#i might have forgotten to add some things but this is all I can think of rn

[too-young-to-ber]

Drrr-kuramerukagari post ketsu swap au

Basically iseya/eiwajima switching places with izaya/shizuo

I’ve never really posted abt things before and this is the first time I’m attempting to write abt something in such detail, so please bear with me🥲

I want to emphasize that this is all post ketsu but prob before sh and sunset novels bc I’m literally ignoring some characters.

Iseya is shocked to find himself in a wheelchair, looks for the one person he knows and trusts, eiwajima, only to find someone slightly different, in appearance and also behavior. When they meet he looks at him like he’s grown a second head, the wheelchair shocks him too but he also wasn’t expecting izaya to just appear in front of him with no purpose. Iseya just looks at him, comments on the hair that while he does look good blonde he prefers his natural brown.

Shizuo thinks he’s playing games so he shouts and takes a step closer and they’re both shocked to see izayas body tremble. Iseya gets glimpses of the battle in his head, his mind repeating the events over and over again and he understands. They’re not together, they’re hardly even friends. They’re enemies. How he can’t even begin to understand, how he could come to hate this man? He’s so much like eiwajima, just with sharper edges.

He takes a look around people are staring and whispering, some recognize them both and think they’re gonna get into a fight. He doesn’t like hearing them talk, despite his love for people he doesn’t really want to be seen right now, not in front of him like this when everything’s so complicated but also not. He doesn’t really know what to do now. He wanted to confine in the one person he knew he could talk to, but that person doesn’t exist the way he does in his memories.

Shizuo doesn’t understand what’s going through the fleas head but he can see him thinking. He almost looks sad, which is weird because izaya would never show emotion, especially not to him.

Iseya understands their rivalry more or less because despite everything it’s still them, so he tells him that he remembers him differently but he doesnt want to hurt him. He wants to learn more about him. He doesn’t know how long he’ll stay here or even how he came here, but he knew from the start that something was different. And so if he’s gonna have to stay here it’ll be with this alternate version of eiwajima, whatever their past may have been.

Shizuo is dumbfounded but agrees bc this guy, whoever he is, seems much easier to get along w than izaya, or maybe it’s just a side of izaya he never got the chance to see. (Or maybe in the very back of his mind he’s actually still playing games w him)

After talking (he realizes that this being a lie is too much of a stretch even for izaya) he feels sad to find out that they exists somewhere and they’re together, they’re friends they talk and laugh and are happy. Iseya, he calls himself, tells him about eiwajima and how he is, what his life is like and he is so jealous of his alternate self because he really is living the life he’s wanted since he found out he had this cursed strength.

He feels this loss, that he could have had that if he tried hard enough. The voice in his head telling him that eiwajima makes iseya feel good while he put izaya in a wheelchair. Eiwajima has wooed iseya while he scared izaya away. He really wonders if he has anything in common with the guy, but he must because iseya is staring at him like he’s holding the sun.

Iseya kisses him at some point and shizuo finds he doesn’t know what he’ll do when this guy leaves because he’s really enjoying their time together.

Alternatively if it’s eiwajima switching places, he’s rather confused at the hair and doesn’t like hearing people talk abt him while he walks, it seems they have nothing nice to say and they all avoid him like he’d crush them with his glance.

Of course he seeks out iseya only find a wheelchair bound man who feels like iseya but has a very unsettling vibe. He is obviously wounded if the wheelchair wasn’t enough to go by but apart from that the man freezes at his appearance and is trembling.

He immediately realizes that they don’t share the same relationship and past he knows to be true. What’s more they not only don’t get along but things have escalated between them so far that he’s managed to traumatize the man before him.

He doesn’t know what the best course of action here is, he doesn’t want to speak for alternate him because he doesn’t quite understand the extent of their situation, but “iseya” looks at him with such hatred and demands answers that he quite frankly doesn’t have.

He decides to come clean bc he couldn’t pretend to hate him even if he tried. He explains who he is and what he actually wanted by coming here and alternate iseya is so confused. He starts ridiculing him and it does kinda piss him off but when he accidentally punches a hole through the wall in frustration and “iseya” freezes again all his anger goes away.

He tells him that he cares about him. That despite what they’ve been through here he misses iseya and wants to see him. He tells him that they’re alike in some ways and he finds them endearing and wouldn’t trade what he has w iseya for anything. That they’re happy.

Izaya looks so bitter and hates that what this fake Shizu-chan is saying actually makes him want it, he realizes that he might be jealous and gets pisses bc as if he’d be jealous. He tells fake shizu that fake him is prob just lying to him and actually hates him but he’s hiding it to use him for his own advantage, bc that’s what kind of person he is really and if they’re anything alike then that’s what’s gonna happen.

Eiwajima just gives him a sad smile (which pisses izaya off even more). He knows what the words mean, that the world he’s describing, his home, is making the other man emotional. He strongly and confidently says that iseya loves him and he knows it. It’s not possible to fake their kind of love, and he doesn’t mind being used by that man, they love eachother and that’s all that really matters.

Izaya has never hated anyone more than this man before. He’s so much worse than shizu-chan bc he doesn’t get angry, he doesn’t react to anything he just sits there, spouts all this nonsense and looks at him like he’s actually in love w him and he really doesn’t know how to get out of this situation, he doesn’t want to be here but he’s so incredibly curious abt their life. He knows this guy is telling the truth but he refuses to believe it bc it seems so dreamlike and unreal, he can’t fathom being happy as described, much less with this man.

Eiwajima wants to stay with him, despite the fact that he didn’t actually do anything to bring this man such pain he still sees the emotions swimming around in his eyes and he wants to help him. Despite the fact that it’s not his iseya, it’s still this worlds version of him and that’s enough for him to try and fix whatever they have going on, or at least help in some way. He tries to get close, as close as he’s allowed and talks about whatever he remembers from his home, all things almost always leading to iseya of course. He tries various topics hoping the other will come in at some point and they’ll have a normal conversation, as normal as it can get anyways.

Izaya eventually does, they talk like they’re friends. Izaya can’t comprehend what’s happening but he’s trying not to think about, fake Shizu-chan is interesting, he likes hearing about this world of theirs and his life there, he realizes that he’s having a casual conversation and it’s easy too he’s easy to talk to and listen to. He’s enjoying this more than he originally thought he would. He wonders if his Shizu-chan is this nice to be around when he’s not throwing things at him, which he knows is probably true, he just has never been on the receiving end of shizuo’s kindness. However this “eiwajima” he’s very charming, and he can’t seem to look away from those eyes.

Idk where this is going but yeah I just want them to find out abt their alternate lives separately and cry abt how miserable they are. Maybe they would try to find each other and start over (in a sense) after this happens so they can actually make a happy ending for themselves (or a happy new beginning)

them actually swapping places makes it hurt more since they’re inserted into this foreign world. They would both be shocked to find their supposed enemy sleeping next to them and the ppl around them liking them, I don’t think they’d ruin anything, well maybe izaya would try depending on what would happen but I don’t think he’d would want to make these ppl hate alternate him even just to spite him bc they prob wouldn’t, I mean they know what he’s like and they like him so…

shizu would be so shocked to see ppl liking him random ppl not afraid of him but wanting him around, he’d be afraid to talk to them so as not to hurt them. And then as far as their relationship goes they’d be happy but also sad that they can’t have it.

Overall it would mostly be sad (bc as it seems I love angst), heartbreaking really, to see what they could have had but weren’t as lucky as the other two. There’s a lot of reasons as to why the two of them never really got the chance to get along (which I’m not gonna get into now bc that’s a whole other story and lots of ppl have already made theories on it) but I think that seeing versions of themselves happy and well is like a slap in the face bc had their circumstances been different they could have had that, had they tried to do things differently they could have had something similar.

This has been in my head for a while (post ketsu usually is on repeat) and I really had to get it out bc it’s too much, and it turned into a whole ass essay🥲 this is the first time I’m attempting this tho so pls don’t look into it too much, it’s a mess of thoughts that I can’t quite put together. I apologize if there’s any mistakes or holes in it, it’s def ooc so yeah…

Thank u to anyone who decided to read it and made it this far! If theres anything anyone wants to add pls go right ahead I’m starving for these boys. Thanks again for reading! 🥰

#durarara #kuramerukagari #shizaya #eiwaseya #shizuo heiwajima #izaya orihara #iseya #eiwajima #eiwazima #idk which one is correct for his name so I’m tagging both #I’m sorry this is so long #but I had to GET IT OUT #it’s been in my head nonstop since I saw the movie #i might have forgotten to add some things but this is all I can think of rn #I’m so in love with them it’s not even funny

[heritageposts]

i saw the trailer for the new feel-good “anti-racist” US war movie about the carpet bombing of North Korea and started writing up something for this blog, partially inspired by the absolute shit storm i got for sharing that post i made with pictures of everyday life outside pyongyang

and then i gave up, because what’s the point? westerners can’t even handle a single picture of a north korean not looking miserable without screaming propaganda

meanwhile, there are no stories about the horrors of life in the ‘hermit kingdom’ that are deemed too outlandish to be believable. i can’t remember who said it, but it’s like the entire country has taken up permanent residence in the western imaginary as some silly little cartoon villain, where the leaders of the country does evil things for no discernible reason. they’re just silly and evil like that, and the citizens, of course, are silly, too. silly and brainwashed.

i watched a video recently of a tourists visiting an auto dealership in pyongyang, and the entire time he was just gawking at the employees and costumers, shoving his phone in their face, and confidently explaining to his youtube audience that everyone he’s interacting with are actually actors.

what level of dehumanization do you have to reach for that thought to even cross your mind? to think that the people you see before you are actors? that entire cities and shops are erected with to sole purpose that you, a western, will see them and be impressed?

what frustrates me the most is the casual cruelty that seeps into any mention of north korea, no matter how small. if north koreans are not being evil, they’re being silly.

a north korean newspaper reports that a group of archeologists in pyongyang have discovered an old rock carving with the words ‘unicorn lair’ (mistranslated), and the western press reports that north koreans now believe in unicorns.

a tourist at a hotel in hamhung is told by the receptionist to be careful at the beach: the waves can get high. that day the tourists goes to the beach, and there are no waves. she retells the story to her instagram followers, explaining that the poor woman at the hotel could never have seen real waves before because north koreans are probably never allowed to travel.

she adds a little teary-eyed emoji.

one of the cities i included in the post was sariwon, a densely populated city to the south of pyongyang. below are some pictures from its “folk customs street”, which was built to showcase old korean traditions and customs

here’s all wikipedia has to say about it

Built to display an ideal picture of ancient Korea, it includes buildings in the "historical style" and a collection of ancient Korean cannons. Although it is considered an inaccurate romanticized recreation of an ancient Korean street, it is frequently used as a destination for foreigners on official government tours. Many older style Korean buildings exist in the city.

it’s just north koreans being silly again. there’s no mention of what might motivate them to build a street like that — why the preservation of old customs, culture and architecture might somehow be important for the city

could it perhaps have something to do with how the U.S. air force dropped 635,000 tons of bombs, including 32,557 tons of napalm, over the korean peninsula during the war? the carpet bombings, which are now the topic of an upcoming hollywood movie about overcoming racism through warcrimes, destroyed an estimate of 85% of all buildings in north korea. some cities were entirely wiped off the map.

in sariwon they missed a few buildings, but not many — after an intense firebombing campaign the U.S. military estimated the destruction of sariwon to be at 95%.

none of this is mentioned on the wikipedia page for sariwon.

we destroyed entire cities. memory-holed the entire thing, called it the forgotten war. and now, 70 years later, we’re convincing ourselves that the people living in the ruins are actors.

and somehow the north koreans are the brainwashed ones

#forgive me lord for i am posting #to all the 'hate the government not the people' freaks in the notes #i'm coming for you next

[broodingheroine]

list of weird things I want to hear in a case file in tmagp:

baker (or just a person making their own bread) getting progressively more paranoid about the bubbles in their sourdough starter being sentient

teenager on some sort of social media talking about how the clothes pile on their chair looks at them in the dark

very cliche tree branch shadow tapping on someone's window in the middle of the night but it's actually an evil tree

I want more haunted theaters. It can never be overdone.

musician finds the one out of tune key on their piano deeply disconcerting to the point of obsession

someone gets a splinter and can't quite seem to get it out..... they keep digging for hours

avalanche. being stuck under the snow and not being able to tell which way is up.

story of someone who got stuck in an office building all alone and couldn't find the exit but there's just enough details similar to the oiar building that it freaks someone out.

worm sex part 2: electric boogaloo

someone with frost bite who couldn't stop rubbing their arms even though the skin was getting shredded from the ice particles :) flesh

everytime someone gets their picture taken, even if it's a candid, the result is them staring dead into the lense. even if they were turned the opposite direction when it was taken. they avoid cameras now.

someone's voice cannot be recorded and they start to question whether or not they're real.

furbiez.

someone who realizes everyone they've ever known has forgotten them. kind of an inverse not!them where they're the only one who knows themselves.

apartment complex finds body in their water tank, people had been drinking corpse water, one of the tenants obsesses over it and starts putting more bodies in the tank to get the ✨️flavor✨️ back.

love induced cannibalism and I want that shit genuinely romanticized. like i want it portrayed as if it's the most reasonable thing on earth to consume your loved ones.

time loop. except the person in the time loop is there so long they get desensitized and start just having fun with it. the time it finally stops looping is when they've done the most heinous thing they could think of and then they have to live with it.

might add more if they occur to me

#tmagp #the magnus protocol #some of these are goofs some of them are things that genuinely disturb me #guess which is which

[loveinhawkins]

picturing Dustin watching at the trailer park, right after Eddie says, “Hey, Steve? Make him pay.”

And for some reason Dustin’s reminded of ‘84, of his conversation with Steve on the railroad tracks, it’s like before it’s gonna storm, you know? You can’t see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh... electricity, you know?—although he’s grown enough to suspect that Steve might not know everything in that regard.

And it’s not electricity he senses, not exactly, but it’s definitely a storm of some kind: something fragile. Something—someone—that’s very scared.

Dustin’s running before he’s even registered his decision. “Steve!”

Steve turns around, and he already looks like he’s about to ask a question—something practical, like whether Dustin’s forgotten something—and Dustin feels a twist of regret, that that’s where Steve’s mind goes; yeah, they’re all ready for battle, so it makes sense, but…

Feeling suddenly very young, Dustin barrels into Steve and hugs him.

He hears Steve’s surprised inhale, his hesitancy, before he returns the hug in full force.

For a little while, it’s like the world narrows down to only this. No ash in the air, no nightmarish red in the sky. Just the two of them.

Dustin’s about to pull away when he feels Steve’s chin dig into the top of his head. Hears him sniff, very quietly, like he’s trying to hide it; and that makes Dustin think of the tunnels, or afterwards, really, when Steve held onto him with shaking hands, kept saying, “We’re okay, we’re okay.”

So he just keeps hugging back.

Steve’s the one to let go; he’s smiling, but he looks a little sad too, forehead creased with worry.

“I need a ride tomorrow,” Dustin says.

Steve huffs. “Oh, yeah? Where to?”

Dustin taps his nose obnoxiously. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

It’s bullshit, of course; Dustin doesn’t need a ride anywhere.

Steve rolls his eyes, but some tightness in his jaw finally eases. “God, you’re such a dick.”

“Bright and early, Steve!” Dustin adds smugly. “Five am!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, waving him off, and for a moment it’s like they’re just in the school parking lot. He looks as if he’s about to say something else, then thinks better of it—glances back to where Robin and Nancy are waiting. He pulls Dustin in with one arm, a brief but tight hold. Nods, as if to himself. “Go on, scram.”

Dustin runs back to the trailer with a stitch in his side but a smile on his face. He knows it’s naive to think he can fix everything, but in this moment at least some part of the universe has been righted, even while in The Upside Down.

Eddie’s standing right where he left him, like he’s been frozen the whole time.

“Hey,” he says quietly. “is he, uh… is he okay?”

Dustin’s reminded that of course, Steve isn’t the only one who’s scared.

“Yeah, he will be,” he says, which he thinks is a more accurate answer than a simple yes or no.

It’s funny how life works, he muses while gathering supplies for the trailer defences. There’s no way he’d have thought even a week ago that Eddie would be sincerely asking him about Steve’s well-being. Whenever he happened to bring Steve up at Hellfire, Eddie would imitate him in a comedic falsetto, “Oh, Steve this, Steve that.”

For a minute, Eddie remains rooted to the spot, still staring in the direction of where Steve went—like he’d watched helplessly as Steve walked into the eye of a storm or something.

“You just gonna stand there and gawk?” Dustin says.

Eddie snorts. “So rude, Henderson.”

And it’s not like Dustin really knows, not when Steve and Eddie are still barely dancing around it themselves. Still, he can pick up on some things.

Like when they’ve finished setting up everything, waiting for the go-ahead for Eddie to start playing his guitar—to pass the time, they recount the high points of the day, keep it light. It’s a practice Eddie used to implement after campaigns.

And look, Dustin’s damn good at picking up on patterns. Like, he loves Steve, but he’s pretty sure the reality of him driving the hotwired RV doesn’t quite match up to how Eddie’s currently waxing lyrical about it.

He’s making it sound like it was something outta James Bond, Dustin thinks, when he’s sure Steve drove right into several trash cans.

Suddenly he knows exactly what he should do.

“Steve this, Steve that,” he sing-songs.

Eddie flushes; Dustin cackles.

“Fuck off,” Eddie says, but he’s smiling as Dustin keeps laughing, like he knows there’s nothing mean-spirited in it. He keeps going, Steve this, Steve that, talking right over Dustin’s teasing—somehow finding even more moments where Steve truly shines.

And Dustin doesn’t know everything, not even close, but at the very least, he knows that this feels right.

#i just love writing perceptive Dustin #think it’s partly the thought that “you’re my brother and I love all of you” #steddie with dustin’s pov #dustin henderson fic #steve and dustin #eddie and dustin #steddie #pre steddie #steddie ficlet #implied steddie #steve x eddie #dustin henderson ficlet #dustin henderson #steve harrington #eddie munson #henderfam

[luveline]

Hi love, i would love to see more of spencer x stripper!reader. Hope u are doing good <3

hi thank u, u too! ♡ fem

You press the heel of your palm to the shower tiles, head hanging and hair soaked to the scalp. Rivulets of hot water and soap suds slick their way down your front. 

“You okay?” 

Spencer's voice through the door, a better warmth than any luxurious shower. “Sorry, I'm getting out!” 

“No! No, stay in there if you want, I'm just wondering.” 

You force yourself out of the shower and into a towel. “I'm getting out.” 

“I have some clothes for you,” he says, “I can leave them by the door.” 

You wrap the towel tightly around your chest and step to the door. Spencer's startled face is on the other side, smiling nervously, a bundle of clothes held to his chest. 

“They're my friends. My coworker. Penelope? I asked her first and she said she doesn't mind at all. They might not fit, but…” 

“Thank you. You and Penelope.” You hold out one hand. Spencer passes you the clothes through the cracks of the door and you shut it, maybe unnecessarily. 

Spencer's seen you in various states of undress, but it isn't privacy that's worrying you tonight. You can't help looking over your shoulder, wondering if someone's watching you for a split second of madness. 

You pull on your borrowed pyjamas. A little Japanese cat winks up at you from the pants, the shirt a baseball tee with pink sleeves and a white body. Cute, you think. Penelope must be fun. 

Spencer's in the kitchen making two mugs of tea when you emerge. It's the herbal flavour you favour, steam billowing from the rims like clouds in the cold air. Your long walk in the rain is nearly forgotten by your skin if not your pittering pulse. 

“You okay?” 

“I'm fine.” 

“You sure?” He doesn't give you time to answer, carefully placing the two mugs on the coffee table, before tapping a gentle hand to your shoulder. “You wanna sit down?” 

“I'm really fine, handsome, it's … it's not the first time someone's followed me home.” You smile falsely. 

“That's not okay.” 

“I know.” You point at your cup of tea. “Can I?” 

“Of course you can,” he says, sitting beside you on the couch, leaving a more than chivalrous gap between you.

It's not a gap you want nor need, and after a few sips you've warmed enough to sidle closer to him, in touching distance, and then touching. Thigh to thigh, you watch the tops of his cheeks turn a pretty, blurry pink. “I was scared,” —your knuckles touch briefly to his knee— “but nothing happened. So don't worry about me, Dr. Reid, please.” You layer your voice with a sweetness that comes with seduction, a playfulness to mete his sudden regression into timidity. 

“I worry about you all the time.” He smiles, at least, so it isn't a burden. 

“I worry about you, too.” 

“I know you can take care of yourself, I just can't help thinking about the statistics. I know exactly how likely it is that something bad could happen to you, and it's not that you should worry, I don't want you to be scared, but– it's like, it plays on repeat in my head. It's– I'm not trying to–” 

“Hey, handsome,” you murmur, giving his leg a shy squeeze. “I know. It's dangerous and it's unlikely at the same time. And it feels silly talking about it.” 

“But silly not to,” he adds. 

“Yeah. I know, Spencer, I swear.” 

“I know you know,” he murmurs through a smile. 

“I know you know I know,” you joke back, smiling back sunnily. It doesn't take much of him to cheer you up. Ever since the day you met, he's been like a balm for your rampant aching, a brown-eyed, pretty-handed sweetheart. Whether it's sharing a seat on the train, or meeting up for dinner at the Indian restaurant behind his apartment, or just calling each other on the phone, he knows what to say to fix things. You forget your life, and you get to be with him instead. 

Spencer puts his mug of tea down to hug you. You'd known he was going to. It always happens like this, the two of you together, drinking tea and showing each other just the smallest fraction of each other's hearts. He presses his nose to your cheek as his hands run down the length of your back, and all you can think about is how he knows nearly everything about you and he holds you voluntarily.  

“Love you, Spence,” you mumble into his shoulder. 

“I love you too. I'm here for you, okay? I don't care how scared I am, I love being your friend.” 

You try not to sigh. Friend isn't necessarily what you want to be, but he'd let you in when you buzzed without asking why you were dropping by, and he'd held your gaze as you explained the man who'd been following you, your dead phone, your superglued shoes fallen apart in the typhoon. Spencer's everything a person could ever need. Dependable, vulnerable, sweet, kind, patient. He's pretty in every facet of the word. 

“Is it really that scary?” 

“Thinking about guys following you home?” he asks, rubbing your back gently. “It's terrifying. Weren't you terrified?” 

You blink back the sudden heat of emotion behind your eyes. “Um,” you say, higher than you mean, “uh, it wasn't–” You shrug, but your hands feel shaky and strange. 

Spencer's voice softens, “Hey, it's okay. I'm sorry.” 

You try not to think about what might've happened. When you realised there was someone following you, you didn't think, oh, he'll hurt me, you thought, I need to be faster. I need to get somewhere they can't. 

You needed safety and Spencer was the first, safest place. 

“I'm sorry for coming here.” 

Spencer pushed you away from him without malice, his hands on your arms. Alarm rings his eyes, eyebrows rising, “What? Why would you say that?” 

Because you didn't sign up for this. Because I'm me, and you're you, and you didn't have a choice, you were too good to let me be without you. 

Because, if you think about it, Spencer is more than safety to you. 

He doesn't baulk at your silence. “Hey,” he murmurs, thumb rubbing into the soft skin inside your elbow sweetly, “you like it here, don't you?” You nod. “Then– then who cares why you're here?” 

Spencer pulls you into his arms again. “You'll feel better in the morning… I'm gonna get you a new phone.” 

“What? Why?” 

“Cos that one's always dead. You need to be able to call me when you need me.” 

You smile into his shoulder. “You're not buying me a phone.” 

“Watch me.” 

You don't cry in his arms, but it's a weirdly close call. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[thatsdemko]

without you there’s nothing to live for - l.norris

masterlist

pairings: lando norris x fem!reader

warnings: jealousy + insecurities + fluff + build up(kinda long I’m sorry about that) + some errors here or there

a/n: while I had bits and pieces of this work in millions of other lando drafts I think I have to give credit where it’s due to @userlando and her anons ☺️🫶 I’m in such a shit mood so i figured posting this might make me feel better. enjoy xx

Lando Norris was annoying. a childhood friend of yours that somehow stuck throughout the years and never seemed to vanish. he was like a a piece of gum stuck to your shoe, he just never left.

and while you’re thankful he’s the longest lasting friendship you have; did you fail to mention he could be annoying?

his hands drum against the kitchen island, a distraction worthy of you flicking your pencil in his direction, but he’s too quick the pencil would just end up behind him, so you result in throwing him a very pointed look that shuts him up.

“is that pencil up your ass too today?”

you give him another look before staring down at the empty grocery list you failed to create, because lando has claimed your flat as his flat. the lavish lifestyle penthouse was abandoned at the instant call of your arrival to Monaco, and now all of his expensive taste clutters your space.

“did you put eggs on the list? I need eggs. it’s good protein—“ he shuts up to the sound of you breaking the pencil in half, another annoyed look tossed his way.

lando could be a lot. but there was no one who could keep up with you. there was no one like him in your corner, and while he pushed your buttons you were eternally grateful for his loyalty despite your rather jaded friendship.

“let’s just go to the store? I’ll drive.” he says like there’s another alternative to the store. ever since he got his license and moved in, you’ve never even put your foot on the accelerator. you’ve almost forgot the thrilling feeling of driving.

“eggs have been added to the list.” you finally say, typing up your notes of a grocery list once you were finally able to think straight without lando tapping away or chatting your ear off.

god was he annoying, but you loved him for him.

—

his wallet funds are bigger than what you have. you feel guilty every time he buys, but it’s not like you have the funds to do so. he knows that guilty look across your face when he ends up paying for 10% groceries and 90% female hygiene products. he doesn’t mind, just shoves his card in the machine and says a thank you for the person who bags your things.

“you have to let me pay you back—“

“no, nonsense.” he cuts you off, the conversation goes like it always does. you beg, and beg, to try and wiggle in a payback, but he refuses. all those years of your parents giving him shelter, taking him to races, or letting him play in your backyard it’s the least he could do.

“but the price adds up, and you’re paying for most of the rent—“

“I won’t have this conversation with you. just get in the car.” he says it without letting you have another word in. it’s his turn to shoot you down with pointed looks every time you try to mention money.

“y/n?! is that you?”

lando’s heart nearly drops to his stomach at the sound of that voice—that voice, being your ex boyfriend. he came out of nowhere, like the stalker he is, and finds himself walking around lando’s spiffy mclaren with wide eyes and confusion at your presence with the formula one driver. he must’ve forgotten lando was your best friend.

“you going to introduce me to your new boyfriend?”

before you can protest lando shakes his hand. you can tell by the grip lando has on him it’s a firm hard handshake. one to prove a point about the 2 a.m calls of you crying to your best friend from across the world. he was a shitty man, and maybe showing lando off like that would put him in his place.

“this is lando, you guys met awhile back.” you say.

you watch the two of their eyes glimmer in the sunlight with hatred for one another. lando was the guy you told him not to worry about— and he still was— and he was the guy lando was desperately wanting to kick ass.

“don’t remember that.”

“I actually remember, didn’t you spend half the night snogging another girl?” lando’s gentle reminder makes your ex’s face flush pale. you watch a little smile lift to lando’s lips before you both excuse yourselves to head home.

“my new boyfriend is so cool.” you say in a sarcastic tone once it’s just the two of you in his car.

lando let’s out laugh, and just puts the car in reverse. the simple act makes your head spin. his hand reaching behind the head of your seat, the way his eyes quickly glance on you before he looks back to ensure no one is coming. these thoughts were never present until this run in. would lando be a good boyfriend?

you can’t help but explore those thoughts in the twenty minute car ride home in pure silence.

your mind wanders to the idea of waking up to him in your bed. his legs tangled with yours, lazy soft kisses pressed your cheeks. you could melt at just the thought of it.

or maybe he’d make you eggs. you’d wake to the smell of bacon grease and him shirtless—like he always is in the kitchen— creating a masterpiece meal that you devour in minutes.

what switch has suddenly changed in you? because now when you look at lando, your heart does things it never did before. your head spins of ideas of him as your boyfriend and it’s so sickening you could throw up.

“I’m going to unload the groceries, you’re more than welcome to sit and stare into space for as much as you need.” his words spook you. a little yelp escaped your lips that he’d caught you. your eyes bug wide—like they always are when you get into your daydreams— and mind so full you lose track of time and often forget your surroundings. you had no clue you’d been sitting in the driveway this whole time.

“where do you want the tampons again? I seem to forget.”

“under the bathroom sink please.”

you wonder if you can shove your thoughts under there too. a nap is needed to clear your mind of whatever seems to be boggling it all about lando.

—

a nap certainly did help, however, waking up to lando shirtless in your bed also napping? yeah, all that hard work of suppressed thoughts came right back.

you think about taking your finger and running it all over the divots, curves, and muscles of his body. you think about how much stronger he’s been looking lately and how the little hair on his chin is growing onto you. what is going on with you?

it was common for lando to come in your room and sleep with you. nightmares were rare for you, but they happened more often than you expected and lando always wanted to be there for it. but this was just a nap? why did he have to come in and sleep with you? he could’ve just slept in his own bed, that certainly would’ve helped your heart if he did.

you roll out of bed and tip toe around your bed, until your heart makes you stop. you stare at his peaceful state. the way his curls fall over his forehead, the thick long lashes you desperately want, the soft smile on his lips— his eyes are opening, shit, you think to yourself.

you quickly book it out of the room to save yourself from the embarrassment of him catching you watching him sleep. what a creep you were becoming in the matter of hours. this is why you shouldn’t like your best friend. hell, this is why you shouldn’t let your man best friend live with you. it was destined for one of you to fall in love.

but it was also destined for you to most likely get your heart broken.

lando doesn’t date women like you. you’ve seen his roster of women rotating in and out of your place, none of them looked like you: an average woman with average looks. who’d want that?

a little part of hope lingers in your chest when you see him enter the kitchen. his lips press against your temple as he mumbles a good morning.

“how was your nap?”

“not long enough.” you admit watching him type away on his phone. his elbows are pressed against the granite counter tops, his fingers work vigorously against the screen. a little smile appears on his lips that make you nauseous. it could just be max, but it could be another girl.

almost two hours ago this wouldn’t of mattered to you. you wouldn’t of cared if lando invited a girl over and you stayed locked up in your room, but now all of a sudden it’s bothersome.

“what’s got you all smiley?” you ask, partially out of curiosity but partially to just kill your heart with his response. he sets his phone face down on the counter resting his chin in the palm of his hand, “max is coming over, and so is pietra.”

“exciting.” you grin, though the words disagree with your expression making his face drop with worry.

“are you worried max is going to take your best friend spot? he could never, y/n.”

best friend. yeah, that’s all you’ll ever be when girls like ria and pietra exist. deadly beauty that could put a man in his place. when was yours ever going to show up?

—

you’re tipsy off the expensive bottle of wine max brought. your body is pressed against lando’s for support as you all laugh about something max said. you can’t help but wrap your arms around his strong bicep, resting your head against his shoulder listening to pietra expose Max’s recent mess up.

lando doesn’t take notice in the way you’re seated. he knows you’re beside him based off the heat that radiates off your body. you always got overly warm when drunk, and sometimes a bit too affectionate, but he didn’t mind. he actually loved it when you wanted to be beside him.

“so when did this happen?” pietra points her finger between you two, a bright smile pressed against her lips as she cozies herself up to her own boyfriend.

lando clears his throat. he practically yanks his arm out of your grip leaving you to fall back against the cushions beside him. you hide your face into his back out of embarrassment suddenly becoming aware of how you two look. “oh umm—“

“oh gosh! I’m so sorry. I think it’s the wine talking in me.” she quickly apologizes, a blush filters her face similar to yours.

“it’s not the first time today that’s happened.”

“do tell,” max sits on the edge of his seat listening to lando explain the run in, your face is still pressed into his back. you’re hoping that maybe if you just stay there you would disappear into thin air or end up in your bedroom sound asleep away from all of this.

“I still want to kick that guys ass—“

“wait,” pietra cuts off max, her voice demands all the attention in the room. you pry your head from out of lando and peer behind him at her, “you didn’t even tell him you are just friends? you let him assume that you’re dating?”

lando’s mouth opens and closes. nothing seems to come out making max throw his head back in a laughing fit, “oh god! I owe ria money for this, you like y/n!”

Lando’s face is flushed red, a similar color to the glass of wine in his hands. there was nothing he could say. he couldn’t even protest it when it was true. he hadn’t even realized he never corrected your ex boyfriend, because truth be told, he wanted to be shown off as your boyfriend.

“come on pietra, let’s leave these two alone.”

they leave as quick as they came, leaving only the half full bottle of wine for yourselves. you both sit in silence, no one musters up the courage to speak.

you both get ready for bed like nothing happened. the awkward silence eats you up. you want to speak up and tell him you feel the same, you want things to go back to normal. you just want annoying lando back.

when you finally finish your nighttime regiment, you’re ready for bed. you turn the corner into your bedroom and see the silhouette of lando reflecting against the wall. your night light was on, and he was laying in your bed, cozied up under the covers.

“sleeping in here tonight?” you ask slipping under the covers beside him, he moves himself closer to you occupying the middle of the bed.

“you don’t mind, do you?”

you shake your head curling your body against his, “I like it when you sleep with me.” you say making a sense of pride soar through his chest. he likes the way your body molds against his.

“your new boyfriend will protect you.” he smiles down at you, carefully place a kiss to your forehead before reaching over and turning off your lamp.

“thank goodness he’s here, I can’t sleep without him.”

“you know I’m talking about myself right?” he lifts his neck up, face looking down at you, your eyes closed practically half asleep already.

“goodnight, boyfriend.”

“goodnight, girlfriend.”

tags: @oconso @xcicix @imsorare @weasleyswizardwheezes-blog @monzabee @lpab @frreyaa @motorsp0rt @lovelytsunoda @smoothopz

want to be apart of my tag list? let me know here!

#lando norris #lando norris drabble #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris smut #lando norris fic #lando norris blurb #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 driver x you #f1 fanfic #f1 x y/n #f1 driver x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #f1 fic #f1 x female reader #f1 x oc #f1 fluff #formula 1 fic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x you #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x female reader #formula 1 x oc

[pucksandpower]

grid kids : y/n having super bad periods like bedridden and seb try’s to tell the boys they can’t visit and they go into full like code red crisis mode

Grid Kids: The Best Medicine

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the grid kids do everything they can think of to make you feel better

Series Masterlist

Max enters the room gingerly, holding a steaming mug of herbal tea. “I googled it,” he whispers to Charles, who’s setting up a little essential oil diffuser on the bedside table. “This should help.”

Charles nods, looking at the variety of oils he’s brought. “Lavender for relaxation,” he explains.

From the other side of the room, Lando and George carry in an enormous heating pad. “This helped my sister,” Lando mutters, plugging it in, while George adjusts the settings.

Lance, a bit out of his depth but wanting to contribute, tentatively offers a stack of magazines and books. “For ... distractions?”

Mick, who’s been quietly observing, pulls out a small speaker from his bag. “How about some calming music? Always helps to set a soothing environment.”

While this orchestrated chaos unfolds, you, despite your pain, can’t help but be touched by the outpouring of care and concern. You try to sit up but the discomfort is evident.

“Hey,” Sebastian gently admonishes, propping you up with more pillows, “Let them fuss over you. They want to.”

As evening falls, the room is transformed into a comforting sanctuary. The soft glow from fairy lights, the gentle hum of calming tunes, and the subtle scent of lavender fills the room.

Feeling a bit better from all the care, you whisper, “Thank you, boys. But you don’t have to stick around, you know.”

Lando pulls a funny face, “And miss out on a sleepover? No way.”

One by one, the grid kids, following Lando’s lead, find a comfy spot on your enormous bed, cocooning you protectively in the center. Some snuggled at the foot, some propped against the headboard, and others squished in the middle.

With the soft chirping of crickets outside and the rhythmic breathing of your sons on all sides, you drift into a peaceful sleep, pain momentarily forgotten in favor of burrowing deeper into the love and warmth surrounding you.

***

The morning sun peeks through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. you stir, the pain still present but noticeably diminished. As your eyes flutter open, you’re greeted by the endearing sight of the grid kids sprawled all around you, each in varying poses of sleep.

Sebastian, having given up his spot on the bed last night, is asleep in the armchair, a book resting on his chest. George and Lando, squished up at the foot of the bed, are tangled in a mess of limbs, while Charles seems to have created a makeshift fort for himself with every pillow he could find.

The aroma of breakfast wafts into the room, pulling you from your thoughts. Mick, having woken up earlier, stands in the doorway with a tray. “Morning! Thought you might be hungry,” he says, a smile touching his lips.

“Oh, Mick,” you murmur, touched by the gesture. “You didn’t have to.”

He sets the tray on your lap, revealing a spread of toast with bacon and eggs, fresh fruit, and some yogurt. “We all pitched in. Well, mostly Max and Lance. They seem to think they’re on MasterChef or something.”

Laughter ripples through the room as the others start to wake, each stretching and yawning. Max, rubbing his eyes, adds, “Hey, those scrambled eggs were a work of art!”

Lance chimes in, “Don’t forget about the smoothie. That was my masterpiece.”

George, trying to subtly smooth out his bed head, quirks a brow. “If we’re being all domestic, how about a spa day? Right here, right now.”

Charles, still nestled in his pillow fort, chuckles. “In this room? With all of us? I’m sure that will end well.”

Max’s eyes light up, “I’m in! But only if someone does that cucumber thing on my eyes.”

Mick grins, “You mean a cucumber facial? I’ve got you covered.” He dashes out, only to return moments later with a stash of beauty products. “My sister left these the last time she visited. We’ve got masks, scrubs, the works!”

Amused and touched by the turn of events, you announce, “Alright then, let the spa day commence!”

Sebastian, skeptical but game, adds, “I’ve never had a mani-pedi before.”

Lando winks, “There’s a first time for everything, Seb. Give me your hands.”

As Lando starts on Sebastian while Lance gets to work on making more of his famed smoothies for everyone. Meanwhile, George and Charles, having taken over the facial department, start applying face masks, complete with cucumber slices for the eyes.

An hour later, the room is a delightful mess. Mick and Max have somehow managed to get more face mask on their shirts than on their faces. Lando’s meticulous nail painting skills are in high demand, and George is draped over the foot of the bed, a bright green face mask contrasting comically with his hair.

You, through bouts of laughter, look around at the delightful chaos. “Alright, time for the big question. Do you or do you not feel bonita?”

Lance, his fingers spread out to dry the bright pink nail polish Lando chose, grins. “I feel bonita.”

Charles, attempting to peel off his dried mask, replies with a dramatic flair, “I was born bonita but now? I’m radiant!”

Mick chimes in, “Can’t see through these cucumber slices but I’m pretty sure I’m the most bonita of all.”

The room fills with banter, laughter, and the gentle ribbing that only close friends and family can share. As the day turns into evening, the spa treatments wind down and the room settles into a comfortable quiet.

You, heart full, look around at the makeshift spa and the joy it brought. “Thank you, boys. Today was unexpected but absolutely perfect.”

Sebastian, his nails now adorned with a clear glossy finish, adds, “I think we should make this a tradition. Spa day before every race.”

Max raises his own freshly manicured hand. “All in favor?”

A chorus of “Ayes!” fills the room and so a new tradition was born.

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #sebastian vettel x reader #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lance stroll x reader #george russell x reader #lando norris x reader #mick schumacher x reader #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #sebastian vettel imagine #max verstappen imagine #charles leclerc imagine #lance stroll imagine #george russell imagine #lando norris imagine #mick schumacher imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader

[gay-dorito-dust]

hey!! if requests are open can u write a luke x jealous!reader?

The ending is a rushed pile of dogshit cuz I didn’t know what to do. 🦦

‘Luke?’

‘Yeah babe.’

‘Are you happy with me, like genuinely happy?’

Luke looked at you confused. ‘I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my entire life.’ He then reached to grasp one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. ‘What’s going on inside that pretty little head of yours.’ He utters softly, eyes shining with worry and concern.

You bit the inside of your cheek, all of a sudden feeling a little stupid in what you were feeling since this morning and shrugged your shoulders sheepishly. ‘It’s nothing, really. I’m just getting inside my own head.’ You attempted to play it off in hopes that it will all be forgotten, but you also knew that Luke would want to get to the bottom of what was causing you to be anything other then happy and solve it together.

‘It’s not nothing if it’s you sweetheart.’ Luke said as he then used his free hand to lift your chin so that you would look at him instead of your shoes. ‘Talk to me, please don’t shut me out. I know somethings wrong and I want help, so let me help you.’ He adds and you finally felt yourself crack. ‘I saw how some of the girls kept looking at you during training and kept hanging off of you the entire day and how you kept playing up to them.’ You eventually told him, not wanting to keep anything secret from him anymore. ‘So I ended up getting a little jealous that I might not be making you happy anymore…not to mention how busy we’ve both been with camp activities lately…’ you finished, staring deep into his dark, captivating eyes that seemed to see and know you at your core.

‘Hey, there’s no shame in what you’re feeling, and despite what we’re raised as, we’re still fundamentally human in every other aspect. Okay.’ Luke said as he tried to squeeze every ounce of his assurance into your interlocked hands, hopeful that it would bring you at least some peace of mind. ‘I hate how busy we’ve become, more than anything and I just wish we could go back to the days where we would hideaway together by our secret spot at the lake. For being with you during those moments when unrest would take over camp was always my antidote, my soothing balm for my overworked mind in trying to keep camp sane.’ Luke then rested his forehead against your own so that he was the only thing you could see and vice versa.

‘You mean that?’ You asked and Luke let out a chuckle.

‘Mean it? Sweetheart, I live by it.’ Luke said, gingerly pressing a kiss to your brow as though to ease the tension within it, leaving you to melt into him a little bit. ‘So I don’t want you to ever think that you’re not enough. Especially not when you’re the sole thing I think about from the moment I wake up -wishing you were cuddled up in my arms- to the moment I drift off to sleep. I cant get enough of you!’ Any ounce of insecurity you might’ve had beforehand had been discarded afterwards upon hearing his sweet words, so much so that you couldn’t seem to stop smiling nor stop the warm feeling within your chest whenever Luke said anything remotely endearing; it was your biggest weakness and he knew just how to exploit it for his one benefit.

‘There’s that gorgeous smile I love.’ He coos, stealing a kiss from your lips to emphasise his point, leaving your smile to widen against his lips; humming in content as any and all notions of jealously were completely forgotten alongside the campers those feelings were aimed towards.

‘Just remember that it’s your arms I want to be held by and that it’s your smile that I want to be the reason for because getting to see you smile, laugh, or just being your authentic self is my guiding light in this life and I’d be stupid to ever give that up. You’re it for me, for if I can’t have your kind of love, then I don’t want to ever experience love at all.’ Luke spoke against your lips, keenly kissing them whenever he felt as though you needed that extra bit of proof of his love and devotion.

You didn’t because Luke never failed to reaffirm his adoration for you in the little things he did for you, but you couldn’t help but allow yourself to drown in his vast displays of affection, for your love for Luke was considered your Achilles heel but you’d happily let that continue to be the case for the rest of your days.

#pjo x reader #pjo imagines #pjo imagine #pjo fanfic #pjo tv show #pjo series #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan fanfic

[justporo]

Hey you :D

Here’s a request just to add your huge list for after vacation muahaha 💖

How do you think a slow, bickering romance with Astarion (kinda like Howl and Sophie) would go down.

Hey darling ❤️ You might’ve forgotten about this ask but I have not! I'm combining this with another one asking about where Astarion rejected Tav at first but then slowly fell for them.

Also haven't done one of this headcanon posts for a whole haven't we? Here we go:

Headcanons about Astarion slowly but surely falling in love with you (and how he pursues you)

Oh, it's all just a game for him, isn't it? At least at first. But this silly little jester didn't realise he was playing himself.

He might have rejected you at first (because he's a prick who has looked at the sun a little too long, let's be honest) but he quickly realises he can't take his mind off of you

You keep stirring the vampire's undead little heart and it scares him at first - and of course you had given up on it after that first hurtful rejection

But his crimson eyes start to never stray far from you, no matter if in battle or at camp: he can't tear his gaze from you - gods dammit, you're lovely!

It's in the way you always put others first, always have a kind word to spare, always a warm smile. How you laugh and how brave you are, how you bite your lip when you're lost deep in thought.

Quite frankly: a stake to his heart couldn't have been more effective.

But he realises another thing: he wants to be real with you, he wants to fall slowly with you - not a vicious thunderstorm but a soft, warm summer rain

And so Astarion begins to yearn in silence as you too can't keep your thoughts from turning around him often

It's painfully obvious to everyone around you how much the two of you are in love with each other; so much so that bets are being made in camp if you're gonna make it before you all reach the Gate

You notice that Astarion keeps sneaking around you like an adoring cat would: always a playful quip on the tip of his sharp tongue that you never take serious because... this Astarion we're talking about. "Oh my heart, aren't you even more blinding than the sun today" "Look who's blessing us with their grace and insight." "A copper for the thoughts in your pretty little head, darling."

Astarion doesn't know how to live the teasing out of his tone, maybe out of fear you might actually start taking him seriously; but if you would peel back the generous layer of faked sarcasm you'd find he's actually being serious

This man is downright smitten by you and you don't realise it as he achingly yearns for you - so much the others can barely take it

Sometimes you find little gifts on your pillow when you wake up: a sweet treat, snuck away from the others, a single blossom, a mysterious line of poetry - you are at a loss at where this comes from or if someone is playing with you

Meanwhile Astarion swallows his pride to regularly go to Wyll and ask his advice who... does help him but not without a haughty grin whenever he sees the lovesick vampire stroll over in his seemingly hopeless endeavour

Meanwhile you keep doing your utmost best to be at Astarion's side because you truly only want to help him and be happy and safe

Again: have mercy with the poor tortured soul, sometimes Astarion almost feels like he could combust on the spot if you give him one of your adorable lopsided smiles

When Moonrise and unpleasant people happen something in Astarion breaks, it all bursts out of him at once, overpowering even his terrible fear of rejection

The hug and tender first kiss you share that night tears both if your walls down.

You have not defeated the big bad enemy but something in your heart lightens knowing you have someone who will travel the road to whatever end with you

From there on out the two of you become even more unbearable in your pining for each other - meanwhile not trivial amounts of gold are passed between the other companions with quite some grumbling - but be assured: all of your friends are rooting for the two of you.

There we go, I love idiots in love with each other, hope you enjoyed!

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #fanfiction #astarion x tav #bg3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate #astarion x you #poro headcanons #bg3 companions #astarion x reader

[smallnico]

durge desensitizes to casual positive affection and friendship compilation

also known as real feline durge hours. esper's companions look at them and say Is Anyone Gonna Manhandle That Murderous Twink and then not wait for an answer. contexts/explanations under readmore for the curious

lae'zel and esper do morning exercises and meditation together. most of the time they pass the time in silence, but sometimes they're joined by the local wildlife. esper is a great fan of showing their friends things they might find interesting as a form of affection instead of words, especially with lae'zel, since they have a common discomfort with small talk.

esper doesn't like looking at themself in the mirror, so their makeup is always ancient and haphazardly applied, a fact that distresses the more image-conscientious shadowheart. she and esper have a sibling-like relationship fuelled by mutual amnesia and goth solidarity, among other things, but sometimes a sister has to take it upon herself to fix her stinky sibling's wings.

i already expanded on wyll and esper's dynamic a bit in this piece and i didn't feel like drawing the same thing twice, but suffice it to say, they have absolutely no idea how to talk to each other, but still look out for each other. the joke here is about how i've done a couple of long rests in-game with just alcohol i've found. hey 5 camp supplies is 5 camp supplies

jaheira unearths esper's forgotten mother issues. no real things to add here. no thoughts only cub.

gale said way back in act 1 that esper reminded him of tara, and esper isn't leaning into that on purpose per se, but as i said for lae'zel, they like getting their friends things those friends might enjoy. they also love chaos. show your evocation wizard some love by bringing him extremely destructive spells to play with. show your durge some love by casting chain lightning and letting them watch

i have no justification for this one lmao. esper isn't a Huge fan of being picked up and hefted around like a sack of oats, but maybe they should've thought of that before being small and scoop-uppable. socially, esper and halsin don't click especially well, but esper is fundamentally a creature, and therefore pretty easy for halsin to understand. obviously they don't mind that much :J

esper and karlach voted two most touch-starved nerds in faerun, they help each other cope by sleeping in a cuddle pile like cats. karlach runs warm even after getting her engine tuned up, but esper doesn't mind. she's cozy

astarion is by far the person esper is the most verbal with, probably because he's the only one who really thinks the durgeisms that slip out are funny and #relatable. everyone else errs on the side of caution with esper, but astarion knows he's allowed to take liberties with them, and he does. they have the same sense of humour. these two freaks are completely insufferable together because they're vibing so hard on a level incomprehensible to everyone around them, but astarion can put a stop to esper's self-destructive internal stress engine, and esper can drag him into helping and working hard. the others have no choice but to tolerate them as a couple because no matter how unhinged they are as a unit, they're so much worse for society on the whole as individuals. do not separate them

if you read all this, hope you enjoyed this illumination of esper's party dynamics, i love you <3 enjoy

#smallnico art #baldur's gate 3 #the dark urge #bg3 #bg3 dark urge #bg3 lae'zel #bg3 shadowheart #bg3 wyll #bg3 jaheira #bg3 gale #bg3 halsin #bg3 karlach #bg3 astarion #bg3 companions #esper #smallnioc #bg3 comic #durgeposting

[tervaneula]

Leonardo sighs into the white fur his snout is blissfully buried in. 

“You’re so soft,” he mumbles and burrows even further into the warmth in his lap, pulling Yuichi’s back flush against his plastron. 

“We’ve established that about thirty times in the last thirty minutes,” the rabbit chuckles and keeps letting himself be treated like the world’s largest teddy bear. “I should get going though. Your brother is giving me the stink eye.” 

Huh. Leonardo hadn’t even noticed anyone coming into the room from the midst of his trip to Fuzzy Land. 

“...which one?”

“Little Mikey.” 

Leonardo snorts, inadvertently giving Yuichi a light raspberry and he snickers at the tickle of it. 

“Don’t call him that where he can hear you, lest you evoke the fury of Dr. Delicate Touch.” 

“I think he heard me…” 

That gets Leonardo to lift his face up from the fluffy heaven he would’ve been content to spend the rest of eternity in and sure enough, Mikey is downright glaring at them at this point from his seat across the room, arms crossed, a refurbished and heavily modified N-Gage (provided by Genius Built™, of course) he’d apparently been playing games on now laying forgotten in his lap. 

It’s baffling until Leonardo remembers with a jolt that he had promised to go with him to Run of the Mill today. A cursory glance at the clock on the wall tells him that they’re well past the agreed time to leave. 

He audibly swallows. 

“Heyyyy, big man–” he starts but Mikey levels him with an icy glare that doesn’t let him continue and he shrinks, squeezing Yuichi’s middle as if the rabbit could hide him from the quiet fury of his little brother. Yuichi stays silent, no doubt amused by the much bigger man cowering behind him. He’s only heard about both Michelangelos’ different personas and he’s curious to see if any of the infamous doctors will make an appearance this time. Obviously, he’s partly to blame for whatever’s about to occur but while curiosity might kill the cat, satisfaction always brings it back. 

“You know what. It’s okay. It’s perfectly fine to forgo your promise and let your baby brother starve in favour of some cuddles you can get like, iunno, every dang day,” the box turtle says, ice dripping from his voice as he gets up from the armchair and saunters right up to the personal space of the two swordsmen. 

“And the stink eye was for Leo,” he adds and forcefully jabs Leonardo in the forehead with his finger. 

“I’m sorry!” Leonardo squeaks, his head retracting into his shell on instinct. Despite his foul mood, Mikey grins. 

Yuichi looks behind his shoulder… and freezes. 

The smugness radiating from Mikey changes into confusion as the rabbit just keeps staring at the space where Leonardo’s head used to be. 

“Wait, have you never seen him do that before?” he asks, and Yuichi slowly turns his head to look at him. Finally finding his tongue, he almost screeches, 

“That’s normal?!” 

Mikey bursts into laughter. 

“We’re turtles! Obviously! Look!” 

Yuichi’s eyes sting with how they’re nearly bulging out of their sockets as Mikey demonstrates his ability to retract all of his limbs with ease and his shell falls to the floor with a clang. 

“Ta-dah!” he exclaims from within and pushes his arms out enough to make jazz hands at Yuichi. 

“Oh my stars,” the rabbit mumbles and suddenly lightheaded, he leans against Leonardo’s body. The slider finally gets his nerves in check and pops his head back out with a grunt – it’s a tight fit, has been for years, and he’s inherently glad that only a few things are scary enough (Mikey being one of them doesn’t exactly make his life easier but that’s not here nor there) to make him retract any of his body parts. 

He nestles his chin in the crook of Yuichi’s neck and can’t keep the amusement out of his voice. 

“Did I actually spook you?” 

Yuichi draws a deep breath and slumps bonelessly into the slider’s hold. 

“You bet,” he mutters, “that’s so weird. You’re so weird.” 

Leonardo barks out a laugh. “Excuse me! You’re not exactly a model example of normal either, mister universe-hopping, not-a-yokai-nor-a-mutant bunny rabbit.” 

Mikey decides to pop out of his shell at that moment, groaning. 

“Uuuugh nooo, don’t start with the banter! You’re lucky your boyfriend is un excellent comic relief. I’m so hungry, Leo! Let’s go already!” 

Feeling bad for forgetting his promise, Leonardo relinquishes his hold on his heaven-on-earth with a quick peck on his cheek. 

“I’ll portal you home. See you tomorrow?” 

Yuichi sighs but can’t help the smile that tugs the corners of his mouth upwards. “See you tomorrow,” he replies and gets up from Leonardo’s lap. Mikey moves out of his way, having fished his phone out of a pocket on his belt. 

“I’m gonna text our order to Hueso,” he grumbles but the earlier fit of laughter seems to have drained all the venom out of his voice and he only sounds a little vexed. Yuichi almost reaches out to pat his head but thinks better of it and hides his hands in the sleeves of his yukata. 

“I’m sorry for keeping your brother,” he apologises with a small bow, “had I known he had a promise to keep, I would’ve excused myself earlier.” 

Mikey huffs, his thumbs still flying across the screen of his phone. No doubt Leonardo is going to pay for his transgressions in the form of a massive dinner order. “It’s not your responsibility, but I appreciate that!” 

Leonardo shakes his head fondly. He’s infinitely glad that his family has accepted Yuichi so quickly and therefore the rabbit could afford to lose some of that politeness, but he has to admit that it’s also pretty adorable. He gets up to retrieve a katana (formerly a butter knife – one of the more banged-up ones the Mikeys wouldn’t miss) from the conveniently placed wall mount and rotates his wrist to open a portal right to the middle of Yuichi’s living room. 

“I’m still not used to you doing that,” the rabbit says, staring at the swirling mystic energy with more than a little awe. “It’s so convenient! I don’t think there’s a single person in Neo Edo who can do magic like this.” 

“Well duh, only a Hamato can have ninpo like ours!” Mikey puts his phone away and demonstrates his abilities by manifesting a golden chain which he uses to yank the sword out of Leonardo’s grasp. 

“Hey!” 

“My turn!” Mikey giggles and swings the katana through the air, leaving it spinning near the ceiling. Leonardo sighs and hurries to walk Yuichi to the portal before his concentration fades and he has to make it again. The rabbit steps into it obediently but before Leonardo can bid him farewell, he turns around to lean back over the threshold and pulls Leonardo down to squish their snouts together. It’s not really a kiss, per se, but it has the desired effect anyway as the slider’s eyes widen comically and his cheeks flush crimson. Yuichi lets go and steps back with a huge grin, his eyes glinting with mirth. 

“Have fun at dinner! Give my regards to Señor Hueso!” 

Leonardo can only stare after him, the heat on his face practically rivalling the sun, and Mikey has to elbow him in the ribs to get him back in the present. 

“Y-yeah! Bye!” he says, a goofy smile plastered on his embarrassingly red face and Yuichi waves him goodbye as the portal closes. 

Now that there’s no more lovey-dovey nonsense in the way of their dinner, Mikey doesn’t waste a moment to manoeuvre the katana into his hand to grab the hilt in order to slice through the air to make a portal to the pizzeria. The crackling blue ring of magic that appears is small and it wavers before fizzling out and, lucky for the slider, Leonardo manages to suppress his snort in time. 

“Aw man, I thought I had it this time!” 

“No can do, big guy,” Leonardo salutes him and motions for the box turtle to give the sword back to him. Mikey sighs and acquiesces. The portal into the graffitied alleyway appears effortlessly and Mikey immediately jumps in, yelling at the slider to follow. 

Leonardo does, but not before brushing his fingers over his beak, still feeling the tingle Yuichi’s much softer nose left behind. 

He realises he’s irrevocably smitten, and frankly, despite the trouble it landed him in today, he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

LMAOOO OKAY i've never written anything this long this fast so there's probably a bunch of stuff that needs to be fixed but I needed these cuddles and I needed them now. Thank you @spacemimz for requesting them I love you SO MUCH

As you can see though, this turned into something more than just cuddles and I'm kinda. Really happy about it hahjhjhashsdg

#can u believe im soft for these middle-aged men #author's note at the end #word count is 1.4k lmao #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt fanart #rottmnt fanfiction #samurai rabbit #usagi chronicles #usagi yuichi #yuichi usagi #leoichi #peepaw leo #future leonardo #rise mikey #nqk #nqk adjacent #tervdraws #tervdrabbles

[seraphinitegames]

The Wayhaven Chronicles—Update 15/Sept/2023

As I’m fast approaching my end date for planning, I’m barely able to contain myself for getting writing! :D

Though I have got a list of some ‘housekeeping’ I want to do once I get started. There’s definitely some things I’ve learned with coding that I can streamline, so I’ll be adding those in before I get going on the opening scene (which hopefully will certainly leave an impact…;D).

I’ve also got to make a final decision on a certain new stat I’m thinking of adding.

I’m wondering whether to add a stat for ‘Agency Reputation’. This wouldn’t be like the hidden stat that tracks how the overall supernatural community views the MC but would show what your colleagues at the facility think of your character.

It would be a text-based stat and would be things like: heroic, feared, resilient, etc.

But there’s already personality stats and new Agency skill stats, so I’m not sure adding something ELSE would be a good idea. Might just be too much to track for me for coding, as well as too much information for the player.

Yet, I do really like the idea of making playthroughs even more individual, but I guess something like reputation is something I could headcanon for my characters…so I’m undecided.

(I realise it seems like I’m blabbering, hehe! But I like to share, if I can, the process of how I work these things out and so you can get a sense of where I’m at and why things do or don’t get added!)

The Book One refresh is really coming on a pace too! I’m only getting the weekends to work on that as I like to focus on Book Four during the work week, but I’m still managing to push on with it. I’m also taking the opportunity to note down anything I may have forgotten from Book One as I go, as I can clearly remember the big moments, but the smaller ones are still impactful and I might want to bring up in future books.

Hope you all have the most fabulous weekend! We’ll be offline, so I’ll talk to you all again next week!

#the wayhaven chronicles #interactive fiction #update #twc book 4 #progress report

[adobe-outdesign]

Lickitung line review

Lickitung is fairly forgotten about in the grand scheme of things, but I do like it quite a bit. The tongue thing is super in-your-face obvious and is a very unique theme (it also might be vaguely based off of an akaname yokai).

But what makes it work for me isn't just that it's a weird abstract creature with a tongue—it's that it's a very organic, cool-looking creature with a tongue. I love how its very vaguely salamander-esq in the face but is also bipedal, with a huge tail that mimics the tongue. It feels like something that could exist, and I always enjoy those kind of designs.

The stomach markings are also pretty interesting; it's an usual pattern that I don't think any other Pokemon sports, and they add a lot of shape to the body. Color-wise, pink is an obvious choice, and the cream works well to accent it. I do wish the pink was a bit deeper or more saturated as it feels a bit washed-out, but otherwise, this is a solid weird tongue thing.

Lickitung also had a beta evo design in the Spaceworld Demo. I like the rolled tongue, mustache, and markings... but the way it's some kind of Indian snake charmer(??) feels uncomfortable, and the body shape needed to change more.

Speaking of evos, Lickilicky is also as a weird tongue thing, but unfortunately it's not particularly well designed. My favorite thing about Lickitung is, as I just said, that it feels like an actual animal—but Lickilicky is anything but. The completely circular body, perfectly straight tongue, and stubby legs make it feel more like a toy.

But my other issue with it is that it doesn't really feel like a progression of Lickitung. Lickitung's thing is, surprise, the tongue, so you'd expect the tongue to be longer or more prominent in the design. Instead, it's shorter. Yes, it can presumably extend to be longer, but why would you de-emphasize the most important part of the design?

Similarly, the markings are reduced down, making them once again feel like a regression instead of a progression. They at least attempted to add something with the markings under the chin being more bib-like, but that's not enough to make the entire design work. Also, the wi-fi markings don't add much at this point and they would've worked at least a bit better in white.

You want to know an easy fix for this problem? Make Lickilicky the pre-evo. It feels weird to imagine Lickitung evolving into Lickilicky, but a Lickitung surrounded by little baby Lickilicky? Adorable! It would also make sense with things like the bib and the little curl of "hair" at the top.

If there's one thing I can give Lickilicky, it's that it at least has better colors than Lickitung. That, and the :P expression is kind of fun. Otherwise, though, I don't think this one works much at all.

(I also have to give a quick shoutout to @inprogresspokemon's Lickitung evo. This, to me, is a much better direction at all—it emphasizes and doubles down on the tongue paralysis thing and it still has a very organic body shape.)

Anyway, overall, Lickitung has a strong theme and a nice abstract design that conveys said theme well, but Lickilicky feels like a step backwards and would've been much better as a pre-evo. Maybe consider putting an everstone on this one.

#lickitung #lickilicky #pokemon #pokemon reviews

[soulprompts]

THE ART OF TIME SLIPPING. ( A PROMPT LIST! )

an absolute genius of a nonnie requested these, and i had a weekend off, and i wanted to write these because, i mean. time travel is a tasty concept on its own, but ACCIDENTAL time travel???? exceptional! anyway, my beloved nonnie, i truly hope that these are what you were looking for! and i hope everyone else enjoys them too! as always: DO NOT ADD TO THIS LIST OF PROMPTS! and do not claim them as your own!

FROM THE ACCIDENTAL TIME TRAVELLER:

“ look, i get it. I do. you have no reason to believe what i’m saying. but i promise you: i’m from the future. “

“ how many times do i need to tell you?! i’m not even born yet! you won’t see my birth records for months/years/centuries yet! “

“ wait… hold on a second, what year is it? “

“ you don’t even have the first idea what this feels like. i just found out that i somehow missed the last [INSERT TIME SPAN HERE] of my life, and in the blink of an eye. “

“ listen, this is going to sound mad, but… you’re my mother/father/parent [OR OTHER RELATIVE]. i can’t prove it, but you are. It’s the truth. i swear. “

“ i don’t understand how i came to your time. but i do know i need to get back to my one. “

“ i seriously wish you’d all stop asking me these questions! i don’t know how i got here! i just… slipped! it just happened! “

“ it’s so weird. all this stuff that’s going to happen between now and my time… i don’t even know if i should tell you about it. “

“ all the times i wanted to be alone, or i wanted to just be somewhere that nobody knew me… this isn’t what i wanted. “

“ i just want to go back to my own timeline. okay? I didn’t want any of this to happen. i never meant… this is so messed up. “

“ wait, you believe me?! i just told you a completely wild story about being from another time, and you just… trust that i’m being honest?! “

“ the wildest thing is, i didn’t do anything to get here. you know? i didn’t drive super fast, i didn’t turn a hot tub into a time machine. i just… i was home, then i was here. “

“ i guess there’s a risk it could happen to other people in my timeline, but i’m more concerned about me right now. “

" if i don't go back... there's no knowing what could happen. and if there's the slightest risk that you might stop existing if i choose to stay, then i don't wanna stay. your world needs you. okay? "

" hey. no matter what happens now, i want you to know that i'll never forget you. you believed me and my unbelievable story about time travel. that's not something that gets forgotten easily. "

TO THE ACCIDENTAL TIME TRAVELLER:

“ prove it. prove that you’re from a different time. then i might think about believing you. “

“ …sure… you’re from the future, yeah? okay pal, i believe you. so tell me, when was the last time you slept? “

“ this is some kind of dumb prank, isn’t it? wow. well done, well played, you nearly had me. jeez, time travel… that’s just next level insanity right there… “

“ i don’t know why, but… i think i’m going to believe you. it doesn’t make a single bit of sense, but fine. you’re from the future/past. “

“ how did you end up here? or should i say… now? “

“ haven’t you seen a single time travel movie? if you stay in this time, that could mess up the entire world! “

“ i… imagine this must be very weird for you. right? or is that the dumbest understatement of the millennium? “

“ if you’re from the past, then that means we should probably keep you away from the history books. it feels like a solid rule not to spoil your future for you. “

“ look, i can’t watch all those cheesy sci-fi flicks and then ignore the possibility that people can travel through time. “

“ no. no, i don’t believe you. i don’t believe a word of what you just said. but i figure i have nothing better to do, and i kinda wanna see where you’re going with this crazy story, so… let’s go out on a limb and say you’re telling me the truth. “

“ hey, i’m asking the questions here! you don’t get to just zap into my back yard and then assume you get to ask all these questions! who are you, and how did you get here?! “

“ did you live here before? or… like, in the future, i mean? “

“ the way i see it, there’s a lot of far easier lies to believe before you could ever expect anyone to swallow the whole time travel schtick. which probably means you’re telling the truth. “

" look. you wanna get back to your own timeline, right? that means we need to replicate everything that happened the exact second you showed up here. so let's go. "

" this is completely absurd! how did you end up here?! science? magic? how! this completely destroys any and all theories of quantum physics! you just... blinked into the past/future! it's just not possible! "

" from what you're telling me, it sounds like you could end up destroying the universe just by staying here too long. so let's find a way to get you back home. "

" you don't get it! if you're from the past, that means you need to stay there in order to keep this timeline safe. right? like the butterfly theory. if you're not there in the past, then you can't do your part to secure this timeline. we could stop existing if you don't go back! "

" i mean... would it really be so bad it you stayed? sure, a new timeline would exist, but... it'd be our timeline. where you and i get to stay together. that's not so bad, is it? "

#roleplay meme #rp meme #sentence starters #ask meme #writing prompts #roleplay prompts #rp prompt #rp memes #writing prompt #roleplay starters

[esamastation]

Part fifty-nine of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: fifty-one, fifty-two, fifty-three, fifty-four, fifty-five, fifty-fix, fifty-seven, fifty-eight

-

By the end of the day Tseng has been left with answers, questions and a whole lot of sections unfelined in his original assessment to be removed as no longer applicable. Sephiroth… neither behaves nor reacts as expected, that much is clear. But that's not the most concerning thing, at all.

Sephiroth's Energy Alignment is. His cultivation is a concern. As is the fact that the man is absolutely certain that it can be taught to anyone.

There is a number of theories about what is happening to Sephiroth. Professor Hojo has one theory, the Science Department as a whole has another. Tseng himself had added a few more theories to the list, which have now been proven wrong.

Sephiroth's cultivation isn't Wutai in origin. It's similar in nature, self-improvement and self-betterment, the cultivation of your self in order to advance in your abilities is certainly part of it. But what Sephiroth is doing is taking all that to a metaphysical - or perhaps magiphysical - level. He is quite literally cultivating the energies inside himself, honing them in manner unheard of, into something no one has ever theorised.

And Tseng can't deny that it does indeed seem like it might be an Ancient doctrine. Sephiroth can already perform magical feats without Materia - and according to the man himself, he's still in the beginner stages.

"What will happen once your cultivation is complete?" Tseng can't help but ask, after the day's training and meditation is over and they're making dinner.

"I will ascend to the heavens as a new god," Sephiroth answers loftily and then laughs softly at the look Tseng gives him. "Cultivation is never complete. It doesn't have an end goal. It is a process and a journey - one you dedicate your whole life to."

"... During which you get more and more advanced in your abilities?" Tseng asks, setting aside the chopped vegetables.

During the day he's noted two things. One, Sephiroth reacts best to direct, unambiguous questions. Two, he can't resist a chance to explain. The man had also relaxed immediately when Tseng began asking those questions - and began imparting information with much greater ease.

Tseng had adjusted his approach accordingly.

"Isn't that the goal of everyone who is in progress of learning anything, to get better?" Sephiroth asks and adds the washed rice into a pot, closing the lid. "Cultivation isn't exactly a sliding scale with set points of improvements, but yes, the more you practise, the better you get."

In other words, there's no such thing as being done with Sephiroth's new practice. If the man was given leeway, he'd stay here indefinitely, training and meditating. Hmm. 

Well, it's good to know that there's definitely a way to remove the man from the volatile equation that is Shinra. 

Tseng makes a mental note to procure a permanent and suitably secluded safehouse for Sephiroth, should the need arise, and then moves onto preparing the rest of the food.

Sephiroth watches him with that smug look of satisfaction he's had on for most of the day, and then asks, "Tell me, Tseng, what do they think of all of this back at Shinra?"

Tseng glances at him. "Why do you want to know?"

"I'm curious," Sephiroth smiles. "I know they have theories. I would like to know what they're saying."

Tseng shakes his head. "So that you can adjust your behaviour accordingly?" he asks pointedly.

Sephiroth huffs. "No, of course not. I just think it would be funny, that's all."

Tseng gives him a look, not believing a word of it. "One of the theories is that you have a case of confabulation."

Sephiroth blinks and then frowns. "What does that mean?"

"You have amnesia, you've forgotten most of your life - but not all," Tseng explains. "You remember some things and are subconsciously leaning more into those things. They take more space in your awareness and have higher importance. Your brain, unbeknownst to you, fabricates memories and knowledge around those few things, giving you a false sense of expertise in matters you probably only perceived peripherally."

Sephiroth looks taken back. "Like what?" he asks, sounding stunned.

"Home decor, fashion, Wutai martial arts, monster knowledge - tea?" Tseng points to the Wutai tea set, Sephiroth's most prized possession here, after his sword. "What little you remember you cling onto and wrap yourself around, to make it seem like you have a past, likes, habits, and preferences."

Sephiroth blinks at that, his brows arching, and Tseng adds, "Though you drank tea before, it was without such ceremony. You've expanded a minor habit into a full on hobby."

"Huh," Sephiroth says, sounding fascinated now. He folds his arms, looking at Tseng in a new light. "You really think that?"

No, not really. Sephiroth's new habits aren't just self-deluding mind-fronting in the face of his amnesia. He's far too well practised and skilled in them. It's not just the tea drinking - everything new he's doing now he does with an unnerving amount of prior knowledge.

His new talent as a teacher is the most damning of it all. It's not just knowledge - it's both expertise and experience. Sephiroth teaches like a man who's been doing it for years, who's had hundreds of students, and who both enjoys what he's doing and is very good at it. It's a mix of qualities that only time and practice can give you.

"I don't know what's going on with you," Tseng admits. "But I know it's not something you got from a simple Mako injection."

Thought he still isn't sure he'd call it necessarily Ancient knowledge. He's seen the things Aerith does without thinking, without effort, as natural as breathing. What Sephiroth is doing definitely takes effort.

Tseng still can't quite reconcile them as somehow being the same, with how fundamentally different they are. Though after today…

He's not so sure anymore.

Sephiroth hums, his expression going serious as he looks away. Then he shakes his head and offers, cheekily, "Tea, while we wait for the rice to cook?"

Tseng hums and joins him at the tea table, tugging at the knees of his trousers to keep them from stretching as he sits down. Sephiroth makes tea like an old Wutai master, pouring the first steep away and then pouring for them both. 

The tea is, of course, perfectly prepared.

For a moment they're quiet, listening to the fire crackling in the stove and how the rice pot start to bubble.

"Are they really trying to recreate what happened?" Sephiroth then asks quietly, somewhat guiltily. "With someone else?"

Tseng considers his mood and then answers honestly. "Yes. With several others. Almost the entirety of the SOLDIER program has been tested for viability, though very few suit Professor Hojo's criteria."

Sephiroth's full bottom lip draws into a line. "How many are…?" he can't seem to bring himself to finish the question.

Tseng fishes out his PHS and pulls up the report. "There have been four casualties - SOLDIER Second Class Laxey Jansen, and SOLDIER cadets Mick Rowley, Dient Wreck, Justus Owley, and Gus Fusel," he lists, watching Sephiroth's reaction closely as the man's face tightens with discomfort. Tseng continues, "There have been a number of candidates in and out of coma, too many to list. And there's one case of brain death, cadet Cloud Strife."

The teacup in Sephiroth's hand shatters to a thousand pieces.

-

>:3c

#Fanfiction #ff7 #svsss #tseng of the turks #sephiroth #shen qingqiu #shen yuan

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hello I was wondering if you had advice on how to continue writing a story I start writing books but can't seem to finish them

Starting Stories But Not Finishing Them

There are a few reasons why you might be struggling to finish the stories you start. We'll count them down, because the biggest one is the most important one...

#5 - You're Getting Distracted

Writer brains get very excited by new ideas. Even when we're in the middle of a story we love and are excited about, we can lose all of our focus and motivation when the right idea comes along. But there are other things that can distract us, too... anything you like to do for fun or relaxation, other projects, school and work stuff, social stuff... anything you might be thinking about or spending time on that isn't your story can derail your forward motion. And sometimes it can't be helped, so you have to do some prioritizing and see where your mental energy and effort needs to be going. If there's nothing more important than your story going on, get your mind back on your story. And if new ideas pop up, write them down in a notebook or an "idea" file to save for later. Would Rather Be Doing Other Things

#4 - You're Getting Tripped Up on Quality

The more we write, and the more we read, the more we start to realize that what we're writing isn't quite where we want it to be quality-wise, and that can be really discouraging, especially if you feel like your story has to be perfect in the first draft. But the thing to remember is that quality is the result of two things: polishing and practice. Whatever level your writing is at, no amount of polishing is going to get you above that level. Only practice can do that, and practice means starting and finishing as many stories as you can. But... whatever level you're at, your first draft isn't necessarily going to reflect that level of quality because it's a rough draft. This is why we edit and polish. So, focus on finishing the story, then worry about polishing it up. And don't give yourself a hard time because you're not writing at a higher level than you're at.

Concentrate on Quantity at First, Not Quality #3 - You've Lost Motivation/Inspiration

Sometimes you just lose the spark of inspiration that made you want to write the story in the first place. Maybe you're just bored. Maybe you've forgotten what first excited you about the story. Maybe you're just not in a writing mood. Sometimes, doing exercises to rekindle your interest in the story can help. Try:

Guide: How to Rekindle Your Motivation to Write Getting Unstuck: Motivation Beyond Mood Boards & Playlists #2 - You're stuck on Something That Isn't Working

Stories are like a house of cards in that one misplaced “card” can bring the whole thing crashing down. Sometimes you get stuck because an element or event didn’t quite work, and you can feel in your gut that something’s not right, so the wind completely leaves your sails. It's not that there's a problem with the story, it's just that there's a problem with the path it's on. Try going back through what you've already written and look for the element that isn't pulling its weight. Can you identify the moment where the story loses its fizz? Maybe the addition of a character that's not pulling their weight and is dragging the story down. Maybe a subplot that is cluttering up the story or drawing attention away from the main plot. Or maybe a scene (or several) that don't really add to the story. If you can figure out what's draining your story's energy, you can usually start writing forward again. #1 - You Don't Know Where Your Story is Going

This is the BIG ONE. This is the one that is the culprit 99% of the time for newer writers, and the reason it happens is because newer writers are less familiar with plot and story structure. Your story's plot is the sequence of events that makes up the narrative, and this sequence of events is driven by a conflict. That conflict could be an external conflict (like having to defeat an evil sorceress... aka plot-driven), an internal conflict (like being conflicted between what you want and what someone else wants for you... aka character-driven), or a combination of both. Your story's structure is the order and placement of your story's events.

The type of story you're telling and the way you want to tell it will decide what kind of plot points fill out this framework. The rising action will be kicked off by a catalyst/inciting incident. The climax may be preceded by a dark moment. The denouement may be followed by a final image. It's up to you to plot that out.

Basic Story Structure Plot Driven vs Character Driven Stories Understanding Goals and Conflict Fleshing Out Plot Ideas Creating a Detailed Story Outline

*** However, if you do choose to plot out your story using a known story structure guide, like Save the Cat! or the Snowflake Method, just remember you don't have to stick to it exactly. Always do what works best for your story.

Also: even accomplished writers who long ago mastered plot and story structure can still struggle with knowing where their story is going. That's because stories can change dramatically as you write them, and sometimes you get to the middle of your story and realize it's not going where you thought it was. That can lead to a "back to square one" moment that can be frustrating for any writer, but sitting down to do a little bit of plotting almost always helps you get back on track.

I hope this helps!

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