenary and retreat into himself, and was actually half succeeding right up until the required audience participation. The question just served to jarringly rip him back headfirst into the painful and hopeless despair of the present situation. “Not–... Not really…”

“Sucks to be you then, I guess. So I get knocked out and kidnapped, and I wake up in this, like, fucked up white-tiled torture room with like a drain in the floor and suspicious cabinets and all that, and then I'm strung up in the center of the room–...”

He grabbed Stan's arms and wrenched them up all the way above his head, so his wrists were together in Deeby's hands and held flush with the chain. Then he pulled up even more. Stan squeaked and briefly struggled to tug away, but quickly fell into pliable stiffness under the mercenary’s warning stare. So instead, he stretched as tall as he could, shoulders pressing the sides of the collar into his neck to try and relieve the tension. It didn't really work.

“...–Like this. So I was literally hanging from the ceiling from my wrists, feet barely even touching the ground, cuffs grinding into my wrists so bad they were already bleeding when I woke up, it hurt like shit. Hold your arms up there, would ya bud?”

Deeby let go of Stan's wrists and he immediately pulled them back into his sides. No way he was holding himself in a torture position. No way.

That was until the mercenary regrabbed his wrists and slammed them back up into the chain, leaning down slightly and getting way too close to Stan’s face. He could feel the body heat radiating off the man.

Stan leaned away as much as he physically could, which wasn’t much with his arms holding him excruciatingly erect.

“You’re really starting to get on my nerves,” Deeby growled, not a trace of his usual smile highlighting his fiery eyes. “Hold the position or I’ll lock your handcuffs up there just like they did to me and we can roleplay it exactly as it played out. You wanna do that instead?”

Stan managed a minuscule shake of the head. He was sure he’d be able to feel the bounty hunter’s breath on his face if it weren’t for the mask.

“Speak up, runt.”

“G-got it,” Stan breathed.

Deeby more tentatively let go of Stan's wrists this time, an unnecessary precaution, since Stan grasped the chain and held onto it for dear life so as not to anger him further.

This isn't so bad. He lied to himself, Deeby mercifully backing up to more than inches away from his face. At least there aren't any flashbacks now. Just have to hold the chain.

“Yeah, just like that. Perfect.”

He held up his fingers to create a fake camera frame around Stan. As if he knew exactly what picture he wanted to paint with Stan's body.

“So I woke up like that, hanging by the wrists, and of course I recognized the guy because I do my research, y'know? So I woke up and I already knew exactly what was happening. He tried to monologue at me, I bantered back, the guy was getting all pissy because I guess I was too smug or whatever. And… well, I forgot to say, when I woke up, they'd taken off my shirt–”

Deeby started to twiddle at the top button on Stan's button-down and, with an amount of force that surprised the both of them, Stan slapped his hand away and nearly toppled to the ground jumping backward.

“Don't touch my shirt!” he yelped. He tripped over the chain that anchored him to the corner sending spirals of agony out from his knee again before he stabilized himself and stared at the mercenary in abject terror.

Deeby stared back in disbelief. Then a flash of danger, a slight tilt of the chin, furrowing of the eyebrows, a tensing of the shoulders.

“You… really don't know when to quit. Do you?” he growled.

Stan took another small limp back. “I–”

“I'm not gonna take your shirt off.” Stan barely withheld the primal urge to fully turn around and run when the mercenary surged forward, grabbed Stan by the chain of the handcuffs, and yanked him forward. The southern twang rang so hopelessly clear through his wrathful voice. “I am many unsavory things, but a perv ain't fuckin’ one of 'em. Get back over here and stay before I kick your ass again.”

Then once again, Stan found himself with his arms pinned above his head and flush against the chain. Though this time, the mercenary clamped his hand over Stan's own, pressed them in so hard that Stan's fingers smushed painfully between the chain links. He didn’t even try to struggle. Just tried to shrink away from his towering presence and keep his eyes on the floor. Not let Deeby see the redness of his eyes that threatened tears.

“So, Stan, whaddya think they did to me next?” Deeby questioned, humor all but gone from his voice. “Strung up, shirt off, completely helpless and at their mercy. What would you do if you were a sick sonofabitch getting revenge on the person who tortured your son?”

Stan stared off to the side. “I… I don't…–”

“Oh come on, bud, you must have some sort of idea. Can't think of a single way you'd hurt–”

“No, no, no no nononoNO!” Stan mutter bordered on shouting as he started trying to yank his hands out of the mercenary’s grasp and only succeeded in yanking them hard enough that he was being held up solely and much more painfully by the cuffs themselves.

He couldn't take this anymore, was Deeby gonna torture him or not?

“I can't think of a single way I'd wanna torture someone! I'm not some– some freak sadist kidnapper-torturer like that guy! Or like you!!”

Deeby hummed lightly, unfazed by yet another one of Stan's outbursts, holding the cuffs firm. “You'll learn.”

Stan growled and yanked again, hard enough that when they didn't give it all, he actually lifted into the air slightly. He cried out from the bite of the metal digging into his wrists and scraping into the top layers of skin. A few drips of blood started to pool on the surface.

If Deeby noticed the scarlet now smeared across Stan's wrists, he didn't show it. He just pulled the chain of the cuffs up further. Stan's elbows locked straight up, pressing into the side of his head. He almost had to go up on his tiptoes.

“Besides,” the hunter continued nonchalantly. “What he did to me isn't what I would do to you, if I were to torture you.”

“IF!?” Stan groaned, trying another weak yank against the cuffs and sending small lightning bolts of pain down his arms. “What do you mean ‘if’?! What–… What do you call this?”

Deeby shrugged. “Foreplay?”

Stan froze dead in his tracks. He could physically feel all the blood leaving his head and rushing down straight to his feet. Foreplay? As in… There was… Ge wouldn't, right? There was no way.

“Y-you–...” He could barely even get words to form properly, barely able to suck in enough air to even speak. “You–... Wait, you–”

“Cálmate, Stan, Christ, it was a joke. Loosen up. Wanna know what I would do, though?”

“Ah…”

His head felt like it had just been dunked underwater. Or maybe that was the concussion coming back haunt this waking nightmare once more. Who’s to say? Why not both, make it a party.

And yet, Deeby still leaned down to whisper in Stan's ear; “There's a reason I put the leash chain on your good leg.”

Before Stan could react, Deeby leaned back on his heels and pulled the chain hanging from the ceiling with him, unbalancing Stan just enough that he had to try to take a step forward to readjust, except the fetter on his ankle caught on the very end of the leash. He couldn't get his good leg under himself for support. Which left–

Stan let out a yelp as his full weight fell onto his injured knee, shooting rivulets of pain all the way up to his spine. And couldn't shift his weight off of it with how to chain dragged him out, so when his knee immediately buckled to save himself from the screeching pain, he had the new problem of the cuffs knawing into his already bloody wrists, which made him scream again and claw desperately at the chain and the hand holding him up until he was death gripping the chain in a half pullup. His arms were already shaking from the strain of it.

“DEEBY!!” He choked out. “Deeby! Deeby please stop, stop, I can't AUAGH–” He slipped and spent agonizing moments flailing before he got another hold again, moments in which Deeby didn't let up at all, despite Stan's amiable requests.

“Deeby you said–!” he could barely squeak out a phrase through the tear-blurred vision and gasping breaths and the sheer amount of concentration it took to focus through the already horrible aches and agony the clench onto the chain and hold himself up and not make it worse. “You said no torture! You– you said–! Let go! You said you wouldn't–”

“I said I wouldn't hurt you if you did what I told you to.” Deeby retorted nonchalantly, pulling back on the chain just a bit more and wrenching Stan even more off balance. “Which you didn't.”

“Let go–!” Stan tugged as hard as he could. No give.

“Repeatedly.”

“I can't–” Stan's voice cracked. His hands were on fire clutching onto the cold metal links. “I can't hold this, I can't, I can't, please let go-o, it– it hurts! Please!”

“That's the point, bud, it's a stress position. It stresses you. You’re doing great, chiquito, taking it like a champ.”

Little droplets of blood left bright red tracks down Stan's forearms as whines squeaked out from behind his gritted teeth in place of the full blown screams he refused to let out.

“I hate you.”

“Tell you what, bud. If you can shut up for just 30 seconds, no whines, no cries, no begging or grand sweeping declarations of feelings, I'll let you down. Deal?”

“That’s–!”

“Take it or leave it. Deal?”

“Deal–! Deal!”

“Great, now mouth-shut.”

Stan immediately squeezed his lips together as violently as possible and focused every single fiber of his being into holding himself up, keeping off his bad knee and not letting the cuffs scrape his arms to bone while also not squeaking in pain or cursing Deeby out. That may have been the hardest part of the entire balancing act. His muscles burned with the strain. His hands started to slip on the chain from the sweat, so he gripped harder, hard enough that his hands started to go numb. That was fine. Less pain, right? Was thirty seconds over yet? Stan just had to pray that Deeby would keep his word this time and actually only do thirty seconds. God he would give anything to just go home. See his family again. Be out of this hell.

Then a new, perfunctory voice shattered his fragile concentration. He'd been so laser focused hadn't even noticed someone else enter the room.

“Oh, did I interrupt an intimate moment? I can come back in ten minutes if you two wanna finish up.”

Stan’s grip slipped on the chain and he cried out, catching himself after an agonizing centimeter fall and praying to anyone that would listen that Deeby wouldn’t get mad at him for it. Though Deeby didn't seem to care too much anymore as his own grip holding Stan's cuffs loosened and a small growl ementated from the bottom of his throat.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Then Stan was suddenly freed, cuffs no longer held in the iron grip of a bounty hunter, and he collapsed to the floor in a graceless heap.

* * * * * * * *

Next

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy | @pirefyrelight | @cakeinthevoid

#whump #heroes and villains #whump writing #whumper #whumpee #hero whump #defiant whumpee #kidnapping whump #captivity whump #trans whumpee #disabled whumpee #(un)official guide #honestly im pretty proud of this chapter #its very fun and good #and i feel like it flows really well #also #a new challenger has entered the ring? #who could it be??? #bad news for stan #thats who it is #dont worry i will give him some comfort eventually :) #but i meant it when i said this boy is gonna have to EARN IT #lets just say deeby is gonna feel bad for stan by thr time this guy leaves #and we're also gonna learn some new stuff anout deeby! #yay!

[aroaceleovaldez]

what type of powers and themes do you think would work for a child of chaos (op and Mary Sue-ish Ik)? Also what type of personality or fatal flaw might they have?

This is a really interesting one! (Also never apologize for op/mary sue demigods. that's like, their entire thing)

Themes:

Creation, new beginnings

Making something out of nothing

Chaos vs Order (And possibly balance/understanding between them)

Power ideas:

Not to be a homestuck on main sideblog but you know Roxy Lalonde's powers as a Rogue of Void? Stealing from Nothing, ergo creating something? That. The ability to summon, create, or generate new things out of "nothing." This would probably require a lot of focus and energy, or else would just result in half-baked semi-amorphous blobs of void with weird stuff jutting out of it. You could also include a caveat on that with something along the lines of Momo from BNHA - to create something, they need to have a deep understanding of the thing they're attempting to create.

Possibly branching off of that, the ability to create new things out of preexisting things. You look away and look back and they've somehow fused together a frog and a bird into some poor abomination and are active trying to figure out how to graft a fern onto the thing.

Air powers! Particularly relating to the lower atmosphere. Maybe they would get floaty powers like how Jason can fly? Maybe also refined control over heavy gases specifically, just for fun.

Can talk to birds, or maybe even turn other things into birds.

Turning invisible/into mist, highly refined and strong control of The Mist (demigod kind).

The ability to make things vanish, either just visibly or entirely.

Shadow-travel feels like a given.

Personality/Fatal Flaw:

A resistance to sensibility, order, and authority. They enjoy things that are nonsensical and/or natural. They dislike structure, order, discipline, or schedules.

They tend to be very in-the-moment and laissez-faire.

People may perceive them lazy, but they aren't resistant to acting in general. They simply have strong opinions about when is the "right" time to act or interfere with things. This often makes no sense to anyone else. Or maybe they are lazy. Who knows.

They enjoy sitting back and just watching things happen, with as little interference from themself as possible. They generally prefer to be an audience rather than participant (as opposed to perhaps a child of Eris, who may prefer to get involved and stir things up). It can be difficult to spur them to action, but when they do get involved it quickly becomes wild and confusing. (can you tell i am trying to avoid the word "chaotic")

They are very impulsive and lack foresight or any thought of repercussion for their actions.

They may be highly experimental and curious in nature, often interested in science experiments and examining cause and effect. They may be particularly fond of topics like biology, ecology, and chemistry.

Being resistant to authority, they often find themselves in trouble, and frequently make more trouble for themselves as a result.

They are difficult to reason with, and it is even more difficult to understand their own reasoning behind things.

These are just a couple of thoughts, but hopefully they help you brainstorm!

#pjo #riordanverse #godly parents #ask #Anonymous #headcanon #headcanons

[the-greek-mythos-project]

The Greek Mythos Project

Hello everybody, my name is Camila and I am the creator of The Greek Mythos Project. My pronouns are They/Them and I can otherwise be found on Tumblr as @ixhkor-and-ambrosxa. Any and all questions can either be directed here or there and I'd be happy to help any of you :).

So... What Is This Project And Blog About? Well, it's about The Greek Mythos Project. The Greek Mythos Project is a new thing I've created here on Tumblr in order to showcase smaller artists waiting to get out there, feel like their audience is too niche, and to ultimately learn more about Greek Mythology. It originally stemmed from a smaller, more personal project where I intended to 'rewrite' all of mythology in order to learn more about it and to generally get back into writing, but as I thought more about the specifics, I realized how time consuming and burnt-out I would be. That thought lead to another and another... and then I was like: what if I release this idea into the world and allow others to participate in it? Then I'd still be able to learn more about all of it, but I could also meet new writers and see more writing styles. So, here we are, with a blog & all.

What Is The Project's Main Goal? The ultimate main goal of this project is to showcase others' work. I myself--as a writer of lesser-known characters--know how hard it is to get that niche audience or even gain the courage to let loose those 'weird' headcanons so I wanted to provide an easy way to get that. I want to know those niche writers and characters and 'weird' headcanons--one of my general hyperfixations is worldbuilding! So, even if nobody else wants to read it, I want to. I want to know, I want to learn, and I want to be. So, the ultimate goal is getting out there, but there are some lesser and more personal goals such as networking, learning to work with wider and more diverse audiences (knowledge, headcanons, and otherwise), and having something bigger than myself to work on so I don't end up spiraling. It lets me know, as someone who struggles with mental health, that there's always going to be something to fall back on, such as this project :).

What Is This Project Exactly? The Greek Mythos Project will hopefully be a long AO3/Wattpad fic made up of the POVs and Stories of various characters in Greek Mythology. The end project will hopefully be arranged in chronological order and include as many stories and versions of the stories as they can. The possibilities and submissions can be endless but the only restriction this project asks for is that it keeps to one POV only. I ask this because this is the vision I am hoping to pursue but there will be a companion-fic set that you can submit to if you want a Multiple POV submission. Each chapter that we post will include your socials, how to find you, how to find your other works, the submission-fic notes, personal notes on the fic, and anything else you or we decide is best to put. Of course, you can opt out of any and all of this and I can just put anonymous <3. This project is essentially a mass Character Study/Introspection, if you'd like it in more simple and fandom-based terms :).

What Are The Project's Requirements? Other than having only one POV... there aren't really any. Of course, there's a level of trust and respect required on both sides once we all start working with each other, but that's just the basics. The word count can be anything, Spicy & More Graphic scenes can be taken once we have a coordinator for that and/or get further into it, and hopefully we'll have editors and beta-ers if you, as a writer, want or require them. If anything, I can help edit and work with you. This is a pretty formless job; it can be writing, it can be art, it can be mood boards, it can be collabs. As long as everything's communicated effectively, nothing should be a problem.

How Do I Submit? Currently, the best way to submit things is through the Ask Box on this page. I'll also be opening up the submissions tab/thing but I have zero experience on my part with it so the safest bet's through the ask box. Same thing with private posts, they don't always work so, when in doubt, go to the ask box :). Feel free, whenever you submit via the ask box, to put a little line at the bottom or top with your information, any notes, etc for me to put in when I eventually post this. Also, please check in on this blog every once in a while in case we need to ask to clarify something <3.

Can I Participate Even Without Socials? Yes, you absolutely can! Our ask box will always have an anonymous option and even if you have something or another and just want this to be separate, feel free to tell us you want to be anonymous! I and those who I may be working with will completely get and respect your privacy! /pos /gen

What Is The Project's Deadline? As of now, there isn't one. This project is supposed to be long term, which means it should still be going five or so years from now (depending on how the world's going at that time, at least) and so there is no deadline going on for the submissions-end. On my end, I plan to start picking it up and publishing around Late-August or July because I hope by that point, we'll have some submissions or at least be working a lot more on this as it picks up and also I know this month is really stressful for a lot of people with final projects, exams, etc and getting ready for Summer so hopefully that'll be a decent amount of time to really get things going.

Can I Help Out? Yes, you absolutely may! I'd love some editors to help back me up on things, beta-ers, Spicy-Scene coordinators (because that's just not my editing cup of tea) and other people that's going to be crucial to bringing this to light. Again, this project is based on community and I love people so feel free to reach out so we can work together to see what's the right fit, aka schedules, genres, etc! I might even create a discord server if we get large enough!

Any Other Comments? Feel free to ask questions. This and my main account are always free to pop in if you'd like, just know that it might take me a while to get back to you... it's a bad habit :(. Also, fandom-based characters and chapters are completely on the table! I personally find it much easier to write in a fandom-based setting so if that's your jam, feel free and make sure to tell us where you're comin' from so we showcase it! At some point, too, I'd love to make a little 'spreadsheet' thing on here to show who's working on who to maybe get people out of their shell or introduce others or maybe even collab on stuff!

Anyway, I think that should all be it :). Feel free to ask questions, interact with us, or even share the #The Greek Mythos Project on other platforms if you'd like or with friends! Also keep up with us on the same tag for updates, questions, or even maybe prompts/challenges if ya'll would like :). See you at some point and have fun!

#The Greek Mythos Project #greek mythology #greek mythology tumblr #writers on tumblr #zeus #poseidon #hades #hera #demeter #hestia #dionysus #hermes #apollo #artemis #aphrodite #ares #hephaestus #amphitrite #persephone #kronos #sorry for being annoying like that I just want to get it out there :) #character introspection #character studies #art #writing #hope this takes off!

[pavo-ocxllus]

❝ ...𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭. ❞

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡… kenma, suna, daichi, and osamu accidentally propose to you, their lovely s/o, through an unlucky sequence of circumstances in public. 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠… kenma kozume x gn!reader, rintaro suna x gn!reader, daichi sawamura x gn!reader, osamu miya x gn!reader (and slight one-sided takinoue x gn!reader but shh) 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠… established relationship, fluff, timeskip characters are used ‘cause idk why would a high schooler or college student would do such a thing that requires a lot of commitment and maybe financial stability, 7.5k total words (words in their seperate sections in order of appearance; 1.3k, 2.8k, 1.9k and 1.5k) 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬… don’t actually propose in public unless you know your s/o is the type of person who’s ok with that, timeskip characters are used, cursing, probably one misused music reference bc i haven’t really played an instrument in a while, atsumu slander, accidental suna favoritism (i think i went too overboard on describing his hehe), daichi and osamu’s weren’t proofread ‘cause i’m tired. 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐭… aesthetic is back! *confetti pops out* fun fact: osamu’s was inspired by a nostalgia induced mystreet trip lmao

𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐦𝐚 𝐤𝐨𝐳𝐮𝐦𝐞. ･ﾟ: *. — 孤爪研磨

KENMA tended to keep his personal life away from his audience and under wraps. 

privacy was always something the man appreciated (though it was often mercilessly ignored by his friends in high school kuroo, much to his dismay), and as much as his fans on the other side of the screen pleaded and begged for at least one vlog showcasing his lifestyle, kenma never indulged in their desires. 

however, through the small, miniscule crack of the sturdy, tough wall he built and maintained separating the two lives for as long as he began his career, you managed to seep through.

it was mostly through pure accident; you practically barged into his room to ask about what he wanted for dinner since you screaming at the top of your lungs clearly wasn’t enough to go past the wooden door for his office. 

in reality, kenma was trying desperately hard to ignore you. currently, it was quite early in his career and naturally, his mic and noise-canceling headphones were nowhere to be seen. with the recent, massive influx in viewers tuning in to his streams, he ordered some equipment so the quality of his videos would rise.

the problem? it was going to be a shipped a month from now.

your screeching being practically akin to one of a banshee’s, it just seemed more amplified to the poor headphone-wearing users; muffled and lagged, sure, but amplified. 

of course, this drew concern from the various people watching it all go down as kenma slumped into his chair in embarrassment. comments were flooding in the chat with various emojis and various different wordings of “what’s going on?” or  “what the hell?” were used, often with all caps. 

hearing a faint “oh my god kenma, how long does it take to decide on what you want for dinner when you literally eat the same flavor of ramen everyday-!!” pass through the door behind him in addition to your footsteps becoming increasingly louder like some kind of cursed crescendo, this changed the chat’s feelings to a more humorous tone, but in the streamers point of view, this situation appeared more scarier than any horror or thriller game he ever played so far.

when you finally kicked down unlocked the door, revealing yourself in all your glory to many of kenma’s fans, you were seething. okay, maybe the fans were just being dramatic, but at the very least, you were quite annoyed at what you assumed to be kenma’s indecisiveness on what to eat for dinner. 

and that was how his fans, well, now your fans too apparently, were introduced to you.

you were then turned into a familiar face in kenma’s streams, either just in the background either attending to household chores, participating in your hobbies, sitting there to munch on whatever weirdly obscure snack you got your hands on, or even playing alongside him. 

in spite of kenma’s initial reluctance, you appeared to be rather open to the idea of being in his streams. he really, really, really didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, yet seeing you with a warm smile on your face illuminated by the dancing lights of the monitor before you, sharing embarrassing anecdotes about his day to day life to his fans that he would’ve wanted to dig, crawl in, and die in a hole if he was actually paying attention, kenma started growing accustomed to slightly overlapping the circles of his life in front of his followers and away from them.

one particular night, he was live, as per usual, and you just so happened to be playing along with kenma. after a few minutes in, you came to the rather convenient revelation that it was your turn to do the laundry that day, and not wanting to wear the same crusty clothes that have been sitting in the laundry hamper for who knows how long, you rushed off, abandoning your controller.

as cat-like eyes gazing at your figure from the moment you stood up to the moment you left for the door, he quickly flipped out his phone, fingers tapping away seemingly at the speed of light. after he skimmed towards the contents, before picking up his controller again to continue the game.

“alright, five iridium bars and a prismatic shard... shouldn’t be too hard,” kenma muttered to himself as the chat’s messages started air out confusion. as he glanced over to the other screen displaying their words, he smiled and looked to the camera. “just tell y/n i’m grinding.”

kenma’s words did nothing to quell the growing confuddlement amongst the fans tuning in, especially some that just joined. what did y/n had to do with this?

“ken?” you called out from outside the room, sound eerily similar to when you first made your little “debut” back in his early streaming days.

“yeah?” he replied, eyes focused on the screen in front of him, though he was all ears nonetheless.

“...care to explain what... this... is??” before kenma could respond with a noise of puzzlement he tends to do when he needs emphasis or repetition of questions, his eyes widened to the likeness of saucers. 

velvet box in your hand with no washing machine or dryer whirling in the distance, you were greeted with nothing but unabashed shock. to a viewer who wasn’t blind watching the scene unfold, it was very clear what this meant.

“i- uh... um,” kenma tripped upon his words, coughing in an attempt to buy himself enough time to gather his words correctly. even after all this time, being a public figure and personality, his more shyer tendencies still shone through. it didn’t help that this (possibly) botched proposal was currently broadcasted by his camera for thousands, if not, tens of thousands currently watching and/or typing in the chat as we speak along the lines of “HOLY SHIT,” “ASDWQKJW,” some odd string of emojis, “he’s just grinding!”, or all at the same time. “i-it wasn’t supposed to go this way.”

despite his voice’s volume making the none-existent wind of the apartment plus noises from the forgotten game you two were playing in the background seem louder in comparison, it didn’t stop your questioning expression to slowly morph into a sly smirk.

“oh really?” you asked, grin morphing to the likeness of kuroo’s, causing kenma to subconciously cringe. “how’s it supposed to go, then?”

the reverse pudding-haired man sneaked a quick glance at his monitor, noticing a flood of even more comments coming in. if they were personified as a total, kenma would’ve imagined them to be an over enthusiastic sports fan spilling popcorn and soda everywhere while chanting wildly, except they were watching some proposal online, creepily enough.

kenma tended to keep his personal life under wraps, but with your presence on what he showed to essentially strangers, an event so intimate as this manage to barge through the cracks of the wall he upheld.

the moment was already ruined by the unintended crowd currently watching the both him and your every move, and that’s not even counting the amount of people that would watch this scene after the stream had ended.

there was no point in broadcasting this any further for the world to see, however, in a sudden burst of courage, kenma silently picked up his controller and started tapping away at the buttons and moving the mini-joystick. your somewhat pompous expression fell in favor of confusion on what your boyfriend was doing.

not too long after, your controller that was sitting on the table a few centimeters away from you vibrated. in curiosity, you picked it up, your eyes darting towards the screen in front of you.

the game had a prompt pop up on your side of the screen, giving it a quick skim before widening your eyes, despite you having the knowledge of what was going to happen a few minutes prior.

“kodzuken proposed! will you accept?”

𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐚. ･ﾟ: *. — 砂倫太郎

the stakes were high, and everybody in the audience was loudly proclaiming their excitement and for the current volleyball game, only being echoed through the spacious venue. the ejp raijin and msby black jackals were going head to head in one of the most widely anticipated matches of the season among fans and the players alike. 

the energy seemed unmatched than the middle blocker’s previous games, the bleachers above him seemed completely occupied by the boisterous cheers of fans, and he was even able to spot a handful of people cheering specifically for him. morale appeared high amongst him and his fellow teammates, but there was a sense of anxiety towards the outcome of the match.

in other words, the worst place for SUNA to propose, in his not-so humble opinion. 

he was never the kind of guy to show-off his relationship with you. although he was public with it, the two of you often spotted out and about in public and littered here and there inside both his and your social handles, many people outside family, friends, and co-workers didn’t know much of what happens behind closed doors.

besides, the last thing he would want is to humiliate himself in front of hundreds, if not, thousands of spectators’ eyes upon you guys if you reject his proposal—scratch that—the last thing suna would want to do is humiliate you in front of hundreds, if not, thousands of spectators’ eyes upon you guys if you reject his proposal.

suna was comfortable in the love the two of you shared between each other. he still gave you plenty of affection, sure, but he knew better to get jealous if someone was a little too touchy-feely for your liking or feel fall into a pit of despair if you were particularly busy when he was feeling a bit touch starved for a few days. it was the same for you—and the two of you would always make it up to one another.

however, the reassurance did nothing to quell the fear that was rather snug at the bottom of his stomach. engagement was something that required a lot of commitment—not that the two of you weren’t pretty committed to each other already. still, the thought of making you uncomfortable couldn’t help but cause fear in suna.

so, initially, he decided to postpone his proposal to a different date.

keyword: initially.

getting back to the current situation, he found himself standing at the end line of his team’s side of the court with the jackals mirroring on the other. exchanging the usual pleasantries of thanking their opponents for the game, bowing, then jogging away to commence warm-ups. 

well, not before you caught suna’s hazel-eyed attention.

look at you, with your oversized jersey (when suna pointed it out, you argued that it was necessary to “preserve the authenticity,” much to his amusement at your choice of vocabulary) clad in it’s beautiful, golden glory, a white number ‘9′ embroidered on the front, and a big, stupid grin that he was definitely going to make fun of later. though suna wasn’t the type to feel overwhelming pride and loyalty towards his team—to him it’s just kind of how sports work—but that couldn’t possibly prevent the sudden wave of dignity wash over him. 

you’ve always been his biggest fan, and this game was really just any other one, but just the sight of you alone as he subconsciously blurred out the other faces in the crowd brought him back when he was just a high school boy.

god, how he wanted to marry you so bad.

unfortunately, a certain man seemed to notice this.

“hey, suna-san!” 

well, not him.

one of his teammates, naming komori, called out, affectively breaking suna out of his trance. upon closer investigation on your face, you appeared to be sporting a smug grin spreading across your face. squinting his slender eyes in annoyance, suna turned on his heel towards his awaiting team, already stretching their hearts out as echoes of counting from one to ten faded into the endless chatter of the audience above.

pre-game rituals were done as per usual, and suna almost forgot that he felt someone’s eyes on him while he practically ogling at you a few minutes previously. before he knew it, he was already in the sidelines, awaiting for either the referee, coach, or manager to call him to the side so he could switch with komori once he rotates to the front row.

seeing the libero behind the sidelines a step away from outside the court and the referee beckoning him over, he quickly jogged towards komori and with a high-five and the approval of the official via a deafening whistle, suna was now in the front row, using his hands to block the guy in front of him so he could conceal the current server’s position. 

that said guy was none other than the atsumu miya himself.

with all his experience dealing with him in high school while they were on the same team—which was already an irritation to begin with—when they first played against each other, every single move he pulled varied from causing a slight vexation from the blocker or delivering a huge blow to his ego. from his serves to his setter dumps, ‘unpredictable’ was one of the best words to describe the bleached-blond after a prolonged time of not watching his antics.

however, after a few games against his fellow high school alumnus, suna grown accustomed to his tricks, both on and off the court. 

"who knew ya’d get y/n all the way here as yer personal cheerleader?” atsumu sighed somewhat blissfully, but with the way he said it, you could’ve guessed that he was either being sarcastic. envious, or perhaps even both. his eyes gravitated towards you, trying to locate you in the crowd. once he did, atsumu winked (much to your confusion), and he glanced back at suna, pointing to you for emphasis on his previous question.

“c’mon, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“it’s not that big of a deal,” the blond mocked rather quietly, out fear he could get a nasty look from the referee, his coach, or even worse, the club’s captain, meian. “yeah... right. do 'ya know how many people date their significant others ever since high school?”

“...a lot?” suna’s answer seemed more like a question, yet really he never felt so impatient for the referee to whistle for the rally to start—sure, he sometimes tended to slack off during volleyball games, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be stuck talking to atsumu. what’s taking them so long?

“WRONG,” he practically yelled, than covering his mouth at the sudden outburst before his eyes darted towards the referee right above them, his coach on the bench, and most importantly, meian to the side, before sighing in relief at the confirmation that no one had actually heard him. “it’s less than two percent.”

“what?” 

“i said-”

“-ever.”

the setter’s hand shot up to his chest in dramatic agony while the middle blocker simply rolled his eyes. 

“why is what’s going on in my love life so important to you, out of all people?” 

“don’t think i didn’t see ‘ya goin’ all goo-goo eyes at them! at this point, i wouldn’t be surprised if someone who didn’t even watch the game heard about it!”

suna’s face went blank at atsumu’s exclamation. “okay, and...?”

“do i have to spell everything out for ‘ya?” atsumu shook his head as if suna ‘just didn’t get it.’ “what ‘ya have is special! if i were ‘ya and had someone like y/n, i’d prob’ly already have two kids with them at this point!”

unfortunately, much to suna’s better judgement, he couldn’t help but agree with the man in front of him. he believed—no—he knew that what he had between you was special, that even after a few life times after his current one, he still couldn’t find someone that was able to give him the same butterflies just as it felt a few years prior. 

before he could further ponder on atsumu’s words, the referee finally blew their whistle, effectively starting the rally as the current server (who suna forgot his identity) delivered a loud ‘SMACK’ against the ball as it soared above the net, the players on the other side scrambling to get their positions as some stayed behind in order to get the ball up.

attempting to get comfortable as his role as one of the current blockers, his fox-like eyes immediately darted towards the jackals’ setter. who did he think was the most viable hitter against him and his fellow teammates beside him?

following the blond’s eyesight, suna sprinted to the location so he could block the spiker ahead of him, leaped, then stretched his arms upwards and across the net when he reached the height, and with the help of with the other man participating in the block, managed to prevent msby’s #4 from scoring on their side of the court. 

“STUFFED!!” the sportscaster announced over the intercom, a wave of cheer filling the arena.

passing the ball back and forth rather intensely continued for at least an hour and a half or so, to the point that it looked like as if all the players that were on or were playing on the court practically sweated a whole swimming pool. though suna doesn’t play an all-around rotation (courtesy of komori and the other starting blocker, washio), even he already felt the effects of fatigue take over his mind.

it was currently the third set: one more to go before the jackals win the whole game without any trouble—well, not really. the past two sets were annoyingly close, yet somehow the black and gold team managed to always gain those two points ahead from his team’s score. 

the other side was equally as tired as the raijin, maybe even more so attributable to their hitters (particularly a certain #21) flying all over the place like gigantic fruit flies. however, for some reason, that didn’t stop them for trying their goddamn hardest to get those last few points to win it all. it was painfully obvious to watch, especially since they were on the receiving end o it, but surely their exhaustion would soon keep up with their athletic abilities such as suna and his team?

before he knew it, the board displaying the current scores of the game were set, the red lights emitting from it felt as though it was mocking suna. 

23-24.

one more point until the match was over for the jackals and more than three for the raijin. the blocker mentally groaned at the sight, but if he could just stop whichever poor hitter was in front of him, it would give their team could turn the game around-

“yo,” atsumu greeted, smirk plastered on his face as he found him and suna right in front of one another yet again. 

“what is it this time, atsumu?” suna asked, though it came off more as a complaint than a question. surprisingly, the setter didn’t seem to take it as an offense.

“i say we propose a bet,” he responded, making suna’s face twist up out of cringe at the wordplay. 

sighing, knowing he probably wouldn’t shut up even during a rally, the blocker decided to humor him. “what?”

a brief silence broke out between the two men, after a few seconds of atsumu blinking his brown eyes repeatedly, he continued. “if we win, yer gonna have to propose to y/n-”

“no.”

“c’mon! you didn’t let me finish! anyways, if ‘ya win, yer gonna have to wallow in the fact that ‘ya lost the love of yer life ‘cause you chickened out into proposin’ to ‘em.”

it was basically a lose-lose situation, with the way atsumu was putting it. on one hand, suna would be forced to ‘pop the question’ at the least romantic place, and on the other, the circumstances that the setter suggested seemed favorable if you looked past the dramatics of it... suna wouldn’t have to do this in a rather public setting and actually be able to do it when the both of you were comfortable.

the familiar whistle cut in from atsumu’s little impatient “check-in,” and with a final, knowing gaze, he went to make use of his hands, holding them in a similar manner that suna did while looking back at his side of the court, where msby’s #12 was up to serve. 

it all went so fast—in one moment, he saw komori behind him bumping the ball up without much difficulty, and the next, he was falling from the air, where meian was before him, grin spread across his face out of overwhelming pride. as the two of them reached the ground, the crowd above them roared in joy, the blaring buzz of the scoreboard just barely peaking through, yet still more louder inside of the ejp raijin’s heads than countless of spectators ever will be.

exchanging the usual courtesies towards the jackals, listening to the coach’s advice and remarks about their game, and cooling down via stretching and some refreshing, ice-cold water, suna began to search for your presence; to no avail, you were nowhere to be seen amongst the bleachers. 

before suna had the chance to think of a rational explanation to reason with your disappearance, a voice presumably at the nearby announcers table just a few feet away got on the intercom.

“would suna rintaro please make your way down to the broadcasting table?”

it took a(n embarrassing) while for the blocker to register that the person on the mic was not one of the sportscasters but in fact, atsumu miya himself.

strolling his way towards the table, attempting to look casual as possible and conceal the fact that he scared shitless at whatever shenanigans atsumu was up to after what previously let down, suna approached the table only to be greeted by a microphone and a piece of paper shoved into him by a certain setter, some rather pissed commentators, and a very puzzled you, most of all. 

“rin... do you know what’s going on?” you asked, quirking your eyebrows while looking around yourself repeatedly like atsumu did, worried that you’d get in trouble since usually onlookers weren’t allowed down at the court itself. even though he assured you this was fine, you still couldn’t help but feel a bit concerned. 

suna’s breathing hitched for a second, making the microphone peak and attracting the attention of the people watching the game, the majority of which were still hanging around with the intention of meeting their favorite players or something along the lines of that, not whatever mess that could possibly happen any minute now.

ah, crossroads. something that the young man didn’t expect to happen in his life, especially regarding taking his romantic relationship to the next step. there were three possible outcomes to this: one is that he could completely ignore this, making this seem like some sort of cruel prank, two was to straight up say whatever was on the paper and propose to you, then you rejecting him creating unneeded humiliation for the both of you, and three was to the same thing as two, but have it result into the best possible scenario: you saying yes.

2/3 of those outcomes were pretty negative, meaning around a 67% chance that this go absolutely wrong. it didn’t help that suna couldn’t get a read on you at the moment, mainly since you had no idea what atsumu set you and him up to do.

aiming to stall some time for himself, he palmed the slip of paper just before it escaped from his chest, flipping it over only to find that in messily scribbled black ink a barely legible “marry me” was written on it.

deadpanning at the sight, suna was quick to crumble it up and toss it away from him (hopefully landing on atsumu), with hazel eyes staring into yours as the words that atsumu said earlier echoed in his mind. 

it was now or never.

“y/n...” he began, wincing at the fact that he heard his voice over the intercom after forgetting that he was broadcasting this. “i... well, someone recently told me that what we had between us was... special. that if they had someone like you, they’d probably already have two kids at that point.”

suna chuckled as recalled the words, taking a step forward towards you, his eyes glancing to the ground so he can make this proposing thing more easier on him. 

“...and i agree with them. y/n, you make me feel special every waking and sleeping minute i spend with you by my side, and i only hope that i do the same for you.”

you stood speechless, and since he really wanted to get it over with, he knelt down on one knee, taking one of your hands and encasing it with his, a soft smile gracing his features.

“marry me...?”

𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐬𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚. ･ﾟ: *. — 澤村大地

going out with some of his fellow high school alumni after a long day at work to down a nice, cold beer was something that DAICHI found himself not looking forward to quite recently. 

what wasn’t there to like? there was nothing more reassuring than the dim light illuminating the establishment above him and his friends laughing as they drank and ate their fill at their regular food booth. 

however, it wasn’t the drinking that the officer cherished the most; it was the relaxed atmosphere of the small bar. daichi’s friend’s from high school around him, the familiarity of it all that made him feel that this was something he had been doing all his life, and of course, you.

you tended to work later shifts than daichi, so you’d normally come join the group for their little impromptu ‘high school reunions’, as sugawara dubbed even though they do this practically every weekend. 

this time around though, your job required you to be kept around even more later than usual, to the point you weren’t even sure if you could make it to the ‘high school reunion’ at all.

and boy was daichi relieved that was the case.

“YOU GUYS HAVE BEEN DATING FOR HOW LONG??” suga’s voice boomed throughout the place. if it weren’t for the fact that this was a normal occurrence for the teacher when he a bit more than tipsy, the brunette would’ve more than just embarrassed. 

who was he kidding, daichi was flat-out humiliated.

“n-nine yea-”

“NINE YEARS??”

at this point, sugawara’s annoyingly loud voice when he was drunk attracted many stares from people that were either their co-workers, neighbors, fellow regulars, and friends, all blatantly invested at this man’s (that they knew practically forever) love life. 

“yes, suga—nine whole years, wow...” despite the massive blush daichi was currently sporting that definitely wasn’t caused by alcohol (as seen by his yet to be touched glass in front of him), the sarcasm in his voice didn’t fade as he half-heartedly did jazz-hands in mock amazement. 

even when his friend was drunk, the police officer didn’t understand why the length of his relationship with you was that surprising—the two of you started dating in your third year of high school, and with everything going on during his early twenties, him going off to the police academy and you going to college, it wasn’t exactly the best idea to get married when the both of you just fled the nest and were barely financially stable to boot. 

however, sugawara and the rest of the eavesdropping less-than-sober patrons didn’t seem to clock both of that. 

“nine whole years, hmm?” an older man inquired, a lazy arm was draped around daichi’s shoulder, shaking him around. with a breath that reeked of beer and a familiar, deep voice, it didn’t take his time in the police force to figure out the man that seemingly appeared out of nowhere was his old coach, ukai. 

he wasn’t sure if his senior’s forced intervention would be considered lucky or not; on one hand, it actually shut suga up from asking the same question for the fourth time, but on the other...

“you oughta propose soon, yeah?”

“aww, wittle sawamura-kun and wittle l/n-chan finawwy tyin’ da knot~” the guy sitting besides ukai, whom daichi recognized to be the owner of the electronics shop down the street, takinoue, slurred his words so much that it could bring the kids sugawara taught to shame. “ain’t dat cute... y’know, l/n’s quite da catch, yeah? if y’aww weren’t datin’ for so wong, i woulda snatched dem up for myself!” 

though daichi was mostly thinking about how ew, a man less than twice his age joking about dating his significant other, takinoue’s laugh bellowed as some others joined in to create a chorus of drunk guffaws, chortles, and other ridiculous synonyms of the word ‘laugh’ while also gaining even more people’s attention, much to the former’s absolute mortification.

“hey! we’re supposed to be helping daichi!” sugawara joined back the conversation, now looking rather irritated that these two old coots disturbed the flow of his incessantly repeated questions, he glanced back at his friend, his expression now completely serious.

daichi gulped. 

“now, continuing with what i was saying after i was so rudely interrupted, are you gonna pop the question?”

though what the grey-haired man was asking was actually ukai’s question, the previous rowdiness and high volume of the crowd was now quiet, to the point it could be seen as suspicious. the people packed into the tiny, little bar were like a ticking time bomb, except the fuse would be replaced by daichi’s words alone.

he couldn’t exactly lie and say he wasn’t planning on proposing to you, knowing the people around him and the nature of their small town, word would spread like wildfire. and if he did tell the truth, well, daichi couldn’t guarantee that the exact same thing wouldn’t happen. 

the officer knew that you were most likely weren’t just going to believe any town gossip on the street while running errands; that still didn’t change the fact that he didn’t appreciate the bar occupants encompassing him spreading the latest, juiciest information on his relationship status.

in other words, there was no getting around this. 

sighing, his chocolate brown eyes gazed upon his shoes, muttering in a voice that resembled more of a complaining grumble, “...yes.”

just like that, the bar erupted in cheer, causing daichi to instinctively covered his ears at the sound. he definitely wasn’t any doctor, but if this keeps up, he could guarantee that along with the head-splitting hangover many of the patrons are going to get the next day, their vocal chords would be fried to the point that they couldn’t even speak. to be honest, he was surprised that his co-workers didn’t already drive up to the place due to their sheer noise disturbing the rest of sleeping neighborhood.

“looks like we gotta get sawamura a ring, huh?” ukai exclaimed, tightening his grip around daichi’s neck and effectively (and unintentionally) putting him in a chokehold. 

“ugh- you do know you can get arrested for aggravated assault against a police officer?” he managed to cough out. he didn’t exactly like pulling out the empty detainment threat, but daichi didn’t want to end up actually taking his high school volleyball coach into custody, especially in his drunken stupor. “besides, there’s no need.”

with a flick of his wrist, his hands did a slight disappearing act inside his jacket’s pocket for a velvet box to materialize inside his very hand. another thing he also didn’t want to end up doing was making a bunch of intoxicated people waste their hard-earned cash to buy him a ring when he already possessed one.

much like sugawara’s elementary school class, the newly found audience that surrounded he and daichi’s table, they all collectively ‘ooh’ed and ‘ah’ed. ironic, really, since half of them were old enough to or did have a kid old enough in the grey-haired man’s class.

“ah, just like the daichi i remember!” suga animatedly laughed, adding to the current pain his friend was going through by slapping him on the back rather aggressively. “always prepared for everything!”

“yeah, i- ow-” he was cut off by a fierce blow to his back, causing him to shoot a glare at sugawara’s direction. “quit it!”

daichi’s hand bolted to suga’s arm, swatting it away as he stored the hand that held the box into his pocket once more.

“aww, you’re no fun...”

“dat won’t help!” takinoue interjected, much to the teacher’s vexation. “since we’ve got da wing... we gotta help ‘im!”

“y’know takinoue... that’s literally the smartest thing you said this whole night,” ukai bluntly stated, though his drinking buddy didn’t seem affected in the slightest by his off-handed remark.

“alright, then who’s with us?!” sugawara yelled to catch everyone’s attention (as if it wasn’t already directed at them).

once again, the place practically exploded in enthusiasm, alcoholic drinks spilling all over like makeshift fireworks (bless the poor owner’s heart).

“geez, i think i heard you guys a block away,” your sudden entrance caused many heads to jerk their heads so hard toward the source of your voice that you were honestly worried they got whiplash. eyes widening at the sudden attention you garnered and the quiet atmosphere that was definitely not there a few minutes earlier made you quirk an eyebrow in confusion. “did i miss something...?”

eyes (including yours, though mostly because everybody else’s was) moving towards daichi at once, and with a (not really) reassuring pat from sugawara.

reaching the limit of embarrassment (as if he hadn’t already) he could handle from his fellow customers, in a desperate attempt to escape the bar, he swiftly clasped his hand around yours, yanking you towards the direction where he was headed to lead you outside of the place, right outside the big window separated the cool, relaxed atmosphere of the establishment to the world outside filled with the orchestra of crickets at the distance and the humid, warm climate of a summer night of their hometown.

“someone’s in a hurry,” you joked at daichi’s actions, and instead of him flushing or wincing sheepishly, instead he let out a deep sigh scratching the back of his head.

“remind me to never walk into there ever again...” he complained, letting his neck arch forward and pinching the bridge of his nose after recalling everything that went down recently. 

“they’re not that bad.”

“then you haven’t seen anything yet.”

you laughed jovially, making daichi’s expression soften at the sound. you always seemed to relax him no matter what. 

however, it abruptly stopped the moment you spotted a sudden audience from the window from your peripheral vision, them staring at the two of you like owls. before you could even point at them and open your mouth to address the elephant in the room, the police officer cut you to the chase.

“you know how they are... if we go as much as the ends of the earth itself, they’d follow us just to see what we’re up to.”

“well, you’re right about that... but that wouldn’t be the case if something normal was going on...” you had an accusing tone laced in your voice, and daichi could’ve sworn that you put on some invisible detective hat on your head. “so... you’ve got anything to say?”

giving the crowd beside you two a side-long glance, his chocolates brown eyes slowly made their way towards yours, letting out a deep sigh. “guess like there’s no way around this...”

before you could react to display your perplexity, daichi coughed for a bit, signaling you to at least hear what he was about to say. 

“y/n... we’ve been together for nine years,” he slowly started. “throughout that time, we were both busier than ever... but despite that, we still stuck with each other, and... well...” 

daichi paused to laugh to himself mainly because he felt as though the mood was getting a little bit too tense and awkward than he originally perceived it to be. “i really, really am in love with you, and as cheesy as it sounds... i don’t think anything could top that.”

his knee finally made contact with the ground, he brought out the box from his pocket, presenting it to you.

“i can only ask... do you feel the same way?”

𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐚. ･ﾟ: *. — 宮治

onigiri miya was livelier than ever, to say the least. 

the restaurant was practically packed to the point it might be nearing or already is as max capacity, and it didn’t help the fact that a famous setter was sitting in his quote-unquote “reserved” food booth, attracting the attention of many more customers than usual. 

the stress was basically written on both you, osamu, and staff member’s foreheads with black sharpie—and it was more than justified. the line spilled in from the door outside, after all. one false misstep could cause the dissatisfaction of potential patrons, meaning bad reviews, and that it could only go further downhill after that. 

regardless, this wasn’t the time to focus on the potential repercussions of what could happen if you messed up the tiniest details of an order; you really should be focusing on trying not to mess up so the the establishment won’t suffer said potential repercussions. 

you were the first employee that was put under osamu’s payroll when he first opened onigiri miya. you knew him and his twin brother quite before it opened, and when you went into university looking for a part-time job, you took a job under your boyfriend. to simultaneously support him while also getting some money as well. 

to see his restaurant being so successful was a truly wonderful sight to witness, especially since you there since the very beginning. even though your time to graduate university was nearing, you still planned to hold on to your job, maybe even get a posistion full-time.

for now, you’ve got to focus on trying to package the onigiri before sending it out to the customers outside of the kitchen. 

meanwhile, osamu was starting to feel quite annoyed conversing with said customers. 

“wait, aren’t you that setter on the national team??”

“ATSUMU MIYA?!”

“aren’t you supposed to have blond hair?”

“i’m pretty sure i’ve seen you on tv before...”

it was really nothing above a superficial level. really, he was used to it. they were twin brothers, after all. comparisons and mistakes were bound to happen.

however, that didn’t mean that there wasn’t a tick mark appearing on his forehead everytime this gets mentioned which tends to be rather well-hidden with the customer-friendly grin plastered on his face. 

as a patron finished their conversation with osamu, he made his way towards the kitchen behind the counter, away from any clients. then, he let out a heavy sigh, blowing on his cap2.

“long morning?” you jokingly asked, looking up from your work as your partner gives you a playful side-eye.

“don’t get me started,” he replied, osamu’s grey eyes staring down his apron as you laughed. 

“well then, keep your head up, miya osamu,” you practically commanded, forcefully grabbing his head and staring into his grey eyes as they reflected the top half of your face. “the rush is gonna be over before you know it! next thing you know, you’re gonna be complaining about the lack of business again like you usually do.”

the owner of the shop cracked a smile at your encouragement, sharing a small, quiet ‘moment’ before being interrupted by one of your co-workers. 

“miya-san? table seven needs a server.”

the man let out yet another heavy sigh. table seven was the booth that atsumu tended to frequent the most. as much as he loves his brother, under the his current workload, he was definitely not in the mood to whatever antics the setter was up to at the moment.

“y/n?” osamu immediately looked towards you, something you might as well be used to by the amount of times he relied on you to talk to his twin, whether it was to serve their little “messenger” when they weren’t on the best of terms or to deliver some sort of prank, the practice made you make their phones inferior in comparison. nevertheless, osamu was technically your boss after all, so who were you to disagree and say no?

(well, honestly, if you did say no, osamu was whipped enough to begrudgingly go and serve atsumu’s table anyways, but i digress.)

“...fine,” you answered, deeply sighing to mock your boyfriend (much to his dismay). your co-worker tossed you up a white paper bag packed to the brim with onigiri as caught it with your hands.

you walked away from the two to “enter” the restaurant. retying your apron around your waist with the paper bag still in hand, you did a short survey of the establishment. it didn’t really take very long; it wasn’t hard to trace the directions of numerous of people’s eyes to find atsumu. 

strolling towards him, the man’s brown eyes appeared to be glued to his phone below him, though he somehow noticed your shadow growing closer to his general area from the floor. 

“finally... what took 'ya so long?” atsumu grumbled, still scrolling through his device. “i swear i gotta do everythin’ ‘round here...”

your smile spread across your face for all the wrong reasons. if it wasn’t for the fact he was osamu’s brother, you would’ve bit back your less than tasteful insults. yet, before you could open your mouth, the setter cut you to the chase.

“thank me later, ‘kay? now, gimme the onigiri,” atsumu reached out his arm with lightning speed quickly snatched the bag with his meal while just as swiftly chucking at you with a small box just barely larger than some of the said onigiri he just robbed from you. 

of course, since you just stood there in pure shock for a good few seconds at the sheer audacity of him, you ended up playing a game of hacky sack by yourself with the box before finally palming it with both of your hands.

casting your gaze upon it, you noticed it had an oddly soft texture against your hands. it pretty clear that atsumu had absolutely no clue that you were there instead of who he thought was going to be waiting his food booth, but you couldn’t help but grew curious over the contents of the box.

taking a brief glimpse of his current position only to find he was chomping down on the still steaming hot onigiri, you decided that it couldn’t hurt to take a peek at what’s inside. perhaps it his weird idea of saying “thank you,” for whoever he believed was attending the table. 

squinting your eyes to get a better look, you cracked open the box as something shiny shone through. refusing to get affected by the seemingly blinding light, you further continued your investigation, and with the minimum required attention to detail, you were able to instantly deduce what was inside.

“um... atsumu? i’m flattered...?” you weren’t sure what was the correct nomenclature for such a bizarre scenario such as this one. “but you do know i’m dating your brother, right...?”

“huh? of course i know that-” atsumu halted in his tracks as he tore his eyes away from what he was previously doing, jaw dropping and mouth agape when his eyes finally registered that you were there. though previously aghast that you would accuse him of making a possibly life-changing romantic move on someone who was already taken, much so by osamu, his voice was quick to falter that he was the wrong person who gave you the box. “i- uh...”

“hey! sorry for botherin’ whatever ‘ya and ‘tsumu were doin’ but i need some...” osamu trailed off once he clocked what was going on. “...help.”

though the more customers more farther away from you three’s general area continued eating and chattering amongst themselves like usual, you guys seemed to create a scene, ending up being the cynosure of many of the patrons.

osamu liked to think that he was somewhat reasonable, at least more so than his brother, but though their differences can easily be found out, both with first expressions and getting to know them better, they were still rather similar to each other at the end of the day as a product of how they grew up. 

so, without thinking about the possible repercussions this could cause to his relationship, he grabbed the velvet box from atsumu’s hand, and started walking towards you.

“y/n... if i’m gonna be honest, yer one of the best things that ever happened to me in my life,” osamu smiled, the words falling out of his mouth naturally as he knelt down on one of his knees, his ‘onigiri miya’ cap casting a shadow over his eyes as he secretly hoped it masked the many emotions trying to process through his brain at the same time. 

the restaurant around the both of you fell suddenly deathly silent, the only sound other than the distant cars honking and driving past the place outside was a small gasp escaping from your mouth. 

“...an’ i wanna keep that in my life... forever,” osamu then presented the unboxed ring to you, his hat no longer concealing his silver eyes, which was now swimming with nothing but love and admiration.

“l/n y/n, may ‘ya do me the honor of bein’ my ‘forever’?”

𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 <𝟑

#𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞.! #𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐲𝐮𝐮!! 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞.! #suna x reader #osamu x reader #daichi x reader #kenma x reader #kenma kozume x reader #rintaro suna x reader #osamu miya x reader #daichi sawamura x reader #kozume kenma x reader #miya osamu x reader #suna rintaro x reader #sawamura daichi x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq!! x reader #hq x reader #suna fluff #kenma fluff

[griefabyss69]

For the Drabble request- rockstar eddie based loosely on the song city of angels by Demi Lovato ;))

There was no way this was going to fit in under 1K!!! Based on the song and on the whole ass universe we've cooked up <3

[Drabble request series on ao3]

---

2.8K words - Steddie - Rated: E

Contains: Exhibitionism, humiliation (he's into it), public sex, sex on stage, audience participation (verbal)

I'd say this requires a general suspension of disbelief LMAO, just have fun!

Eddie fucking loves to perform, whether it was back during his humble beginnings at shitty dive bars or on a big stage with Lights, Cameras, and recently, plenty of Action.

He didn't think he'd ever be performing like this in particular, but the life he's lived has never ever gone the way he used to imagine it, each year bringing something newer and wilder and usually a hell of a lot scarier than he planned.

So when he and Steve finally get their shit together, when Steve starts to get more and more daring as he uses his puppy dog eyes and his beautiful mouth to sweet talk him into doing crazy shit like wear a plug onstage, or to get him rock hard through his tight pants before kissing his cheek and shoving him out on stage, he just rolls with it.

It's fine, he can deal with the embarrassment of some people knowing, putting two and two together – tabloids and paparazzi photos turning into interviews where he and Steve get to tell the truth and control their narrative a little – that when Eddie starts off the night already red faced and sweaty and oh, hard enough to cut glass, it's Steve's fault.

The reception they've been getting has been warm enough that Steve gets bolder with every show this tour, and finally one day all of their previous discussions of him coming out to say hi to the audience come to fruition – Steve not only kisses him in front of the cheering crowd, but grabs his ass too, fingers pressing against the seam of his jeans to see if he can push on the plug inside of him.

Eddie has to pull the mic away from their faces so he can moan into Steve's mouth without thousands of people hearing it.

After that, the audience reception is, well, hot.

Steve loves to take the mic, rile them up, get them chanting for him to touch Eddie or tell them an edited but super dirty story about what they've been up to, and despite how legitimately embarrassing this all can get, it has Eddie more horny and in love than ever.

One night during the LA leg of their tour, Steve's not actually around that much as Eddie and the guys prepare for their set. He sees him whisper in the guy's ears and sees everyone exchange nods before he runs off again, making a phone call or talking to security or to the cameramen.

He can't lie, it has him on edge, considering every other time Steve's been up to something it's always been an escalation of their little game.

And you know what, call him paranoid, but he was right! He usually loves being right, but when Steve cups a hand to his ear to signal the audience during the band's intermission, Grant tooling around on his guitar to give the crowd something to listen besides Steve asking "What was that?" into the mic, he gets a feeling that this is going to be one of those nights that changes his life forever.

The audience yells a lot of things. Steve hadn't actually prompted them with a chant yet, but he just laughs into the microphone, slotting his eyes over to Eddie who's still panting from the screaming backup vocals of their last song, the beaming smirk on his face filling him with dread and the kind of lust that would have the devil on his knees -

He says, his eye contact sharper than his teeth -

"You want me to fuck him?"

The audience explodes into a wall of sound and Eddie feels just a little dizzy, his ribs crushing his lungs even as his ass clenches around the plug Steve asked him to put in earlier.

"Hmm…" He says, drawing it out in a tease. "I mean, I did ask the staff if I could, do you know what they said?"

The incoherent answer from the audience is drowned out by the pounding of Eddie's heart in his ears, as he's stuck there, frozen, hands getting clammy against his guitar.

"That's right, they said as long as you all behave – you know, follow the rules, tip your bartenders handsomely, and take lots of pictures – then I'm allowed to!"

Eddie knows he should start breathing or running or begging or something, but the part of him that loves to stew in his own humiliation has his feet bolted down to the floor, desperate to find out if this will be anything like the fantasies he'd seduced Steve with back in the day.

"You motherfucker," he croaks out, the sound lost before it even gets past his lips.

Steve laughs, throwing his head back in something like pure joy before he stalks over to him, raising his eyebrows, the twitch of them so familiar that Eddie can tell that he's serious about the whole thing, realizes that this is why he was whispering to his band mates earlier.

After that, things happen fast.

Steve drags Eddie to the center of the stage, a few feet away from the edge, stage lights bright and focused on them as he takes Eddie's guitar and hands it to one of the guys. Eddie knows he's got a stupid look on his face right now, not able to play off this off as the usual slutty shit he does for the performance, wondering if it's worse that he's in front of all of these people, or in front of cameras that are going to capture this on fucking tape.

His dick is throbbing.

Fingers move his hair out of the way so Steve can whisper in his ear, his teeth grazing the shell just to pull a shiver out of him, and he can barely hear him telling him that if he wants to stop he just has to say the magic words.

Eddie reaches back and grabs Steve's thigh, squeezing it once. He understands, and despite how the feels exactly like a cold-sweat nightmare, he's into it. Of course he's fucking into it.

It's like he blinks and his pants are down to his thighs, his dick springing up to slap his stomach and he can feel the cheering from the audience, buzzing through his skin. He has to swallow a moan already, finally finding enough air to make noise, unable to ignore the fact that he's exposed even as Steve's easing the plug out of his ass. He goes to cover himself with his hands but Steve's there already, pulling his arms behind his back to tie his wrists together.

It was never really like this, when he imagined it.

Maybe he'd thought Steve would just tug the back of his pants down and slide in, let him grind into his own hand or maybe even his guitar, but that was fucking stupid, he knows Steve doesn't do things halfway. Hell, he's surprised he didn't strip him off completely, the thought making him shudder and tilt his head back against Steve's shoulder.

Steve grabs the mic stand beside them to tip it in close, voice rough and deep and Eddie can tell that this is also one of his wildest fantasies.

"Should I turn him around for you?"

Eddie lifts his head to gape at him, shaking his head. Steve winks at the audience and presses a kiss to Eddie's cheek, smacking his ass lightly.

The audience starts chanting "Show us!" and Steve loves to give them what they want, and so Eddie finds himself facing the back of the stage while Steve gets an elbow over his spine and makes him bend, fingers digging into his ass cheeks as he spreads him open for everyone.

He could cum just from this, he thinks, face burning. Sweat drips off of the end of his nose and he watches it hit the floor. Despite the heat of the lights, the air in the venue is cool against his ass, making it hard to focus on anything else.

Steve's fingers tease at him and sink in, making sure he's all nice and lubed up and stretched out for him. The moan that it pushes out of him is loud enough the microphone picks it up, just audible over all of the cheering.

His dick is leaking on the floor by now, joining the sweat drops, and Steve's pulling him back upright and turning him back around before he can really feel sorry about the mess they're making.

"Alright, I hope you enjoyed that," Steve's saying. "The guys are gonna play a nice song for us, right Jeff?"

Eddie hears Jeff laugh into his mic and he squeezes his eyes shut, wondering how much of this they all planned behind his back.

"Of course we are! Though, gotta say," Jeff says, and Eddie can hear his smirk. "We've never done music for gay porn before. Eddie, you good to sing on backup for this?"

What?

Eddie looks up at him, about to shake his head but Steve plants the mic stand in front of him and he wants to melt like ice cream down into the floor.

"Of course he is," Steve murmurs into the microphone over Eddie's shoulder. "You all should hear it, he moans in key."

There's a hand on his hip, Steve's dick at his ass, his teeth on his neck, and then -

Steve bites as he sinks into him, already pulling a rough sound out of his chest as the band starts to play a song that Eddie usually has a sick solo in, and he misses his guitar for a moment before he kind of forgets about it. Steve's hand is firm around the base of his dick and he doesn't bother easing him into things, just starts thrusting hard and fast like Eddie's the instrument, matching the explosive intro of the song.

Any plan he had to control what comes out of his mouth has flown off like a paper airplane on the wind at this point, Steve's mouth and his hands and his dick taking him apart so seamlessly that he wonders if his moans are drowning out the lead vocals or not. Surely the sound guy is in on all of this, will figure out how to mix them so it doesn't sound bad.

"Stop thinking," Steve murmurs in his ear before biting it.

Yeah, thinking. He's thinking.

"Open your eyes, look how many people are watching," he says, and Eddie wishes he had something to bite on just to help the tension that's got him feeling like he's going to burst right out of his skin.

He does what he's told though, cracking his eyes open against the bright lights to try to look past them, seeing the glint of the professional cameras and a vague sea of people, including a pit full of people dedicated to moshing even though Eddie's getting fucked like ten feet away from them.

"Alright Eddie, use your manners," Steve's saying into the mic, voice breathy as he keeps thrusting, lighting him up hotter and hotter each time his hips slap into him.

Eddie bites his lip, shaking his head. He's almost there, but until then he's not about to beg in front of everyone. This is humiliating enough, something he's going to be thinking about like a brand directly in the back of his mind for maybe forever.

"No, you don't want to? Everyone's being so well behaved and you want to be rude to them?"

"No, fuck," Eddie moans, squeezing his eyes shut. A little more.

"Then be nice, babe," Steve says, huffing a laugh against the side of his face.

He kisses his cheek again as he tightens the hand on Eddie's dick.

"Fuck, sorry," Eddie gasps, tugging at whatever's tying his wrists together. "Please, Steve."

"Please what? And I'm not who you have to beg…"

Eddie can feel his grin against his skin, teeth pressing into him.

"Please, let me," he swallows, tries to catch his breath, skin flashing hotter than ever. "Let me cum."

Steve groans, pounding into him faster. The drag of his dick inside of him has lightning curling up his spine, his lower back starting to feel more like a pool of endorphins rather than an amalgamation of tissue and bone.

"Should we let him cum?" He asks into the microphone, and the wall shaking noise from the audience seems like a yes to Eddie. He laughs. "I don't know, I'm just not sure? What do you think Eddie?"

"Fuck," he gasps, arms shaking where he's fighting to get them loose. "Please, c'mon, I'm going to-"

He cuts himself off but the audience gets the idea, starts up another chant.

"Let him cum!" Is going to ring in Eddie's ears for eternity.

He thinks that's a clear enough answer as he tries to grind into Steve's hand.

Must be to Steve too, because he loosens his grip enough to start stroking him, fist getting soaked as soon as it reaches the tip, the wet slide of it enough to send him over the edge before he can even make a sound.

Hot cum splatters over his chest as his spine arches back against Steve, feeling his fingers press hard into his hip and then more hot cum is shooting into him, pulling a reedy sound out of his throat as he pants for air. It's so good that he forgets about the humiliation for a moment, nothing but him and Steve and the band and thousands of people all frozen in the half minute it takes Steve to make him shatter apart against him.

Between the stars in his eyes and the lights and the way he's struggling to keep his eyes open, he has to give up on finding which way gravity goes so he can stand up and start dealing with… everything they just did. He buries his face in Steve's neck as best as he can and finds a good spot to bite him, hard, before backing off a little.

Steve gasps, still sounding rough and slutty, his dick twitching in Eddie's ass before he starts gently pulling out.

"Yeah, you loved that, didn't you?" He asks, and Eddie isn't sure if that's for him or the audience.

He just mumbles a "yes" into his shoulder while Steve works the plug back into him, trapping his cum in there. It feels good, despite the pounding he just took, despite how Steve gets him to brace himself on his shoulder while he pulls his pants back up, despite the beaming of the stage lights and how everyone's learned what he looks like when he cums.

Steve doesn't tuck his dick back in, just lets it hang out of his open fly, and Eddie bites his lip against a whimper, looking for the knots on his wrists. He's still not fully soft, the cool air and the cameras pointed at him keeping him worked up enough that he's still twitching.

"Be patient, babe. It's not like you're showing them anything new," Steve says, laughing as he brings his fingers to Eddie's mouth.

He sighs, shooting him a glare before opening up, letting Steve play with his tongue before he cleans them off.

Steve gives him a few minutes, gets a bottle of water from somewhere – one of the guys probably – and presses it to his bottom lip, letting him drink until he's finished with it and then dumps it over him, cooling him down.

He can't help but laugh, even as the cold water feels like a shock through his shirt and on his poor dick, making him finally start to get soft.

"Alright Eddie, what do we say to the rest of the band?" Steve asks, bringing the mic to his mouth.

Jesus Christ. Is he not satisfied yet?

"Um, thanks guys. Sorry my boyfriend is power hungry. Hope my uh, singing? Was good," he says, trying to sound like he doesn't want to shrivel up in embarrassment.

Steve laughs, hugging him from behind.

"And what do we say to the audience?"

Eddie tries to glare back at him, and then glares at the audience.

"You're welcome," he says, and Steve smacks his ass.

"That's what they should be saying," he says, holding the mic in front of Eddie's mouth until he gives in.

"Fine," he sighs, unable to keep the smile from creeping onto his face. "Thanks for putting up with all of this. Hope you liked it?"

The audience roars and Steve unties him, finally satisfied. He uses clumsy fingers to put himself back together, his dick safely back in his pants as he heads on shaky legs over to where his Sweetheart rests in it's stand, picking her up and slinging her strap over his shoulder.

"Alright, see you at the next show!" Steve yells before putting the mic stand back where it belongs, waving to the crowd as they cheer him off stage, blowing a kiss to everyone in the band as they start in on the second half of their set.

Yeah, Eddie doesn't think he could've imagined his life going in this direction.

#griefabyss69 writing #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #drabble requests

[davidfarland]

David Farland’s Writing Tips — What Are Your Best Practices?

The art and craft of writing is mysterious. Why does one thing work for Joan and not for Dave? That’s a good question. My son Forrest helps counsel writers who are having problems, and a few weeks ago he mentioned something that he’d noticed. Time and again, he’d talk to authors who had been on fire at some point in their careers, writing away joyfully, but now found themselves stuck. So he’d ask them a few questions to find out what had changed.

The answers tended to be amazingly simple. One woman, when brainstorming a novel, used to write her notes down in a notebook and think about them. But when she switched to a word-processor, she found it hard to brainstorm. Why? Who knows. She suspected that it was because she felt more relaxed with a notebook in her hand. She didn’t have to worry about blinking cursors, power outages, and the demands of a blank screen. So Forrest’s advice was simple: use your notebook when you brainstorm.

Another man found that he just couldn’t get started. There was a time when he would get up in the morning and write in order to start the day. But now he automatically answers his emails. I could explain to him about mental states, and how writing requires him to be in the alpha state while answering his email put him in the beta state, but the answer was simple: don’t open your danged email before you write!

Another writer I know used to sit up late at night and put on acid rock while he wrote, but when he got married and had a baby, he was afraid of keeping his wife and children awake, so he switched to writing without music in the morning. Suddenly, he couldn’t find the words he wanted. The answer: he needed to listen to his own personal biorhythms and write at night. A pair of headphones solved his need for loud acid rock.

This problem strikes over and over. A few months ago, I started the Apex Writers Group. When the Covid19 pandemic hit, I noticed that a lot of writers were stressed and not producing.

I began trying to get them to huddle up and get back to work. I recognized that there are a lot of phases to writing: brainstorming, drafting, editing, and so on, and I suggested that we start “Writers Rings”. In a writers’ ring, you get several people who are writing in the same genre and have them share audiences.

But I wondered whether it would be good for them to work in close-knit groups. In addition to just advertising to each other’s audiences, I realized that they could brainstorm together, for example. So a fantasy writer living in the wilds of New Zealand could suddenly be brainstorming with other fine writers in her field, the way that Tolkien and Lewis did it in the Inklings. For those who have trouble self-starting, we could have writing sprints, so that authors can get on and maintain a writing schedule. Again, if the authors want to, they can have critique sessions where they look at one another’s works. They can even advertise together--start blogs together, share cover quotes, train each other in how to use electronic advertising well, and so on.

Suddenly my writers are killing it. I think I’ve seen them release 7 novels just in the past week, and some of the writers who’ve never completed a book are suddenly putting “the end” to their first novels.

And I noticed something yesterday: the writers who are getting the most done are the ones who are doing it all together—having brainstorming sessions, participating in sprints, critiquing together, and pushing their books together.

I hadn’t expected that, but then I got thinking. Back when I first began writing, I too joined a writing group that kept me focused and kept me writing like mad. We were all trying to figure out how to make it in the speculative fiction market. We’d challenge each other and celebrate one another’s victories. I remember how fun it was to brainstorm in groups, and how fulfilling it was to find out how well a scene worked in a critique group. Eventually I had an editor tell me to “quit wasting your time with writing groups. You’re way beyond that.” Yet, what I had been doing was working fine, so now I ask myself, why exactly did I change?

As I consider this, I can think of dozens of professional writers who are under-performing for much the same reason. They started out in a writing group, went solo, and suddenly found that their work went flat and they weren’t creating as much. In the music industry, we see singers doing this all the time. The lead singer in a band goes solo and suddenly discovers that without the drummer who was writing most of the band’s songs, he goes bust. Without the lead guitarist who was always pushing them to do more gigs, he falls out of the limelight.

So there may be group dynamics involved in many authors’ success stories. Do you find that your productivity isn’t where you would like it to be? So ask yourself, what has worked for you in the past? What best practices have you abandoned. Maybe its time to retrace your steps.

For more on David Farland's Writing tips, visit https://mystorydoctor.com/writing-blog/

And you can also click here to get your David Farland Daily Meditations.

#writing tips #writing advice #writing help #writing tips and tricks #author

[sadlynotthevoid]

Has anyone read "Becoming popular through the "All Villains" variety show" (link to english ttl here)? Because it's fcking hilarious.

Anyways, I love the concept of a show were all the participants are hated infamous people who got invitations to said show based only on how much they're disliked. I also love how the audience gets so inverted on them, despite how they were watching just to laugh at them at first.

And that made thought, what about a modern fantasy lcf au where ogCale gets selected to go to a show like that one without his knowledge?

The world would be more like lcf/pre-war tboah world, but with more technology and entertaiment culture on it. Like, magic just dance, arcades for all kind of races, various magical music related devices (not, it's not me wanting ogCale to dance, shut up), economic versions of record tools, etc.

And the audience of that program would be not only ordinary people, but higher beings too. I was thinking of gods, but you can put constellations if you want too (i know little to nothing about orv, so, it's up to you). I was thinking that the interaction with the audience would work kinda like that, floating messages and stuff.

The selection of the participants would be:

Half of them are chosen by voting of that world's habitants. That's how ogCale got selected. Some people (dirty nobles) thought it would be funny to watch him make a fool of himself, the rest (normal people) jumped on board because curiosity or for fun and giggles.

The other half are voted by higher beings and habitants from other worlds that have access to the show and system for whatever reason. Adin is one of them. In part because they want him to suffer, in part because they want people from there to TAKE A DAMN HINT.

Idk about the others participants, maybe some ocs, maybe other characters. Some of them actual bad guys, some of them not (that) bad.

Some shenanigans we could have

•The show requires their participants to live there until the end of the season. So, Cale draggs Hans to stay with him because he needs a babysitter for his cats. Cue, Hans, On, and Hong mocking Cale everytime they appear.

•At the presentation of the participants, Cale, face in blank, stares at the camera with the most dead gaze, and says "I was brought here against my will", takes a sip of a bottle, "basically abducted" completely calm. He's drinking tea, btw. He doesn't drink irresponsiblely infront of his kids.

•The host of the show trying to convince Cale to try whatever challenge they have to do. He goes from reasoning to pleading to bribing him, because Cale won't try it unless he thinks it's fun or he can get something out of it.

•In this AU, Bassen was already named official heir of the count title and Cale had taken care of his corrupted relatives some time before the start of the show. So, he doesn't need to act like trash anymore. He didn't say anything tho. He's just doing whatever he wants, but he's kind of a loner by habit. It's difficult for him to low his guard around people (besides the kids and maybe his siblings). However, as a result, whenever something is happening, he's just commenting the wildest or sassiest things from the side. Or the front. Doesn't matter what's happening, he states facts as makes observations as if he wasn't involved whe he pretty much is.

•*Wild poisonous lizard monster appears from nowhere*

The other participants: *panic, fight, fly response*

Cale: oh, look, it's prince Adin's cousin.

The host, from the safety: ooh, you seem to have quiet a problem there.

Cale: yeah, they have two poisonous reptiles now.

•Cale's bs detector went off from the very first moment he saw Adin. He doesn't know what's up with that guy but he doesn't like it. He tries to avoid him at all cost and pulls the petiest shit towards him at the same time.

•Adin: Nice to meet you. I'm—

Cale: —going back to the other side? Yes, please do that.

•Everyone noted that the trashy young master dislikes Prince Adin, but no one knows why. So they start making up theories and trying to reunite hints from their interactions. The most popular ones are A) the childhood friends-to enemies one, B) the one about them being love rivals for Prince Valetino's hand, and C) the one about them being rivals for Prince Alberu's love.

•When the host asked about the matter, Cale response was—

Cale: hm? Oh, he just buzzes my bs detector.

Host: I— what?

Cale: My bullshit detector. Have you ever met someone and just, immediately realized that everything that comes from their mouth is *beeep*? That you must not trust on them, no matter what? That's it.

Host:...I see. Out of curiosity, how precise is your, uhm, "bs detector"?

Cale: it has never been wrong. There was this time—

•The Soo's are part of the "habitants from other world" group. Choi Jung Soo is the most active one out of the three.

•Cjs outted himself as Choi Han's nephew by accident. Cale's instant remark— "Choi Han, come pick up your kid". He knew cjs was an adult.

•Venion ended up as one of the program's contestants due to some anonymous people spamming votes to mess with him. Just kidding. The culprits are the Henituse siblings + Hans. Bassen was mad at him, so Cale suggested it. Lily joined because "it's not fair that they have fun without her". Hans recorded everything for later.

•Alberu likes to watch the show to distress.

---------

That's all what I have for now. Feel free to add more or write it.

#lcf #original cale henituse #lcf au #lcf fic idea #becoming popular through the all villains variety show #henituse siblings