Latest Posts by star-spacer - Page 5

This is me. Kinda jealous of all the writers who can write quickly because I can't.

Aizawa shouta in My Hero Ultra Impact.

Present mic bonuses because I loved his.

Im really enjoying the scanlation of "the summer hikaru died" specifically cause thats a mother fucker who gets an american southern dialect. To often translaters remove dialect instead of adapting em.

"maybe it aint never was so black an white" <- horribly improper grammer. Exactly how my whole family speaks.

Lord of the Monsters

@bleedmanbruh

Learning to be a hero

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

Happy Birthday Aizawa Shota 🐈‍⬛❤️‍🩹 - November 8th || My Hero Academia

Japes and Jubilation, Pt 1

The Sanctity of Sacred Spaces Masterlist

The various antics of the crews and the various ways you’re involved in it.

Part 1: Eyebrows

Hakugan comes with a little request

Rapid-fire knocking—no, pounding at your door made you scowl and throw down the pair of pants in your hands. What was the point of telling the crew to knock so they wouldn’t disturb your work if they’d go ahead and slam on your door like the world was ending?

Yanking the door open, you greeted the perpetrator with a curt, “What?”

Hakugan swayed on his feet, as if he didn’t almost bring your door down. Uncaring of your irritation, he leaned closer to you. “Are you free? Can I come in?”

You raised an eyebrow but stepped aside. “What do you need, Hakugan?”

“Do you have any of that sticky fabric thing?”

“What?”

Hakugan brought his hand together and pulled them apart, mimicking some sort of ripping, peeling sound.

“... Do you mean velcro?”

“Yes! Do you have any more of that.”

“I do, why?”

He leaned closer to you, excitement in his body language. “I have an idea.”

Seeing the man nearly vibrating in unrestrained glee, you held your composure for a few seconds before ultimately caving. “Alright, I’ll bite. What is it?”

Hakugan let out a little cheer, leaning closer as he rapid-fired off his idea to you. A slow smile cracked over your face as you envisioned the visual laid out. “Okay. I’ll do it. Do you have a spare?”

Hakugan whipped out a mask from the recesses of his boiler suits, and you twitched at the fact he already prepared for your involvement with it. You shook your head, disappointed with yourself that you were using such precious materials on something so silly. The only saving grace (and reason that you were doing it in the first place) was that there were some scraps left over from when you made the attachable pockets for the boiler suits.

As you laid out everything on your work table and turned your light on, you could feel the helmsman hovering behind you, peering over your shoulders. You got through the first half of your task, used to the man’s antics. It wasn’t a bother until your elbow began knocking into Hakugan. You stopped your work and looked back at him, and he tilted his face up to you, cocking his head silently.

Before you could regret it, you gingerly offered him your sewing needle. “Do you want to try?”

Hakugan perked up, and you could almost imagine an imaginary tail wagging behind him. “Are you sure?”

“Yos. I’ll walk you through it.”

He was a surprisingly good student, attentive and focused despite what his general demeanor might’ve shown him to be. There were a few learning curves and adjustments where you had to help him hold and position the fabric, but soon he was merrily finishing it up on his own.

Hakugan held up the mask, letting out a victorious cheer. “Alright! Thank you so much!”

You let out an affirmative ‘yos’ . “Don’t think much about it.”

The two of you remained holed up in your workshop until it was time to switch off the navigation teams, heading there together with the others who would be navigating the Tang through this turbulent part of the waters.

Morsa pulled the door open for the lot of you, and Tanaka sighed at seeing the relief shift coming to take over. “Glad you guys are here!”

“Hm,” Hakugan said as he left your side, and walked up next to the taller topographer, falling back into his role as helmsman easily. Nobody noticed that anything was amiss as he made sure that his mask was obscured for the most part. “What’s the update?”

“Well, it seems like we’ve moved out of the enclosed space so far,” Tanaka said. “We—”

His words cut off in a choke as he glanced at Hakugan.

“Hm, what was that, Tanaka?” Ikkaku asked as she squinted at the sonar system.

“Guys!” The bespectacled man grabbed Hakugan by the shoulders and spun him around to face everyone.

The navigation room fell silent as they saw Hakugan’s mask. The man tilted his head innocently, hands coming up to the mask. “What?”

Loud ripping noises echoed in the room as he peeled off the thick, dark eyebrows and slapped them on to make a confused frown. 

“Hakugan,” Ikkaku began. “What the fuck.”

Said helmsman shot a thumbs up to the crew.

Japes and Jubilation, Pt 1

The Sanctity of Sacred Spaces Masterlist

The various antics of the crews and the various ways you’re involved in it.

YOU ARE HERE | (Part 2) | (Part 3) | (Part 4)

Part 1: Eyebrows

Hakugan comes with a little request

Rapid-fire knocking—no, pounding at your door made you scowl and throw down the pair of pants in your hands. What was the point of telling the crew to knock so they wouldn’t disturb your work if they’d go ahead and slam on your door like the world was ending?

Yanking the door open, you greeted the perpetrator with a curt, “What?”

Hakugan swayed on his feet, as if he didn’t almost bring your door down. Uncaring of your irritation, he leaned closer to you. “Are you free? Can I come in?”

You raised an eyebrow but stepped aside. “What do you need, Hakugan?”

“Do you have any of that sticky fabric thing?”

“What?”

Hakugan brought his hand together and pulled them apart, mimicking some sort of ripping, peeling sound.

“... Do you mean velcro?”

“Yes! Do you have any more of that.”

“I do, why?”

He leaned closer to you, excitement in his body language. “I have an idea.”

Seeing the man nearly vibrating in unrestrained glee, you held your composure for a few seconds before ultimately caving. “Alright, I’ll bite. What is it?”

Hakugan let out a little cheer, leaning closer as he rapid-fired off his idea to you. A slow smile cracked over your face as you envisioned the visual laid out. “Okay. I’ll do it. Do you have a spare?”

Hakugan whipped out a mask from the recesses of his boiler suits, and you twitched at the fact he already prepared for your involvement with it. You shook your head, disappointed with yourself that you were using such precious materials on something so silly. The only saving grace (and reason that you were doing it in the first place) was that there were some scraps left over from when you made the attachable pockets for the boiler suits.

As you laid out everything on your work table and turned your light on, you could feel the helmsman hovering behind you, peering over your shoulders. You got through the first half of your task, used to the man’s antics. It wasn’t a bother until your elbow began knocking into Hakugan. You stopped your work and looked back at him, and he tilted his face up to you, cocking his head silently.

Before you could regret it, you gingerly offered him your sewing needle. “Do you want to try?”

Hakugan perked up, and you could almost imagine an imaginary tail wagging behind him. “Are you sure?”

“Yos. I’ll walk you through it.”

He was a surprisingly good student, attentive and focused despite what his general demeanor might’ve shown him to be. There were a few learning curves and adjustments where you had to help him hold and position the fabric, but soon he was merrily finishing it up on his own.

Hakugan held up the mask, letting out a victorious cheer. “Alright! Thank you so much!”

You let out an affirmative ‘yos’ . “Don’t think much about it.”

The two of you remained holed up in your workshop until it was time to switch off the navigation teams, heading there together with the others who would be navigating the Tang through this turbulent part of the waters.

Morsa pulled the door open for the lot of you, and Tanaka sighed at seeing the relief shift coming to take over. “Glad you guys are here!”

“Hm,” Hakugan said as he left your side, and walked up next to the taller topographer, falling back into his role as helmsman easily. Nobody noticed that anything was amiss as he made sure that his mask was obscured for the most part. “What’s the update?”

“Well, it seems like we’ve moved out of the enclosed space so far,” Tanaka said. “We—”

His words cut off in a choke as he glanced at Hakugan.

“Hm, what was that, Tanaka?” Ikkaku asked as she squinted at the sonar system.

“Guys!” The bespectacled man grabbed Hakugan by the shoulders and spun him around to face everyone.

The navigation room fell silent as they saw Hakugan’s mask. The man tilted his head innocently, hands coming up to the mask. “What?”

Loud ripping noises echoed in the room as he peeled off the thick, dark eyebrows and slapped them on to make a confused frown. 

“Hakugan,” Ikkaku began. “What the fuck.”

Said helmsman shot a thumbs up to the crew.

Ah if i could find fitting pics for the header easier it’d make posting fics go a lot faster

Ahem katsuki taking care of you when your sick? 🫣

I’m so sick lately I need something to devour rn to survive (you don’t have to tho dw bb)

DUMBASS FLU PATROL

A/N: i’m SO SO SO SORRY this and all the other requests are taking so long but i’ve been running out of ideas and school took a lot of time from me. This prompt was just so fun to write ‘cause I can perfect picture bakugo taking care of reader..in his own way..I’ve been sick to after hanging out for halloween night, we all need a bakugo to take care of us🦇

It starts with Bakugo noticing something off about you during class.

He wouldn’t say anything right away, but he’s sharp enough to pick up on small changes. You’re quieter than usual, your eyes look a little glazed, and you keep rubbing your temples.

At first, he thinks you’re just tired from all the late-night study sessions you two have been pulling together, but when you keep sniffling and coughing under your breath, he starts to get annoyed.

Not at you—no, he’s irritated because you’re clearly sick and trying to tough it out, which to him is just stupid.

As class goes on, he watches you like a hawk out of the corner of his eye.

You’re shivering slightly, even though the room isn’t cold. Finally, during a brief break, he leans over, his usual scowl firmly in place as he mutters,

“Oi, what the hell’s wrong with you? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

You give him a tired smile, trying to brush it off. “I’m fine, Bakugo. Just a little under the weather.”

“Bullshit,” he snaps, barely lowering his voice. A couple of classmates look over, but Bakugo doesn’t care.

“You’re sick, dumbass. Why didn’t you stay in bed?”

You shrug, trying to play it off like it’s no big deal. “Didn’t want to fall behind.”

Bakugo grits his teeth, muttering curses under his breath.

The fact that you’d drag yourself to class, even when you’re clearly unwell, pisses him off more than he’d like to admit.

Part of him is frustrated that you’re so stubborn, but another part—the part he doesn’t like to acknowledge—feels a strange pang of concern.

After class, he’s practically glued to your side, his eyes narrowed and jaw clenched as he escorts you out of the room. You insist you’re fine, that you just need some rest, but Bakugo’s having none of it.

“Shut up,” he growls when you try to brush him off. “You’re goin’ back to your room, and you’re not leavin’ until you’re better. Got it?”

You try to argue, but Bakugo’s glare is unyielding. His hand finds the small of your back, firm but surprisingly gentle as he steers you down the hall. He’s not usually one for soft gestures, but something about seeing you weak and vulnerable sets off an instinct he can’t ignore.

Once he gets you to your dorm room, he practically shoves you inside, crossing his arms as he stands in the doorway, blocking any chance of escape.

“Get in bed,” he orders, his voice rough but laced with an unmistakable note of concern.

You sigh, knowing better than to argue with him at this point.

You climb into bed, pulling the covers over yourself as he watches, his eyes sharp and critical, like he’s assessing just how sick you are.

After a moment, he grumbles, “You got medicine in here?”

You nod weakly, gesturing toward your desk where you have a small stash of over-the-counter meds.

Bakugo grabs them, inspecting each bottle with a furrowed brow, clearly reading the labels with more intensity than necessary.

He pours out the recommended dosage and hands it to you along with a glass of water, his expression a mixture of irritation and reluctant care.

“Take it” he says, watching closely as you down the pills. You can’t help but chuckle softly at his intensity, which only makes him scowl harder.

“Quit laughing, idiot. You’re the one who’s sick,” he mutters, almost to himself.

Bakugo doesn’t leave after that.

Instead, he grabs a chair from your desk, dragging it over to sit beside your bed, his arms crossed as he watches you. You raise an eyebrow, surprised by his persistence.

“You don’t have to stay, you know,” you murmur, your voice a little hoarse.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Like I’m gonna leave you here to get worse just ‘cause you’re stubborn as hell. Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t do somethin’ stupid.”

There’s a warmth in his tone, buried under layers of gruffness, but it’s there.

The corners of his mouth twitch, almost like he’s considering a smile, but he quickly forces his expression back into a scowl.

You settle under the blankets, feeling a strange sense of comfort in his presence.

For the next few hours, Bakugo stays put, occasionally checking your temperature with the back of his hand (grumbling something about “damn germs” every time he does it) and making sure you’re drinking enough water. At one point, he disappears for a few minutes and comes back with a bowl of soup he somehow got from the cafeteria.

It’s barely warm by the time he returns, but the gesture makes your chest feel warm.

“Eat” he commands, holding the bowl out to you.

You take it, giving him a grateful smile. “Thanks, Bakugo.”

He looks away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, whatever. Just don’t get used to it.”

As the day goes on, you start to drift in and out of sleep, your fever making you drowsy. Each time you wake, Bakugo is still there, watching over you with a mixture of irritation and quiet worry. At one point, you feel his hand gently brush your forehead, checking for any sign of improvement.

The touch is warm—maybe a bit too warm, given his quirk—and you find it oddly soothing.

Just as you’re dozing off again, you hear him mutter under his breath, “Stupid… makin’ me worry like this…”

It’s barely audible, but it makes your heart flutter.

You feel yourself drifting back into sleep, a faint smile on your lips as you listen to him grumble, his voice softening in a way you rarely hear.

When you wake up again, it’s late, the room bathed in the dim glow of your bedside lamp. Bakugo’s still there, now slouched in the chair, looking half-asleep himself. He’s fighting to stay awake, his arms crossed, head nodding forward slightly.

You feel a pang of guilt, realizing he’s been with you all day. “You should go rest..” you whisper, not wanting him to feel obligated to stay.

He snaps awake, scowling. “I’m fine. You’re the one who looks like crap.”

You can’t help but smile, too tired to argue with him. Instead, you simply reach out, your fingers brushing his arm. He stiffens for a moment, surprised by the contact, but he doesn’t pull away.

“Thank you… really,” you murmur, your voice soft.

He looks at you, and for a second, his expression softens, his usual harshness fading just slightly. He lets out a small sigh, leaning forward to gently press his hand against your forehead again, feeling your temperature one last time.

“Tch. You’re still warm,” he mutters, but there’s a tenderness in his tone that he can’t quite hide. Not with you.

You close your eyes, feeling yourself drift back into sleep, his presence comforting and grounding.

Just before you drift off completely, you feel his hand linger on your forehead, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. It’s such a small, unexpected gesture, but it speaks volumes—his way of showing he cares without saying a word.

As you fall asleep, you can just barely hear him mumbling under his breath, his tone low and almost affectionate.

“You better get better soon, idiot. Can’t have you fallin’ apart on me.”

The Nomad & The Doctor (2024)

the best fanfic is the one the author had fun writing actually.

Studio Ghibli + Scenery

↳ @pscentral event 27: Scenery

actual footage of my brain rn

give me one good movie kiss

☆ based on some personal feelings/experiences and Mitski’s Nobody ☆

You’re thirteen when you’re first introduced to the idea of being alone. You watch as love notes are slipped into lockers, as shy, awkward confessions are shared between classes. You watch as your friends twirl their hair and blush, swapping stories about crushes and young love. You watch, you watch, you watch. A deep pit begins to form in your stomach. It’s stupid and it’s dramatic, but you’re thirteen, and everything is awful when you’re thirteen.

You’re sixteen when you start to feel like something’s wrong with you. The feeling hasn’t dissipated, instead, it’s only grown, transformed into a massive black hole, swirling in the galaxy of your mind. You watch as your friends get asked on dates, get asked to dances and prom. You watch as your friends get asked. You get your license, you spend time with friends, but you long for more. You long for that perfect movie moment — sneaking out, laughing as the moon hangs high in the sky, feeling loved in a way you think all teenagers understand. You’re sixteen, and you start to wonder why you feel so left behind.

Keep reading

Wasted Summers— Laios Touden

Mermaid Au. Modern AU. this fic involves drowning.

i. fish out of water

Laios has to take a bike to the market. His house was far from the rest of the village so it was up to him for tonight's dinner. His dad wasn’t home yet while his mom was busy with housework. That leaves the responsibility to him, the eldest Touden son.

On the way, he saw someone or some animal flopping around the asphalt. Laios pulls on the brakes before he can make roadkill then his eyes widen. Despite its bare upper torso which would attract most few, the boy’s eyes land on the half-fish lower end of its body. Mermaids, beings once marveled as legends but had become a local attraction.

Despite its human half, mermaids are labelled as unintelligent creatures by most of scientific society. They lack means of communication, they have the intelligence of a five-year-old and have yet to show other uses than eye candy. Some exotic dealers trade them too. Perhaps as a meal or something far worse in the black market.

Laios picks up a stick and whips it in front of the mermaid, “Get out! Get back to the sea! Shoo!” And like other animals, it tries to get away from him. But it doesn’t return to the sea. Instead, the mermaid waddles itself up the road to the direction of the shrine on top of a mountain, much to Laios’ disappointment.

“I said go back!” Laios stomps in front to scare it off, yet the mermaid persists. The noise it makes as it tries to waddle is a bit cute. He notices that with each noise Laios makes it grumbles, like a reply. It’s similar to a barking dog but looking at it struggle makes it sad. Its human half makes it difficult for him to be scary.

“That’s not the sea” The blonde makes an X with his arms” That’s the shrine. Not your home, a Shrine.”

And from a single word, the mermaid looks at him excitedly, then points to the top. It takes Laios aback from its reaction. Does it understand?

Laios wets his lips, “Are you heading to the Shrine?”

The mermaid nods enthusiastically, making him excited. A mermaid understands his language. A mermaid understands his language.

They can communicate! So it was possible to talk to them. He had read so much about marine animals and his sister took an interest in mermaids before. There were activist groups promoting mermaids' rights, fighting for their independence, and protesting against hunting. He’s seen those people outside of supermarket stores handing out pamphlets for mermaid awareness.

“We should get you— oh right,” he scoops the mermaid up into his arms to clear themselves from any incoming traffic as he heads to the beach. “Let’s talk about it somewhere else.”

Laios abandons his grocery duties as he spends the rest of his day with the mermaid.

ii. a notebook and a handkerchief.

For the past few days, Laios has been by the beach to talk with his mermaid. It made him feel special that some amazing creature like that was friendly towards him. Sure there were reports about mermaids drowning people, but he was careful. These conversations—er uhm— data were discovered on the shoreline. Laios noted that the mermaid had a good memory. And if he wasn’t feeding it with half of his lunch. The mermaid still points towards the shrine.

“Do you have anyone you know?” Laios asks, but the mermaid tilts its head.

“Person? Shrine?” Laios Points to himself and then to the building. Still, the mermaid doesn’t have a new reaction.

“Shrine?” he points to the building, and the mermaid nods once more.

“go?”Laios dropped to the pebbled ground and imitated the waddling mermaid from yesterday.

He sits up and then points to it to, “You?”

Its eyes widen as if it understands then waddles away to swim back into the sea. Maybe it went back home. They don’t have the concept of saying goodbye, after all, he thinks.

Laios waited for a good minute or so before deciding to call it a day. However, as he was about to depart, he heard stones being turned at the shoreline. He looks back and is happy to see his mermaid but with a handkerchief in hand.

“La-os! La-os!” it waves the fabric around proudly.

iii. mermaids are not meant on land.

The following day, Laios takes his father’s wheelbarrow with him and a bucket. He filled it up, bucket by bucket with seawater as he intended to take the mermaid through it. But of course, his mermaid was a curious one. Laios didn’t have to persuade it to come closer and had accepted to be whisked once more in his arms. It sits there snuggly, lucky for him it didn’t thrash around.

It simply points up to its awaited place, “Sha-rine?”

“Yes, Shrine,” Laios lifts the wheelbarrow and rolls upwards to the mountain. It was a cloudy day perfect for a walk and they took breaks here and there. He made sure it stays moist by taking the water from the wheelbarrow and pouring it over its head. When it started to splash around to play, Laios had to scold it to stop. And he noticed that in this journey, the mermaid likes to be held. It kept on pulling his hand over its head for head pats. Laios wanted to indulge in it too, it’s a bonding activity that heightens trust, but maybe for another day.

After an exhausting attempt, Laios has succeeded in bringing it up to the shrine. It splashes around clearly excited to break free.

“Wait, hold on, let me- argh!” The wheelbarrow leans to the side, making the mermaid fall. He urgently went by its side to check for any injuries, and luckily there was none. Laios presses both his palms into her, “Stay. Here.” But as soon as he tries to leave, it waddles again.

“La-os!” it wiggles around. It was displeased with the new terrain. “La-os. mhmm, Sha-rine. Kership.”

Laios tried his best to keep it calm but it was too exciting.

“Who is there?” A voice asks. The loud noise alerted the groundskeeper and he stared at both Laios and the mermaid. The blond noticed the way the groundskeeper gripped his broom upon seeing the mermaid.

In an instant, he shields it, “Wait, don’t be alarmed!”

“Kid, get out of the way,” the groundskeeper raised his weapon, ready to strike. “You have a dangerous animal behind you!”

He doesn’t budge, “Please Listen, it’s harmless!” Laios tries his best to seem friendly. It was a common understanding that churches deemed mermaids as devils luring sailors to death. But that was a stereotype made in bad faith against women.

“Harmless?” The groundskeeper was disgusted at the notion. “That animal attacked me! Don’t be fooled boy. they might appear kind, but they’re just lowering your guard waiting to attack.”

“But it made it all this way to give something,” Laios grabs the broom the throws it to the side. “I know that they’re just no better than animals, but this one is smart. It wants to return something.”

“Get out!” the groundskeeper pushed Laios making him land on his butt. The mermaid rushes to Laios side seeing he was attacked. The mermaid hisses and curl its fingers as if to strike against the offender. But Laios pulled it back, its skin against his chest to make sure it didn’t retaliate.

In the end, he decided to leave the shrine and head back to the sea.

iv. humans are not meant for the sea.

Laios sits by the shoreline with his mermaid friend by his side. He was discouraged by how the groundskeeper reacted. Maybe it was because he was old, acting his mindset from his generation. Younger people like him were more understanding after all (more or less). Mermaids were not like the creatures most people played them out to be.

They were like sharks. Their identities were muddled by years of propaganda against them. Though mermaids were quite new, they still didn’t escape the lies and stereotypes held against them. Here he is, waiting as the golden sun sets before he heads home. Laios likes how the light bounces off its scales in an ethereal glow. Ever since earlier when he had given her head pats, it was now eager to receive more as it nuzzled his side if he stopped.

“you’re not like them are you?” Laios sighed, today was an unfulfilling day. “you’re not like the humans with their biassed judgement.”

The mermaid doesn’t understand, it simply nudges its head against his palm.

“I wish I wasn’t human,” he lets out this foolish idea. Laios had always wanted to be something else. Perhaps, his reasons for helping the mermaid weren’t as altruistic as he thinks. After a moment, the mermaid stops in its movements. “hmm? what’s wrong?”

“La-os!” it cups his cheeks in his palms making Laios fluster. He couldn’t speak, unsure of what to interpret its actions into human behaviors. But its interest changes and it's back down again playing with the bucket he brought. But Laios looks away feeling embarrassed.

All of a sudden, a blunt force hit the top of his head, his vision was blocked, and then he felt talon sharp fingers digging into his skin as something dragged him to the sea. His heart was racing, and by the time he had removed the bucket from his head, more than half of his body was in water.

Laios claws at the grounds of the shoreface. He kicked and thrashed to break free from whatever was grabbing him, but it was a gruelling fight. This creature was strong in the water. Land dwellers like him don’t belong here.

His body needs air. Water enters his lungs as Laios struggles to escape. And with one successful hit, he had managed to escape and limp far away from the shoreline, coughing out the seawater from his chest.

He looks around to search for his mermaid, making sure that it is out of harm's way. He didn’t want the creature that tried to drown him to hurt it too. But with his friend out of the foreshore, Laios gawks at the familiar sets of eyes on the water.

It can’t be, His mermaid couldn’t have drowned him, right?

“Laios?” it tilts its head, not understanding it did something wrong. “Bakit?”

“What? Bucket?” he searched for it on the ground, but it was nowhere to be found. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s too terrified to act after that attempt that almost kill him. Maybe the groundskeeper was right. Mermaids are animals waiting for the moment to attack.

Drenched, Laios takes the wheelbarrow home. He doesn’t return for a while.

v. things to find out

In his journal, he wrote: in the same way as I brought her to the shrine on the wheelbarrow, did it mimic by using the bucket to scoop some air for me to breath in? did it try to show me its home? did it understand when I said I wished I wasn’t human? could joining it make me like it?

AN: It’s mermay! yey my first piece for this prompt. This fic was inspired by Ryoko Kui’s work titled Ryuu No Kawaii Nanatsu No Ko. It’s the second chapter, mermaid sanctuary. It’s a good read if you like dungeon meshi. it makes you understand ryoko ryu’s story telling which enhances the DMeshi experience tbh.

Pros of re-reading your own fic

a good time;

Has exactly the tropes you like and the characterization you want to read;

Gratification: yes you did finish a thing and yes you did do good;

just a very fun time all around.

Cons of re-reading your own fic:

Is that another TYpO

your fanfiction is valid

Come Back to Bed with Me

Nicolas Brown x Reader X Worick Arcangelo

Sleeping with Nicolas and Worick is like sleeping between two ovens.

It was muggy again tonight.

In the corner of the room, the old electric fan wheezed away, blowing tepid air across the space and into your cramped, sweltering bed. Its buzzing accompanied the distant sound of nightlife filtering in from your open window and the sounds of the two souls sleeping on either side of you. Worick’s snores to your right almost covered the gentle rasping of Nicolas’s breaths, both of them completely out for the count despite the heat. But considering that both of them were responsible for the excess swelter pressing in on you, you weren’t surprised that they’d be immune to it.

Bastards. How dare they come into your bed, take up your space, and ramp up the temperature with their in-built, biological furnace system? It was your turn with the bed, so it was unfair that you couldn’t even get it to yourself tonight.

‘It was too loud!’ Worick had insisted.

Nicolas had simply hovered behind the blond, too sleepy to even attempt signing anything. A mistake on your end by looking at Worick’s puppy eyes ultimately led you to open the door wider and allow the two of them in.

Though, you guess it was your fault for allowing them to squeeze into bed with you in the first place. There was a perfectly good couch and plenty of floor space you could’ve gone to or made them sleep on if you really had minded. But you didn’t, the weight of their bodies beside you so deeply familiar that sometimes you struggled to fall asleep without them. Though sometimes the heat that you so coveted on colder days turned against you.

You laid still for a few moments, calculating how you’d escape without either Nicolas waking up or Worick latching onto you. After a moment of consideration, you slowly sat up, wiggling to the foot of the bed before slipping off there. The blonde mumbled something and rolled over, arms latching on the pillow you placed there as a victim as you vacated. Sighing in relief, you gave them one last look before tiptoeing out of the room.

It was cooler in the kitchen, but not by much as you fanned yourself with the collar of your oversized shirt (okay, Worick’s shirt, but he couldn’t fit in it anyway). Droplets of water splashed over the rim of your cup as you filled it, soon abandoning the whole thing as it took too long and sticking your hands under it. Cool water filled up your cupped palms, and you ducked down to sip from them before splashing the rest over your face and washing the sweat off.

Cooled down to a satisfying degree, you switched the water off but remained drowsily hunched over the sink, yawning occasionally. Water dripped down your features, but you were too tired to wipe it away. The thought of going back didn’t appeal to you, shuddering at the idea of sweaty skin and sticky sheets.

Your head dipped, eyes slipping closed as you began to doze off right where you stood. The slight sounds of footsteps approached, but you didn’t bother moving, knowing exactly who it was by the sound.

Fingers pinched the side of your cheeks, and you let out a groan as they tugged. “Hey, weirdo.”

“Mmmgrrghh.”

Worick chuckled affectionately, letting go of your face as your hand came up to swat at him. “What’re you doing out here?”

“Was thirsty,” you said. “‘N hot.”

His singular sleep-filled eye scanned your features, seeing how the collar of your shirt and skin was dotted with water. “Looks like you got more water on yourself than anything.”

“Was hot.”

He shook his head in exasperation. “C’mon, it’s late. Let’s go back to bed.”

“Don’ wanna.”

“I’ll open the window.”

“‘S already opened. And the fan’s on.”

You didn’t reply as your eye caught movements from behind Worick, leaning to the side to spy Nicolas stumbling into the room. “Oh, Nicky’s awake.

He signed something, movements sloppy and dragging as you tried to see what he was saying, but couldn’t due to the darkness.

Waving to catch his attention, you said and signed, “Sorry, I can’t really see what you’re saying. It’s dark.”

Nicolas let out a few unintelligible grumbles, a warm hand coming up to grab your wrist and tug you with him. Worick’s arm settled over your shoulders, his weight comforting as he leaned drowsily into you.

“Guys…” you whined, hand hitting Nicolas’s arm while following them back into the bedroom. “It’s too hot in there.”

“We can sleep on the floor,” the blonde suggested, slightly kicking at Nicolas’s calf to get his attention. His arm did leave your shoulders, but hooked around and tugged you closer for him to sign and speak, “It’s cooler down there since our whiny baby can’t handle this heat.”

“Fuck you,” you replied without any heat. “You two are a pair of furnaces.”

Nicolas stopped and let go of your wrist to sign, “Want us to leave?”

“No,” you quickly said. “Let’s just sleep on the floor. I wanna do that.”

Worick nodded. “Alright. And, you, don’t suggest something for somebody else!”

Nicolas blinked slowly, catlike as he moved forward and opened the bedroom door. You went ahead and tugged the blanket off the bed, Nicolas tossing the pillows down, while Worick unplugged the little fan on the table to relocate it on the floor where its wind could reach you. With the three of you working together, a comfortable area was quickly established, and you plopped down in the middle, settling into your spot with a satisfied sigh. Nicolas nudged you over, settling to your right as he set his katana down at the edge of the sleeping spot. Worick flopped down onto your other side, yawning loudly as he scratched the scruff on his chin. Before you could move, he rolled over to throw an arm over you, fingers latching onto Nicolas’s shirt.

“You’re heavy as hell,” you muttered, hand coming up to tug at strands of his hair. You turned to Nicolas to make sure he saw your lips as you asked them. “What were you guys doing up, anyways?”

“You weren’t in bed,” Worick replied simply.

Nicolas’s eyes glinted as they caught the moonlight, the Twilight blinking slowly in a catlike manner. 

You huffed and smiled, wiggling in your spot to find a more comfortable position. Your hand on his side sought out his and you curled your pinky over his. “I see. Sorry, I woke you guys up. I’ll make sure not to be gone for too long next time.”

Worick huffed. “You better.”

On the floor it was slightly cooler, but still not by much. But you didn’t complain as you felt their warmth press in on either side of you. Though none of you said it, it was always this way, the three of you so used to each other’s presence at night that the absence of one was always felt. 

The room fell back into its quiet nighttime ambiance as you all settled, three puzzle pieces clicking into each other.

Marigold ☀️

Mina in fashionable outfits ayyeee

is the summer hikaru died fandom real

This is a shout out to small fandoms.

Yes, there is five of us. No, no one is getting hundreds of kudos or comments.

But we all have immaculate taste and we are vibing. We are sitting in a cosy living room, taking turns reading stories. There is a fireplace and tea and rocking chairs. This is our house and these are our stories, inspired by and created for one another, with utmost love and care. And that's more than enough.

i looooove seeing artists & writers proud of their work!!!!! i looooove captions & authors notes that say things like “i’m quite happy with this” “i love how this turned out” “i had so much fun making this”!!!!!! i loooooove when the act of creation is joyful & we take pride in what we make!!!!!!!!!!

Poorly drawn Legendary Beasts

dead boy cares