#my brain is full of ideas and they are not letting off

[thewertsearch]

ERIDAN: for all that trainin you did ERIDAN: i wwouldnt be the incredible holy wwizard i am noww wwithout your help […] KANAYA: I Hope You Use Your Magnificent Powers Of Light And Hope For Goodness And Purity And Lets Not Forget Science

At this point. Kanaya is Human Sarcasming better than most actual humans.

ERIDAN: dont wworry im all ovver that shit you dont evven knoww KANAYA: Uh Oh I Hope That Didnt Come Off As Too Sarcastic […] KANAYA: Please Dont Take Too Much Offense ERIDAN: haha damn kan if thats your idea of offense bein made then i honestly gotta fuckin wworry for you ERIDAN: tell you wwhat ill givve you some lessons in dealin out the dark umbrage to repay you for your tutelage in the wwhite science

I think Dave taught Kanaya more about the art of trolling in a single conversation than Eridan could in an entire lifetime.

That guy can troll better than most actual trolls.

ERIDAN: wwhats that thing there KANAYA: The Matriorb KANAYA: I Was About To Go Hatch It In The Core To Restore Our Race ERIDAN: that sounds ERIDAN: hopeful […] ERIDAN: if theres goin to be any sort a hope for our race as the prince of hope i demand to be invvolvved ERIDAN: so dont go anywwhere wwithout me got it […] KANAYA: Fine

I’m all for the construction of neo-Alternia, but I really don't think Eridan should be on the planning committee, unless we also want a neo-hemospectrum.

Honestly, the only trolls I'd really trust to rebuild their society are the bottom half of the hemospectrum, and possibly Gamzee. The other highbloods can go sit in the corner.

ERIDAN: its not magic wwe talked about this kar KARKAT: RIGHT, IT'S POWERED BY SCIENCE, I FORGOT. KARKAT: OR HOPE. WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT MEANS

I don’t see how Hope translates to a robot-exploding beam, though.

If it was wizards he was blowing up, I’d understand, because it would be consistent with my theory that he's weaponizing his hatred of FRAUDULENT MAGIC. If anything, his Science Wand should strengthen a robot, since it's a product of the TRUEST SCIENCES.

ERIDAN: i had a harder time than anybody wwith this game ERIDAN: it wwas really fuckin unfair wwhat challenges i got saddled wwith ERIDAN: i wwoulda fuckin MURDERED for a land full of a lot a harmless brains and fire ERIDAN: but no ERIDAN: it wwas so lonely ERIDAN: hey guys anybody wwant to come hang out wwith me in the land a wwrath and angels

That sounds cool, though. Angels, I assume, are how Hope is represented in his Land, and I’m sure Eridan synergized well with its wrath. I wonder what physical form it took?

ERIDAN: anybody at all i knoww it isnt anythin like one of your flippin land picnics ERIDAN: anybody please ill evven settle for the kittycat shipper cavve girl

You can't complain about loneliness and then insult your ‘friend’ in the same breath. That's not how any of this works, and the fact that you're unaware of this should tell you everything you need to know about why you're lonely.

So Karkat does know about Nepeta’s little crush. He is a relationship aficionado, after all.

Poor Nepeta.

I sort of figured Karkat didn't reciprocate her feelings. He's preoccupied with plenty of other redrom prospects, and he basically never mentions her.

Karkat’s honestly a little too nice to Eridan. He’s being such a bro here, but what Eridan actually needs is to be brought down to size a little.

Granted, I think Eridan needs a bigger shock to the system than an angry tirade from Karkat. I feel like Terezi could tear him to pieces - but since it's unfair to expect her to put up with him alone, I'd put both the Scourge Sisters on this assignment. >:)

What Karkat is aptly demonstrating here is that there’s a difference between an Eridan kind of asshole and a Karkat kind of asshole.

Let's be real, here - Karkat's a dick. But he's a dick who holds no true malice, knows when he's crossed a line, and is willing to sincerely apologize for his past actions, and make amends.

Eridan possesses none of these qualities, which is why he sat alone in his house for a month while Karkat befriended the entire cast.

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5.2 #3321 #s119

[disasterbuck]

end on a song

Buddie | T | 850 words

Slamming the front door, Buck stalked over to stand in front of where Eddie was seated on the couch. Eddie, a moment ago simply staring glassy-eyed at the TV, now blinked up at him and smiled.

"Hey, Buck."

"So here's the thing – It's all your fault." Buck began pacing back and forth in front of him, visibly agitated. His voice rose slightly with each word. "I can't stop thinking about you and it's making me insane. I mean, I was fine yesterday, right? Completely fine! But then today it's just been one thing after another ever since this morning when you walked into work with your stupid messy hair and the stupid sun shining on you and your stupid perfect eyes which took my breath away.

"And I know you must've noticed how clumsy I was after that. I hit my head on the ceiling beam twice. I tripped over my own bag for fuck's sake!And then I gave you the wrong equipment four times, Eddie! Seriously, I'm never that bad at my job!"

"Uh, what…?" Eddie blinked rapidly, extremely startled.

"I'm not finished. This is your fault because if you weren't so gorgeous I'd still be completely in control of all my faculties! But you are gorgeous so I'm completely losing my mind. I can't stop thinking about you, ever. I wanna run my fingers through your hair and stare into your eyes and grab your hips and pull you close. I wanna—"

"You what!?"

"—your mouth and hear you moan. I wanna rip your clothes off and get my hands all over you so I can map every inch of your body and get to know it even better than I know my own. I want—" Buck's voice cracked slightly and he closed his eyes, taking a moment to swallow past the lump in his throat before continuing, "I wanna wake up next to you every day and cook your favourite meals whenever you want them and I wanna take you on the most romantics dates you've ever had and hold your hand and take your last name."

Sucking in a deep breath, Buck slowly let it out and opened his eyes again, fixing them on the TV in the corner. He could feels tears welling up in his eyes and tried to blink them away before Eddie would see them.

Eddie was silent.

After what felt like an eternity, Buck forced himself to look away from the TV and over to where Eddie was still sitting on the couch.

He looked like he'd just seen a ghost. Eddie's face was pale and his eyes were wide, staring in disbelief. Buck felt his heart race fearfully in his chest and suddenly his mind was full of oh god oh no I shouldn't have said anything I've ruined it all and he's never gonna be able to look me in the eye ever again fuck I should've kept my mouth shut I should've—

Eddie opened his mouth to speak, let out an embarrassing squeak, and went bright red.

Buck wished he'd retained at least one brain cell that could've told him this was a bad idea before making it to Eddie's house and spilling all his feelings into the air between them.

He was just trying to gather his thoughts into a semblance of an apology when Eddie abruptly stood and closed the distance between them with a single step. Buck's breath caught in his throat; Eddie's hands lifted to his face and cupped his burning cheeks.

Soft. That was Buck's first thought as their lips met. And then he had no thoughts – or at least none that were capable of being put into words. His skin was on fire, his fears were silenced, and he found himself with fistfuls of Eddie's shirt in his hands.

Time blurred as they kissed. It lasted a lifetime; it lasted a second.

Then Eddie pulled back and Buck stumbled, reality crashing down upon him as he clung to the front of his best friend's shirt and stared into those gorgeous brown eyes that could make him forget his own name.

"That was… um." Eddie swallowed nervously and let his hands slip down to rest on Buck's neck. "I mean… You rambled a lot. But… Were you trying to say that, uh, you're in love with me?"

"Didn't I say that?" Buck asked.

"No." Eddie shook his head. "You said a lot, but you didn't actually say—"

"I'm in love with you," Buck interrupted. He felt Eddie's fingers flex against his skin. "I saw you this morning and you were so fucking beautiful it just hit me. I'm in love with you. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you."

Eddie's eyes shone, brimming with emotion.

"Good," he said after quietly clearing his throat. "Because I'm in love with you too."

Heart singing inside his chest, Buck shifted his hands to Eddie's hips and pulled him close. Their bodies fit together like one entity, thrumming in time with each other, and neither of them knew who initiated the second kiss.

-

Tags: (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)

@dluoser @taketheplanspinitsideways @loudenthusiastic @wallywise @mxrcjqckspnchqsc

@i-am-married-to-my-fandom @therosesaredying @stillfuckingtired @classtrialguru @speggle

@awesome-igi @natnuszsstuff @olliesrants @crazyfangirlallert @delirium1995

@brah3280 @meanceclosetohell @anythingeverythingallofthetime @izzysbeans @jesuiscenseedormir

@darkrose6578

#buddie #buddie 911 #buddie fic #buck x eddie #evan buckley/eddie diaz #evan buckley #eddie diaz #usermoonsharky #disaster writes

[stevestark]

Eddie only gets told snippets of everyone else's Upside Down experiences after Vecna, like, the sanitized version. The story told by each person but omitting the most personally traumatizing parts. Which means he doesn't know much about Steve and Robin Versus The Russians. Not in its full, gory detail.

So he doesn't think anything of it when Steve has a day off and wants to hang out, just asks if he minds coming with him to Indianapolis. Steve says yes immediately because he just doesn't want to spend another day alone in his big empty house, even if it means several hours in Eddie's deathtrap of a vehicle.

But then they get there and Eddie is parking outside a tattoo parlor and saying he got a last minute booking with his favorite artist and that he's so excited to cover some of the scars he has from the bats and Steve can barely hear him over the fuzziness that seems to be filling his entire brain.

He lets Eddie guide him into the shop, watches Eddie and the tattooist make small talk, follows Eddie to the table, sits on the stool next to him, and tries to look anywhere but at the tattoo gun.

Eddie doesn't notice at first, too jazzed about the idea he and the artist have come up with, blabbering about how he can finally take his shirt off at the lake again. It's not until the line work is done that he realizes Steve's breathing has gone shallow.

He asks the artist if they can take a smoke break before filling the tattoo in with color, and he gently takes Steve's hand and pulls him out back to ask what's wrong. Steve's too deep into a panic attack to answer, so Eddie just puts Steve on the side opposite his new work and pulls him in close, squeezing him as tight as he can and just gently shushing him, running his hand through Steve's hair.

After a few minutes, Steve's breathing easier, and Eddie asks him again if he's okay.

"I'm fine, I just... I hate needles. Ever since the Russians drugged me and Robin. Can't be around them."

Eddie frowns, realizing this must be one of the parts of the story he knows they were keeping from him. "Why did Russians drug you?"

Steve sighs, pulls out of Eddie's grasp, and sits on the ground against the back wall of the tattoo shop. "Dustin picked up a Russian transmission, summer of '85. We translated it, found their secret base under the mall, and realized they were opening the Gate back up. But then we were seen, and to buy time, Robin and I let ourselves get caught so Erica and Dustin could escape and get help."

Eddie sits next to Steve, their knees bumping. "Erica Sinclair? God, that kid really is the most badass of all of us."

"Yeah," Steve laughs. "Anyway, the Russians beat the shit out of me, asking who do you work for and shit like that. Didn't believe me when I said Scoops Ahoy. So they brought in this Doctor and he drugged me and Robin to get us to talk. Just straight up jammed a big ass needle full of mystery drugs into my neck. Ever since then, needles freak me the fuck out. They had to strap me down in the hospital just to get an IV in me when Robin insisted I get the bat bites checked out."

Eddie runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. "I'm sorry, Steve. I never would've brought you here with me if I knew."

"I know," Steve says quietly. "'S'not your fault. I'm trying to get better at being open about things like this but it's just..."

"Hard. Yeah. I wake up screaming most nights, and I can tell Wayne feels bad because he doesn't know what to do. Because he doesn't know what's causing it."

"Yeah," Steve sighs.

They sit quietly out there for another ten minutes before the tattooist comes back out to see if Eddie wants to keep going, and he glances at Steve, sees the way he's gone pale and rigid, and shakes his head. "Sorry, man, think we're gonna have to pick this up another time."

Eddie stands, grabs Steve's hand and hauls him to his feet, and walks inside, never once letting go of Steve. He sets an appointment for a few weeks from now, on a day he knows Steve is working, and they leave the shop.

The second they're in the car, Eddie sees the color returning to Steve's face, and he drives aimlessly through the city, finally stopping at a combination bookstore/cafe.

"Come on then, big boy," he says with a teasing grin. "I do believe I promised to teach you about Hobbits."

#steddie fic #drabble #stranger things fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #just a passing thought I had whilst watching Steve and Robin get drugged

[jenz4jayz]

Hiii- so I’m coming over to your ask box cuz I drafted a whole long ass answer to your ask about “sitting next to (fav om character) and reaching over his lap to grab something, ass on full display.” Cuz that sounds like sm fun!!- 🤭 but my draft is just gone?? Idk what happened, if I deleted it instead of saving it or tumblr just randomly ate it 🥲 Lucifer, Levi, Satan, Mammon and Diavolo all gone 😭 sorry I’m being a bit dramatic jskjsks

Anyways I re-wrote the main one about Diavolo he’s been rotting my brain again-

Like say you’re sitting next to Diavolo maybe having a movie night together!!!- some old Disney or whatever you like playing on the TV and your DDD goes off. It’s not a big deal you just ignore it the first time, after all it’s on the little table on the other side of Dia and you reallyyyy don’t want to move.

A few more texts chime in and you huff, mumbling ‘Sorry, just let me get that.’ and leaning forward and across Diavolo’s lap~

Diavolo leans back automatically, making more room for you to stretch across his lap and is immediately rewarded, when your skirt rides up and he gets a full view of your ass. ‘n you just so happen to be wearing cute red underwear too~

Now there are two ways I could see it going after that 🤭

Either Diavolo can’t stop himself and slaps your ass, not too hard it’s more a playful kind of slap. When his hand lands on your ass he gives it a good squeeze, keeping you pinned in his lap and telling you just how lovely your ass looks ‘n feels~ ofc that’s gonna go further too-

Ooor he lets you get your DDD and sit back down, like nothing happened. You can answer your texts (or tell whoever’s texting you to fuck off for a bit) and after awhile Diavolo’s hand reaches over to your thigh. Running his fingers up and down the exposed skin, getting closer and closer to your barely covered slit….just tasing you until the movie is over and then acting like nothing happened.

this is a lot more rambling then the first draft but oh well rn I’m still pissed at tumblr.

But I love you sm 💋 <333 ‘n thanks for sending me such an amazing idea sweets <3

HEHEHHAHAHAH❤️ I LOVE YOU TOO ROOO~

#asked and answered #obey me #obey me x reader #diavolo x reader

[notjaexiee]

CHERRY LIPGLOSS SUCKS

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: You and Regina have a long-standing history together, and now, with your exes pairing up in a new relationship, you are reluctantly forced to work together to win them back. Will the familiarity bring you closer, or will old habits resurface, leading to further tensions?

Warnings: manipulative regina, profanity, beginner fanfic writer:so mid writing, mentions of weed and mozzarella sticks

Words:1.3k

A/N:Thank you so much for all the support on Part 1, especially to that one user who reblogged and said "go read or u suck" I LOVE U.

Regina's words echoed in my mind like a stuck record."

"Ill see you tomorrow, after school, underneath the bleache-"

"Dude!" Mae jolted me out of my thoughts, snapping. My brain instantly refocused on the present moment.

The final class had just 5 minutes left, and I had to meet Regina. I hadn't had a genuine and meaningful conversation with Regina in a while. Our last talk had taken place years ago, and it didn't exactly conclude on the best terms.

-

"Did You really have to be that honest?!"

-

"Y-Yeah?" I stammered as I shook my head, desperately trying to clear my mind.

"Are you even paying attention?" she asked with an eye roll.

Trying to cover up my shit, I responded with a snort, "Of course!" hoping she would buy my lie.

Unconvinced, she asked, "So, when is Anders' soccer game?"

Ander plays soccer?

I gulped, "Tomorrow?" I replied, my voice smaller.

"Ander has asthma, dumbass." She pointed out

My shoulders sagged as I let out a resigned sigh, muttering under my breath, "fuck you, reverse psychology."

"You good?"

I attempted to brush off Mae's concern, replying, "It's nothing."

She gave me a skeptical look, countering, "Bullshit. You didn't even touch those mozzarella sticks I brought you. You love mozzarella sticks."

"I was full," I argued lamely, attempting to defend myself.

Mae raised a skeptical eyebrow, reminding me, "You guzzle down a Red Bull every morning for breakfast. Your 'full' card doesn't fly, genius."

"I'm just not in the mood today, okay?" I reasoned again

"Fine," Mae conceded, slightly annoyed. "I'm going to go help Brynn roll some. Want to join?"

I shook my head, declining her offer.

"Nah, I have something to do," I responded, already turning to leave the classroom.

Mae looked at me suspiciously, raising an eyebrow. "Okay..." she replied, still doubting my excuse.

I was growing increasingly annoyed as I waited for Regina under the stinking bleachers. The place absolutely reeked, and I had been tapping my foot in irritation for far too long.

"I'm a bit surprised you actually showed up."

Regina stated as she approached me with a confident stride.

I responded in a sarcastic tone, rolling my eyes, "Yeah, blackmailing me about my friends really works wonders."

I glanced around, surprised not to see Gretchen and Karen accompanying her, as usual.

I couldn't help but comment, "Where are your backscratching bootlickers?" I raised an eyebrow.

With a slight tilt of her head she responded with a snarky remark, "Your mouth is still as vulgar as ever, i guess some things never change."

"As if you're any better." I mumbled under my breath, too low for her to hear

"Woah woah, dating!?" I replied, thoroughly taken aback. "No way am i going to be your girlfriend!"

Regina quickly corrected me, "Pretend." She rolled her eyes, growing impatient with me. "Do you want Tina back?" She asked, her annoyance clear. "Then there's no question about it.

I wrestled with the idea, questioning if it was even worth the effort.

My face twisted in doubt as I questioned her plan. "How do you even know this will work?"

Regina's voice took on a venomous tone as she snapped, "Can you just shut up and trust me?"

My scoff turned into a mocking laugh. "Trust you, Regina?" I taunted

-

I sat alone in my darkened room, tears streaming down my face as I clutched my teddy bear tightly for comfort. My room looked like a cyclone had gone through it; pillows and blankets scattered every which way, and pieces of paper and pictures torn up. I could hear my mother's concerned voice outside my door, saying Regina wanted to talk to me. I shouted back, my voice shaking with anger, "Tell her to fuck off!"

-

I scoffed in disbelief. "Right, because the last time I trusted you really worked out well for me." The memory of her betrayal still stung.

"Can we not discuss that right now?" Regina replied sharply, but my anger remained.

The audacity of this bitch is terrifying!

"We're going to have to work together, so if you keep bringing it up, you're just making this more uncomfortable than it already is."

My anger gradually faded, replaced by a begrudging acceptance. I hated to admit it, but she was right

— we I couldn't keep dwelling on the past if we were going to make this plan work.

I reluctantly agreed, "Fine," Part of me yearned for an acknowledgement, for her to address the past, but her lack of response just left me feeling disappointed.

Regina sneered disdainfully, her gaze traveling along my entire body, her eyes judging me. "What the fuck are you wearing?" she taunted, as if I had committed a fashion felony.

I looked down at my clothes, feeling a bit self-conscious. "What?" I replied defensively, unsure of the issue.

Regina abruptly grabbed my wrist, her touch surprisingly warm. Without a word, she began pulling me towards her red Jeep.

"where are you tak—" I started, but she quickly cut me off, her words laced with annoyance.

"I am not going to be seen with an outdated loser," she retorted, her grip not relenting as we approached her vehicle.

I stumbled slightly as she practically dragged me along, trying to protest, "It's just a band tee!"

My wrist felt the absence of her touch as Regina turned to open the driver's door of her Jeep.

As she settled into the driver's seat I glanced back at the passenger and the back seat, debating where to sit.

Opting for the safer choice, I reached out for the back door handle before Regina interrupted me.

"Sit in the passenger seat, idiot," she ordered, her tone cutting through the air.

Reluctantly, I opened the passenger door and slid into the seat beside Regina, sitting a slight distance away from her. As she started the jeep and began driving, I turned my gaze towards the window.

I tried once more to get an answer, my eyes still glued to the outside world.

"Seriously," I persisted, "where are we going?"

Regina's response was brief, "Shopping," she replied. "If I'm going to pretend to date you, you at least need some proper clothes."

The cafeteria felt oddly silent as a murmur of whispers surrounded me. I couldn't tell if it was my anxiety playing tricks on me, but the atmosphere felt eerily hushed.

"I hate this," I muttered under my breath, feeling the weight of everyone's gazes upon me. Wearing the clothes Regina had deemed socially acceptable yesterday made me feel even more out of place right now.

My train of thought came to a halt as my phone buzzed with a notification. It was a message from Regina: "Stop standing there like a statue. Come sit with us."

I glanced at my phone, finding a flurry of messages from my friends group chat. "Where are you?" and "What the hell are you wearing" filled the screen. I reluctantly raised my gaze to our usual table, only to see my friends staring at me, bewildered. Swiftly muting my phone, I headed towards the plastics table.

'Took you long enough,' she muttered, as I approached, her eyes glued to her phone, no doubt scrolling through Instagram.

Gretchen, a hint of false enthusiasm in her expression, looks up from her phone. "Why's she here?" she asks, peering at Regina through raised eyebrows.

Regina retorts with a deadpan tone, rolling her eyes slightly, "To sit with us.”

Gretchen, her voice rising in pitch, exclaims, "What?! She can't-" only to be cut off by Regina's firm interject.

"Sit," Regina says, her inflection leaving no room for argument.

I hesitantly moved to sit across them.

"Hey, sorry- uh," I greet, looking between Karen and Gretchen with a mix of confusion and frustration. "Why am I sitting here? This is not part of the plan!" I whisper-yelled at Regina, leaning in closer to avoid being overheard.

With a roll of her eyes, Regina replied, "Just go with it." She set her phone down, adding, "Tina's watching".

I glanced around the cafeteria, spotting Tina seated with her clique, watching me intently. In that moment, our eyes met, confirming that the first step of Regina's plan had been successfully executed.

Step one:Complete

A/N: next part is cadys arrival😱🥶

#mean girls #mean girls musical #regina george #regina george imagine #regina george x reader #regina george x fem!reader #regina george x you

[maliceofminds]

queen the jennifers body au…..we are thinking the same thoughts i swear!!! ive been sitting in my spell circle manifesting this I would read the fuck out of it!!! screaming crying foaming at the mouth…it’s perfect🧎🏻🧎🏻 🧎🏻

Fr thinking the same thoughts. You wanna have a sleep over and talk about hot murder lesbians and eating boys?🤭

But I swear to you I’m gonna do it. And I’m gonna fix the original. I swear, if my hot friend who wanted me bad was killing boys I would support her like go off babe!!

I’m not at home at the moment but as soon as I get there and have my laptop back things will be happening. Shit will hit the fan.

#i could also talk about this at length #my brain is full of ideas and they are not letting off #i feel so bad for abandoning my other fics 😭 #my long fic has been hanging in there for three months but I don’t know how to get back to writing them as teenage boys #something is wrong with me #anyways #it’s gonna be great #lesbian wolfstar #amber tag #asks #jennifers body au

[total-drama-brainrot]

psycho!noah au, what do the aftermath cast think? conversely if they dont know/dont see the show (isnt it implied to be canon in wt that they watch the show or atleast can?), how do they react to newly eliminated cast members telling them?

and then, at whatever point he gets eliminated or just whenever the cast sees him again, how do they react with that new info?

The justification I have for Noah remaining stealthed under his "stoic cynic" persona pre-reveal in this AU is a little convoluted, but I do have one. Vaguely. Which I'll try to outline here for continuities' sake.

So, to clarify; Noah only competes in Island and World Tour, just like in canon. Most things happen just like canon, with the exception of Noah lasting a little longer in Island so he and Izzy have more time to be menaces (I have no idea how I'll shift the elimination order to justify keeping him around, though). Noah's still eliminated fairly early and ends up on the Playa, where the other elimination fodder welcome him with open arms, because in Island they're only given access to the raw camera footage instead of the final cut!

I imagine it'd be pretty hard for a Brand New Show to have the manpower of a full professional editing team that can plan and prosecute the final cut of a whole ~20 minute episode in only three days (in-universe), so to keep the losers as in the know as possible in real time, they're given access to the same live camera footage Chris and Chef have, just without the confessionals.

Since the confessionals are, uh. Toilets. And no one wants to have 24/7 access to toilet stall footage.

Noah only ever really drops his ruse in the confessional, or around Izzy, so none of the losers have gotten the opportunity to see the real him in action; even when he is visible on camera, it's only during the stolen moments he shares with Izzy outside of challenges, wherein the two plot and scheme together like Pinky and the Brain. Given that the majority of them don't even bother to watch the live footage unless there's a challenge actively happening (or something else otherwise noteworthy), his true nature goes undetected amongst them as well.

And then, in Action, the show's budget and workforce increases. Suddenly, the editing team is thrice the size of Island's, and they are capable of providing a final cut of each episode within the span of 24~72 hours, allowing the show to air quicker. Which has the added bonus of allowing everyone in the peanut gallery access to the yet-to-be-aired episodes (instead of the live footage), keeping them up to date with the competition whilst also giving them the same perspective as the audience itself. Including people's confessions.

It's a good thing Noah didn't compete in Action, then. His mask of indifference lives on.

Then there's a year-long break between seasons, wherein Noah works under Chris as his personal assistant. Yada yada yada, World Tour happens. He knows that the losers are going to see his confessions. So now Noah has to choose between maintaining his persona at the sake of losing out on toying with the greater audience, or carrying on as he did in Island at the cost of revealing his 'true colours' (which, in this case, still isn't the real Noah so much as an exaggeration of his more deranged tendencies, since Noah's still essentially performing for the cameras; just with a different role).

Of course he goes with option two. He's primarily motivated by his own amusement- that was the reason for his whole charade in the first place.

(Alright, clarification over, time to actually answer the question.)

So the peanut gallery and steadily increasing number of World Tour Rejects are horrified when, in Noah's scattering of confessions- as he doesn't confess very often, so when he does it's a treat to himself and the audience- he mostly waxes poetic about how exciting each near-death experience the cast go through is, and all of the different ways he so wanted to cause the others harm (either in general, or themed around the challenges), being so much more expressive than anyone's ever seen him (concerningly so, to the point of it breaching the uncanny valley) and giddy over the prospect of performing Acts Of Incredible Violence against his castmates.

They're living in that same fearful anticipation the wider audience experienced through his tenure in Island; waiting for Noah to Drop The Act and fulfil his promises of brutal sabotage, if only to finally put an end to the constant looming threat of his self control snapping. They're horrified bystanders of a car crash waiting to happen (at least, they think they are. Noah's not actually gonna do any of the things he's suggesting, probably, but keeping the audience on their toes is one of his favourite games!) and each episode he features in is a test of both their patience and their own sanity.

Because, could you imagine watching your friends interact and be friendly with someone who (you think) is out for their blood, entirely unaware of the danger? that's literally what they're experiencing.

And Noah, because he's a little shit who thinks he's funny (he is), sometimes goes so far as to fake-out the audience by rearing up attacks against his castmates during challenges, only to shoot the nearest camera a wry wink and a sly smile as he carries on with the actual task at hand, the others none-the-wiser.

It becomes so concerning, in fact, that every new arrival is immediately checked over for any signs of injuries or Noah's Influence and hastily given the rundown on The Situation. Which is, more often than not, met with the same incredulity as Sierra's claims- until they're shown various clips of Noah's confessions, or the fake-outs and otherwise unhinged looks he teases the cameras with.

-

For the second question; I have no idea. I'm still workshopping how people will react to Noah, and how Noah in turn will react to them. Post-reveal p!Noah will, eventually, disclose the fact that he's not as bloodthirsty as he portrays himself as, but until then it's anyone's guess as to how far he'll take the bit- and who could/will get hurt in the process.

#in other words i don't know how 'dark' i want this AU to get. #do i want it as a macabre comedy? or a psychological horror with comedic aspects? do i want it gorey? #full grimdark? have noah go completely off the rails post-reveal and hunt everyone on the jet for sport? #who knows? 🤷‍♀️ i certainly don't. #i'm leaning macabre comedy with a sprinkling of horror for flavour but. again. i don't know. #either way the aftermath cast and the audience are Not having a good time. #except for izzy and eva. they're having a great time because they're in on the joke. #p!Noah is in his joker arc. he watched 2019's 'The Joker' and never recovered. #might let him bite blaineley. as a treat. i think that would be funny. #does this even make any sense? it's kind of late and i'm feeling The Eepy turn my brain to slush. #total drama #td noah #psycho!noah au #silly ideas #others' ideas #replies #tw violence #tw dark themes

[sanchoyoscribbles]

the graphic novel release reminded me I do have a dp oc that ive been severely neglecting. im so sry ms chérie I still love u 😔🫶

#madame chérie #danny phantom oc #danny phantom #dp oc #ocs #oc #i have a lot of little silly ideas with her but no energy to do enough with them so they just live in my brain for now this is all can offe #sry </3 #my sweet littol materialistic queen i wll never entirely forget u... #i wanted to draw her as a cowboy since ive seen SO MANY COWBOY DP DRAWINGS since the comic dropped #but no lets b realistic said my brain. and so u get saloon girlie chérie instead 😳 #she does deserve a full rhinestone cowgirl fit tho but energy all gone 💔 sry #fright knight #paulina sanchez

[andersdotters]

Here's an interesting thought. Does L*ney primarily deal with shame (heart) or fear (head)? Does he seek to have an identity (heart) or security (head)?

To elaborate a bit more, this is some information about the heart/feeling triad:

This is some information about the head/thinking triad:

The thing with L*ney is that both descriptions can apply to him. It's just which applies more?

For instance, L*ney presents a false identity to the world. He hides who he is because he does not want to be perceived as weak. He wants to be relied on. A big part of his lore is trying to be the big brother L*nette deserves.

On the opposite hand, L*ney is extremely anxious. He pushes himself out there and to do things when in reality he's scared and insecure. Only when he's supported by his family he's able to calm down. Without this support he loses all ability to think clearly. He's lost.

Here's what I'm deciding between:

Type 3 (heart/feeling)

Type 6 (head/thinking)

Or Type 7 (head/thinking)

The odd thing is that the description for type 3 matches the most, but as a whole, I can't help but feel that fear and anxiety (head) are more a core part of L*ney's personality and struggles than shame (heart). Proving his worth (heart) seems to matter less to him than ensuring his security—his family (head).

So I'm caught at a loss.

#character analysis #i am not typing his full name or tagging bc i dont want this found in search haha #if any of you guys have any ideas let me know #if you want to read where i got the resources from its 'wisdom of the enneagram' #if you google that with 'pdf' you will be taken to some archive website where you can download it #the pages i'm specifically referencing is 54-59 #tho it's best to start from 51 #let me say i wrote this without doing any research haha #i'm going off of my mental info from a few months back #ugh #my gut is telling me 6 my head is telling me 3 #an argument can be said that his anxiety is driven by not living up to what's expected of him #but it seems to me what matters the most to him is ensuring that his family (his security) is safe #but technically speaking does that have anything to even do with ennea? #i dont think so #this is so annoying i know the answer is right there clear as day but i cant see it #i'm in brain blast mode right now i can't think straight haha

[foone]

I see a lot of people joking about the adhd thing of "I have a appointment/phone call at 3pm, guess I won't do anything all day!"

But no one seems to make the connection that it's a time blindness thing. One of the symptoms of ADHD is not having a good and accurate sense of time. And not doing stuff prior to an event with a hard deadline is an obvious coping mechanism for that.

Can I go to the store? It's 10am and the appointment is at 3pm. How long does going to the store take? An hour? Three hours? Five hours? I DON'T KNOW!

I get anxious trying to do things before appointments because I'm aware that I don't know how long those things take, and that if I think I do, I may be very wrong. Too often I've been like "hey I can walk to the corner store and grab a drink, that'll take like 15 minutes!" and then an hour later I get back and whoops my rice has burnt.

Plus there's also the fact that ADHD people know that motivation and focus is a two-edged sword.

Like, let's say you decide to play a video game. You've got time, you can pause/save whenever, so this should be a perfect fit to make good use of your waiting-time. So you start playing and WHOOPS you get really focused for some reason today (because people with ADHD do not get to pick when their brain decides to focus) and the next time you look at the clock it's 2:49 and you haven't showered or dressed and the appointment is 30 minutes away. Fuck. (you could have set an alarm, but now you're asking people with the forgetting-things-and-time-ignoring condition to remember it set alarms)

And with motivation, it can be almost worse. Instead of playing a game, you so something useful or creative. You clean your room or fix your plumbing or write a story or draw a picture. And suddenly it's great. Your brain is firing on all cylinders. You've got all the motivation you can ask for, and you are FLYING. the ideas are brilliant, your hands are nimble, you're getting stuff done you've been putting off for weeks or months. And then the alarm goes off. Time to go to your appointment. Fuck.

You drive there, your brain still full of ideas and plans. But by the time you get back, the motivation is gone. You may still have the ideas but you don't have the drive to write them down. You can't force yourself to do it. Your sink is still in pieces. Your room is half-cleaned, and you have to shove all the sorted clothes into one big bin just so you have somewhere to sleep. You've left things half finished again, in a cycle that has been repeating your whole fucking life. It seems sometimes that nothing ever gets finished.

So next time you don't even start. There's not time. You've been burnt too many times. Why add another half-completed project to your pile of shame?

My point is that people seem to be going "lol I can't do anything all day if I have an appointment at 3pm" like this is a quirky "oh I'm so scatterbrained!" weirdness they alone have, and not a major complication of a disabling mental illness.

(and that's not even getting into the secondary effects. If you know that having an appointment ruins your whole damn day, you're going to avoid them. Even when it's things like "going to that party" or "meeting your friends for a drink/game" or "going to a movie with that cute girl from your math class". Things you should enjoy. Things that'd help you be social. Things that make you feel human.)

#ADHD

[keets-writing-corner]

Thinking a LOT about Lucifer in the latest Hazbin episode. Idk what I was expecting but not this??

As I was watching my immediate thought was just "huh... Lucifer is kinda of weird..." but as the episode went on I realized the issue

the dude is off the chain depressed, like he says it as a joke but holy cow it is SO BAD

He's manically just creating rubber ducks cuz his daughter really like it that one time but it's empty, it's never good enough but he keeps doing it, maybe cuz he doesn't know how to pass the time otherwise.

like I get the feeling he HAS better things he SHOULD be doing than making rubber duck after rubber duck. At first I was like, "Bruh why isn't the king of hell doing anything?" aaaaand then it became clear...

The dude is disassociating so bad he can barely hold a conversation let alone remember information. He clearly WANTS to, he wants to be involved with his daughter so bad, he wants to care about the things she's doing so bad, but his depression keeps interfering. It's like he can only hear every other word and he grasps onto the ones he does hear semi-out of context. Like you can see every time he catches something that he hadn't before and he just "well shit I didn't catch that part"

and that's why he reacts so weird when people talk to him. He is struggling so bad to engage with the conversation he's only getting 50% of it

does that look like the face of a man who knows what the hell the conversation is even about??? he is STRUGGLING

like Charlie spent so long telling him about the hotel, and he STILL didn't understand what she wanted. Yeah it comes off as ditzy but literally I've been in that position where your brain just "nope, not doing this right now" and nerfs your conversation comprehension. So as someone who's BEEN in that position, to me it feels exactly like what he's dealing with. He's sorta engaged with the conversation, but only as much as his brain will allow

For example, when I'm dealing with this, this is what someone talking to me feels like this where the crossed out parts are what I missed and bold is what I catch, "Hey! You know I was thinking for dinner we could either make some chicken with rice? But if you don't feel like cooking, pasta is super easy and you love that right? What do you want to do?" you can kinda get that someone is trying to talk to you about dinner, and towards the end you get the impression that they asked something that needs your input so you can decently put 2 and 2 together and try and pass off, but crucial bits were left out, I would have no idea that either chicken or pasta is in the conversation only having heard "rice". When someone is just talking at me, I can decently pass off as being engaged but the second I'm required to participate in the conversation I'm screwed. Seem familiar? At which point I have 2 options, try to give a bullshit answer, or admit that I missed what they were saying and ask them to repeat

Lucifer, unfortunately, is trying so damn hard to hide that he's dealing with like 24/7 dissociation, so he can't admit that he's missing entire chunks of the conversation, hence his really weird replies. He does eventually get the full picture and then he and Charlie start having the real conversation

Also, the Alastor/Lucifer rivalry was hilarious but also really indicative of more of what Lucifer is dealing with

Alastor is, unfortunately, really good at picking up people's insecurities, and thanks to Charlie's description earlier and watching Lucifer clearly trying to overcompensate, he immediately picks up on the fact that Lucifer KNOWS he struggles to be a good dad (we know cuz it's cuz of the depression, hard to be engaged when your brain keeps turning off) and decides to rub salt in the wound by pretending he's been acting as a surrogate father to Charlie. Now why Alastor decided to pick a fight with the king of hell is beyond me, I do not understand Alastor (and I LIKE IT) (maybe it's cuz Alastor thinks he's hot shit and was expecting Lucifer to at least have heard of him but Lucifer just treats him like a nobody? who knows)(why would Lucifer listen to radio anyways when he can't even pay attention to a conversation it'd just be white noise)

But yeah I just was expecting someone who oozed either charisma or presence and instead I got a depressed dad who's dissociating so bad he can barely function and be present in his life. The only thing it seems he CAN do is make rubber ducks cuz his daughter really liked it that one time

Idk Lucifer is tragic to me. Whatever the full details of what heavan did to him absolutely broke him and he can't deal with it. He's aware of it, and he doesn't know how to fix it, so he tries to over compensate and sorta makes an ass out of himself but no one says or does anything cuz this guy is supposed to be THE king of hell

Suddenly it's making a lot more sense why he just rolls over and lets heaven do what it wants and even told Charlie to go in his place the start of the show. He's not in any headspace to hold a basic conversation let alone negotiate! He didn't even know who Alastor was, he's been so out of touch

idk I like him, he seems sweet, I hope Charlie brings some light back into his life. He really needs to get out of that rubber duck room

#hazbin spoilers #hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #analysis #dissociation #look idk what to tell you all #I watched the episode and everything makes so much more sense #when you realize he's only intaking like 50-60% of the conversations #he's not bad at listening his brain is literally preventing him from getting everything #literally I've been there #the difference between him and me tho #is that he can't show it #he's the king of hell #he has to bluff his way through conversations #but yeah literally rewatch the episode with this in mind #and watch him reply to the things he DID catch #anyways #NEW BLORBO???? #who'd've thought I would go into Hazbin Hotel #and come out with freaking LUCIFER as my favorite character #I love him #he's so sad

[oceantornadoo]

your weighted blanket (simon riley x f!reader)

could be part of this two lieutenants series but it’s standalone

—

“you know what i want?”

“wha’?”

“a weighted blanket.”

simon turned away from his bedroom desk to stare at you, his dark eyes squinting incredulously.

“what?! i think it’d help me sleep.”

“wha’ the fuck is a weighted blanket.”

you huffed a sigh. “it’s literally a weighted blanket simon. having weight pressing down on you helps you sleep, it’s scientifically proven.” you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as you laid back on his bed.

turning off his desk lamp, he made his way to his bed. he joined you on top of the covers, giving you plenty of space. keeping it platonic. not that he wanted to, but that was another thing.

“can’t jus’ have some sop lay on you?” the words hurt coming out, but it was the only thing he could say. desperately looking for a sign that you were talking to someone as you were so tightlipped about your escapades until after they ended.

“i’m on a man break. they all suck.” no one measured up to the unending care simon gave you, even if he was just a friend. just a friend who lets you come into his room every night, talking yourself to sleep. just a friend who never forgets your favorite body wash or candle scent on supply runs.

“they don’t know how to treat a woman like you.” his words echoed in the dark, ideas of what they meant bouncing around in your brain. “a woman like me?” silence. “don’t be mean, si.”

fuck he was so stupid. needed to watch his tone better, like gaz was always telling him. “dove, jus’ meant a smart independent woman like yourself. yer lookin’ for a partner and they’re look for a mother or a fuck. or both.” your jaw dropped. “oh. thanks.” his words thickened the air. no one had ever talked about you like that, like you were something to be treasured, not kept. like he respected you.

“if you really need a weighted blanket i-“ “yeah?” you sounded too eager, but you didn’t care. you turned towards him, catching his eye in the gleam of the base lights outside his window. “could be yers. if you want. strictly platonic.” he scratched his head, looking away. embarrassed. “yeah, platonic. course, yeah. that’s fine. good, i mean.” you needed to get your act together and stop sounding like a teenager, but he just offered to be your blanket. surely that was more than platonic.

“now?”

“sure.”

you sat on his bed like a dead fish, arms at your sides. you were not about to initiate what surely would be the most awkward non-cuddle session in your life. simon pressed one large paw into the mattress, hauling his huge body up on one arm. he moved down farther on the bed, his head parallel to your ribs. then, with the uttermost care, he shifted on top of you, hovering. waiting. “you can lay on me si, it’s okay.” he released his hands slowly, the full force of his body laying on you. 250+ pounds of pure machine, a body honed from years in the military. a soldier, a sniper, a lieutenant, now at your mercy, body covering yours completely.

“not too weighted for you?” you giggled. an actual giggle from his fellow lieutenant. “no, si. not too weighted.” your hand instinctively went to his hair before you could stop yourself. “is this comfortable? you’re on my ribs.” he grunted. it actually hurt like a bitch, your bone pressing into him through layers of fat, but he was laying on you and therefore could not complain. “you can move up, i won’t mind.” well, if you were letting him. he wanted to make the most of this blanket situation, this type of intimacy so foreign to him.

simon scooted up your body and laid his head on your tits. built-in pillows, one might call them. you hand went to his hair again, slowly scratching his scalp. “this ok?” you never touched like this, had never touched him like something precious. he grunted, a yes in “ghost” as you liked to call it. you continued running your hand through his hair, surprised at the softness of his locks. his face was against your breast, and usually you’d be embarrassed, but lines had been crossed and all bets were off. his body was heavy, sure, but the weight of it was comforting. all you could think of was him, not the annoying recruit from this morning, not the bad dinner you had at the mess hall. only the smell of the base shampoo and his natural musk, something uniquely him but not gross.

all simon could hear was your heartbeat. it had quickened when he first laid down, but now it was slowing to a comforting beat. you were here, you were breathing. the gunfire and the smell of bombs in his head meant nothing as long as he had you like this, in his arms where no one could hurt you. he could feel your body relaxing, muscles losing the day’s tension and giving themselves over to sleep. as your breathing slowed and you moved to a lower, more comfortable position on his pillow, he knew time could stop and all that would matter was you, right here, with him.

--

part one part two part three part four

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod 141 #ghost call of duty #fluff #tornadothoughts #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost imagine #ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost fanfiction #cod ghost

[floraesky-a]

angst prompts | @tokushuei asked: 'save it. i don't want to hear it.' geiz to sougo

The words tossed his way instantly have an arm moving to reach out for the other but it stops, falls helplessly back at his side as lips that normally hold a happy smile instead take on a hurt frown. Geiz can be very wishy washy with him sometimes, seemingly warmer sometimes and back to cold other times. Sougo gets mixed signals from the other too much, yet he's also able to understand the others ways at times better than Geiz might realize. Geiz has every right to not want to hear him out on things for the very reason of being someone that knew of the kind of person that Sougo became in a future ( the kind of person Sougo actively works against becoming and a future he's changing ). Sougo does not grow angry or even upset with Geiz, instead he approaches the situation with understanding and unending kindness, so much so that he knows to back off and give him space and time to come around.

" Okay. " Any other words he had been about to utter before had died on his lips at the others own words, instead he is quietly uttering a small response, accepting the fact that Geiz doesn't want to hear him out right now and that's absolutely fine. He doesn't throw a tantrum, he doesn't argue to be heard, he doesn't snap off and he doesn't run his mouth ( he simply accepts it because he cares about the others feelings on things ). There's a smile, meant to be understanding and reassuring as he makes his way to exit the room, not before stopping and looking at Geiz one more time. " I'll get out of your hair for now then. " Does he want to leave without fully clearing this up? Not really no, but he cares enough about the other males feelings on the things at hand, the matters at hand and everything that could be bothering him that he feels it best to step back and let Geiz breathe.

" Geiz . . . I'm sorry. " And it's an apology for so many things, things that he hasn't even done to upset Geiz but a version of him has from a time he hasn't even lived has. It probably wasn't what Geiz wanted to hear but Sougo wanted to say it at least once before he left the other alone. He's not sure if his apology would mean a lot or if it'd probably mean nothing to Geiz for it wasn't this version of himself that needed to apologize but at the same time he still felt he needed to, someone needed to. It's complicated, it always is, he accepts that too. Life is not lived without some complications, life is actually rather full of them but the choices you make, the things you do can either make the complications ten times worse or ten times better. He hopes he's making the right choices, he's trying to ( not for himself but for Geiz and even Tsukuyomi too ). He turns to fully leave now though, feeling heavy but the heaviness is not found in that of his limbs, the heaviness seems to be found somewhere in his heart instead.

#tokushuei #// where the fuck am i going with this what is this even about why is it so complicated why is sougo thinking so hard #// ANY FUCKING WAYS #// i said anyways angst might as well full send it into something that i have no idea what it's about but shakes it #// sougo: apologizes regardless if it is wanted to be heard or not KSDJFHGJKFSLDKDJKFSLD #// i could've like taken this another way tbh but i was like yeah let's see what the brain cooks up #// instead i feel like i cooked up a fucking mess of Sougo's thoughts and far less words spoken KDSFJGDKFSLD #// sougo just: geiz #// i will never not be emo about how he is just like: okay #// because he cares he just KDSJHFGJKFSDFDJGFKSD DOESN'T WANNA UPSET HIM SDFJDGKFLSD #// iDK GEM #// my brain is small and tired i was trying #// i just wanna be normal about the sougo muse i have in my head KSDJHFGJKFLSDKFJKFDS #// anyways throws myself off the dash sorry if this makes absolutely no sense i said dial up brain #⸻ ❛ 𝐢𝐜 » tokiwa sougo.

[burntoutdaydreamer]

Weird Brain Hacks That Help Me Write

I'm a consistently inconsistent writer/aspiring novelist, member of the burnt-out-gifted-kid-to-adult-ADHD-diagnosis-pipeline, recently unemployed overachiever, and person who's sick of hearing the conventional neurotypical advice to dealing with writer's block (i.e. "write every single day," or "there's no such thing as writer's block- if you're struggling to write, just write" Like F*CK THAT. Thank you, Brenda, why don't you go and tell someone with diabetes to just start producing more insulin?)

I've yet to get to a point in my life where I'm able to consistently write at the pace I want to, but I've come a long way from where I was a few years ago. In the past five years I've written two drafts of a 130,000 word fantasy novel (currently working on the third) and I'm about 50,000 words in on the sequel. I've hit a bit of a snag recently, but now that I've suddenly got a lot of time on my hands, I'm hoping to revamp things and return to the basics that have gotten me to this point and I thought I might share.

1) My first draft stays between me and God

I find that I and a lot of other writers unfortunately have gotten it into our heads that first drafts are supposed to resemble the finished product and that revisions are only for fixing minor mistakes. Therefore, if our first draft sucks that must mean we suck as writers and having to rewrite things from scratch means that means our first draft is a failure.

I'm here to say that is one of the most detrimental mentalities you can have as a writer.

Ever try drawing a circle? You know how when you try to free-hand draw a perfect circle in one go, it never turns out right? Whereas if you scribble, say, ten circles on top of one another really quickly and then erase the messy lines until it looks like you drew a circle with a singular line, it ends up looking pretty decent?

Yeah. That's what the drafting process is.

Your first draft is supposed to suck. I don't care who you are, but you're never going to write a perfect first draft, especially if you're inexperienced. The purpose of the first draft is to lay down a semi-workable foundation. A really loose, messy sketch if you will. Get it all down on paper, even if it turns out to be the most cliche, cringe-inducing writing you've ever done. You can work out those kinks in the later drafts. The hardest part of the first draft is the most crucial part: getting started. Don't stress yourself out and make it even harder than it already is.

If that means making a promise to yourself that no one other than you will ever read your first draft unless it's over your cold, dead body, so be it.

2) Tell perfectionism to screw off by writing with a pen

I used to exclusively write with pencil until I realized I was spending more time erasing instead of writing.

Writing with a pen keeps me from editing while I right. Like, sometimes I'll have to cross something out or make notes in the margins, but unlike erasing and rewriting, this leaves the page looking like a disaster zone and that's a good thing.

If my writing looks like a complete mess on paper, that helps me move past the perfectionist paralysis and just focus on getting words down on the page. Somehow seeing a page full of chicken scratch makes me less worried about making my writing all perfect and pretty- and that helps me get on with my main goal of fleshing out ideas and getting words on a page.

3) It's okay to leave things blank when you can't think of the right word

My writing, especially my first draft, is often filled with ___ and .... and (insert name here) and red text that reads like stage directions because I can't think of what is supposed to go there or the correct way to write it.

I found it helps to treat my writing like I do multiple choice tests. Can't think of the right answer? Just skip it. Circle it, come back to it later, but don't let one tricky question stall you to the point where you run out of brain power or run out of time to answer the other questions.

If I'm on a role, I'm not gonna waste it by trying to remember that exact word that I need or figure out the right transition into the next scene or paragraph. I'm just going to leave it blank, mark to myself that I'll need to fix the problem later, and move on.

Trust me. This helps me sooooo much with staying on a roll.

4) Write Out of Order

This may not be for everyone, but it works wonders for me.

Sure, the story your writing may need to progress chronologically, but does that mean you need to write it chronologically? No. It just needs to be written.

I generally don't do this as much for editing, but for writing, so long as you're making progress, it doesn't matter if it's in the right order. Can't think of how to structure Chapter 2, but you have a pretty good idea of how your story's going to end? Write the ending then. You'll have to go back and write Chapter 2 eventually, but if you're feeling more motivated to write a completely different part of the book, who's to say you can't do that?

When I'm working on a project, I start off with a single document that I title "Scrap for (Project Title)" and then just write whatever comes to mind, in whatever order. Once I've gotten enough to work with, then I start outlining my plot and predicting how many chapters I'm going to need. Then, I create separate google docs for each individual chapter and work on them in whatever order I feel like, often leaving several partially complete as I jump from one to the other. Then, as each one gets finished, I copy and paste the chapter into the full manuscript document. This means that the official "draft" could have Chapters 1 and 9, but completely be missing Chapters 2-8, and that's fine. It's not like anyone will ever know once I finish it.

Sorry for the absurdly long post. Hopes this helps someone. Maybe I'll share more tricks in the future.

#writing #creative writing #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #writing tips #writing advice #writers block #novel writing #fiction writing #writer #writers of tumblr

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Pretty Boy | s.r. x fem!reader

a/n: you know i had to do something for glasses reid i’d be crazy not to.

“oh, here comes your pretty boy. capital p and b.” derek’s smooth voice entered your shared office with jj. you didn’t bother asking who, even coyly, he would just say something along the line of “your other half, pretty girl.”

so you rolled your eyes while scanning over a case file, not bothering to direct attention to the man. “and why the need to visit my space?” a teasing reply, both knowing his visits to the double liaison office were once in a blue moon.

there was the sound of shuffling before derek responded, “cause i wanna see your reaction.” such a vague answer that it caused you to pick your head up with a quizzical look, “what are-“ and you stopped when spencer poked his head through the cracked doorway.

“hey y/n, i brought you…” you didn’t hear the rest of his sentence. eyes too focused on spencer’s face and the new wardrobe attire perched along his nose.

your heart beat fast in your ears and you could feel your body warm in temperature. it was like you were sent back in time to high school and spencer was the insanely smart, pretty student ripped right from your fantasies. you hoped you weren’t drooling at the sight.

“y/n? you alright?” spencer’s voice was much closer now and when you blinked he was directly in front of you with the back of his hand to your forehead and a frown on his face. derek’s chuckles filled the crowded space and you couldn’t even manage a side eye.

“you feel warm. you didn’t happen to catch anything from the last case, did you?” full concern with round puppy eyes shining behind black frames. your heart was the picture of a popsicle melting on a hot summer day.

you took a swallow, “not- not that i know of.” eyes honed onto a freckle placed to the left of spencer’s chin.

derek laughed again, “ease up on her, pretty boy.” he moved closer and stood behind spencer’s left shoulder, a smug expression painted on his chiseled face.

“i’m just checking if she’s physically well.” spencer’s voice got high from defending himself and his actions while glaring at derek.

derek then jerked his chin at your sheepish expression, “well it’s declining each second you’re in her space.” joking at the expense of your crush, but spencer took it the wrong way and pulled his arm back to his side. “sorry, right boundaries. should’ve asked first.”

you managed to bounce back when he started moving away, “no! no, it’s- derek’s just joking. i- i don’t mind you touching me.” and it took two, two seconds, for your mind to process your wording.

“oh this is a great morning.” derek howled then decided he’s seen enough, leaving both of you hot and pink cheeked.

squeezing your eyes shut you wished for the floor to swallow you hole and drag you away from this situation. “i’m- i’m sorry… about that. bit- bit scattered brained right now.” trying to play everything off.

“you- you sure you’re alright? i’m certain hotch will let you leave early.” spencer’s brows pinched in the middle turning his face into more of a pout. oh he has no idea the effect on you.

you smiled gentle at his worry, “i’m well, just been staring at potential cases too long, that’s all.” fingering at the edge of the manilla folder in your lap.

“also i like the new look,” circling a finger around your eyes to play charades with him than just mention the holy glasses. “they suit you nicely.” friendly but said with a hint of flirty.

spencer’s smiled widened and his cheeks turned from bubblegum pink to a rosie hue, oh how you wish to just cover him in thousands of kisses. “thanks. i ran out of contacts for the month so i’m stuck with these until then.” making it sound like an inconvenience, but oh how you were gonna suffering for a month of those handsome frames.

you turned your head away before you were caught staring for too long and saw a baby pink bag sitting beside your picture frames. you reached out to grab it then pulled it apart to see a sweet morning treat awaiting for your teeth to sink in. “did you bring this?” asking spencer since you then remember that he said something when arriving but you didn’t hear what.

spencer straightened up and happily beamed, “yeah! i was walking past that pastry shop you like and thought you’d enjoy something for all your hard work.” you both knew that was a straight lie since that pastry shop is an extra ten minutes out of either of yours work routes.

but you didn’t comment on it just looked spencer in the eye and said softly, “thank you, spence. you’re very sweet.” and with a sudden boldness you leaned forward to press a delicate kiss onto his right cheek.

pulling back you noticed spencer’s lips were slightly parted, he looked almost winded from the sudden action. you were gonna apologize if you over stepped but then jj entered her office with derek trailing behind.

“uh… hi.” she stopped two steps inside then saw the way you both fidgeted to appear normal. as if you were doing something you weren’t supposed… “hi, welcome.” “everything normal here.” you and spencer talked over each other.

“okay, not even gonna ask…” waving a folder about, “but i found a case and hotch approved so into the conference room for debriefing.” jj gave both of you a final stare then walked around derek to flee the scene.

“come on pretties, you can smooch later.” “derek!”

#erin writes #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x gn reader #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[obsessivevoidkitten]

In The Minotaur's Maze

Male Minotaur Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Violently painful noncon, mild bleeding from sex, size difference, belly bulge from massively huge dick, mild mention of musk, stalking, kidnapping, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 980 (Tried to make a drabble, failed again with a mini-fic instead. Oops. This is one of my very few works, so far, that is technically fanfiction as Asterion is the canon name of the Minotaur in Greek mythology.)

You were a talented explorer seeking ancient relics for fame and fortune.

You used a combination of minor magic to speak to the dead and serious investigation to discern the location of the fabled Minotaur labyrinth.

It was deep within an enchanted cave system that in many ways served as an extension of the maze hidden away within.

You carefully navigated the treacherous caves until you came upon the secret entrance. You placed your hand in the middle of a smooth wall and uttered the magic incantation.

The wall dissolved in a flash of light, and you stepped through the entrance as the stone reformed behind you. This was it. You were in the maze proper. What secrets lie ahead?

Of course, you knew the legends of Asterion the Minotaur, but he had been slain in them. And nothing could live so long anyway, especially without food.

You navigated the stone corridors easily. Despite their age, they still looked brand new. As you continued on, you occasionally heard what sounded like hooves plodding along behind you.

You pushed it from your mind. Your imagination was playing tricks.

As you stepped around a corner, you came to a wooden door and opened it. When you stepped through, gone were the twisting stone paths filled with the scent of earth.

Instead, there was an ancient style dwelling overlooking some farmland growing a variety of trees, bushes, and vines.

The door you had come through was still behind you, you closed it and from this side it looked like a door to a shed. So the labyrinth had pocket dimensions… You had heard about them in passing. You wondered how large it was. The realm may look like an idyllic farm on earth, but if you went far enough away, you'd surely hit an invisible wall.

Perhaps the door to the house would lead further into the dungeon.

As you got closer, you realized how large it was. When you pushed the big door open, it actually was a house. Albeit with furniture that was made for someone very large.

Suddenly, you felt a hot breath at your neck. You turned to find the very large, naked Minotaur staring down at you. He was a hairy wall of muscle. One with the head of a bull, complete with metal tipped horns. His legs were covered in dark fur and ended in large hooves, and his full nutsack dangled beneath a frighteningly large prick.

Before you could react, the Minotaur grabbed you and pulled off all your clothing.

You had no idea how Asterion could have survived all this time. He had been killed!

But apparently, he hadn't gotten the memo.

In the past, he had consumed most humans that wandered into his labyrinthine prison, but you were bravely entering his home, his nest.

You weren't cowering like the old sacrifices. Well, you weren't before he grabbed you anyway.

That, combined with him being in rut and driven insane by thousands of years of isolation, made him not consider you as a meal for even a moment. You were firmly in the mate category in his brain.

So small and cute.

You writhed and fought to get out of his grasp but he ignored your greatest efforts as if they were nothing.

Asterion licked at your face as you pleaded with him to let you go.

He couldn't understand your language but he could guess at their meaning.

But he had no intention of ever letting this new mate of his go.

He tossed you down on the bed and you now saw what he intended to do.

His hard cock now at full arousal, as large and thick as a man's arm.

"No no no! Pleasepleasenono!!!" Your words blended together in a garbled panic as his musk hit your nose, sharp and dominating.

The only preparation your entrance received was a few gobs of slimy Minotaur saliva before he slammed inside you.

You shrieked.

It felt as though your entrance was on fire. As if it was being ripped apart.

With every thrust you shuddered in pain and sobbed. Nearly incoherent cries for mercy dribbled from your lips and fell on deaf ears.

You felt so warm and tight around him. This was just what he needed. Surely you had been sent to Asterion in his time of need by the gods. They finally, after eons, granted him mercy in the form of your insides.

So pliant to his girthy cock. Every time he dove back into you the outline could be seen in your stomach.

Tears streamed down your face as you silently wept, no longer able to scream or even babble your silly little pleas for it to stop.

Asterion wished he could tell you how well you were doing. That you were such a good cow for him. That you fit his cock so perfectly.

But he couldn't, so instead settled for licking and nibbling at your neck before wiping your tears away with his broad tongue.

With a final thrust he filled your belly visibly cum.

When he pulled out a torrent of his seed rushed down your thighs, it had noticeable streaks of pink from bleeding. You were such a fragile little thing compared to him.

He hadn't been able to hold back since that was the first time he had ever sought release inside of someone before, but he made note to be more careful.

Even though the breeding had stopped you were helpless. Broken. At least for the moment. You still cried silently, feeling utterly invaded and defiled.

Asterion took the time to lick you completely clean before laying down beside you and holding you close, spooning you with his mighty arm as you shook beneath it.

You came here to explore the deepest reaches of the maze... but had your deepest reaches explored instead...

#yandere teratophilia #yandere terato #monster boyfriend #yandere x reader #gender neutral reader #yandere monster #male yandere x gn reader #Yandere Minotaur #Minotaur x Reader #Yandere Greek Mythology #Yandere Asterion the Minotaur #Asterion the Minotaur x Reader #yandere fanfiction