Me Rn With My 2 Ideas

what

you just said the same thing as I did?

the urge to read and ride a dragon

reblog if you believe fanfics are as valid as books that were published and sold by authors who write as their main careers. I'm trying to prove a point

Petition to get Ao3 to remove this category.

Write it shitty, write it scared, write it without a clue but don't you be so spineless and have an AI write fanfic for you.

Who is this DIVA?

I didn't realise this was poetry and thought someone posted this to relate to other people because I heavily relate to this with someone important to me.

This is beautiful- truly, I have no words- gorgeous.

#150

Disgustingly, I crave. Even when I know I should not, even when every instinct screams at me to leave, to get away, to run, to hide, I cannot. I am entranced and enraptured by the very thought of you, your presence something otherworldly and ethereal. No matter what I do, I cannot seem to break myself free of the trance you hold me in. I do not think I want to. It is far more peaceful here, in our own world, where all of my problems cease to exist.

Selfishly, I want you all to myself, and I never want to let you go. I want to hold you in my embrace forever and create a sanctuary only for the both of us, where nothing and no one will be significant enough to cause us harm, where we will live in our own little world free from all that plagues us.

The longer I spend in your presence, the more I am assured that this meeting, this getting to know each other is not mere coincidence, but rather fate’s doing. I do not know how I survived for so long without a presence such as yourself to light the way, to guide me, to be my solace and sanctuary when I most needed it.

masterlist

Habits That Reveal Deep Character

(A.K.A. the quiet stuff that says everything without screaming it)

❥ The “I Always Sit Facing the Exit” Quirk They don’t talk about their childhood much, but they always know where the exits are. Every restaurant. Every train. Trauma has muscle memory. Your job is to notice what it’s saying without needing a monologue about it.

❥ The “I Can’t Sleep Until I Hear You Lock the Door” Habit It's not controlling. It's care shaped like paranoia. They say “Goodnight” like it’s casual, but they’re counting the clicks of the lock like a lullaby. Let that show more than “I love you.”

❥ The “I Keep Everything You’ve Ever Given Me” Thing Not just gifts. Receipts with your doodles. The crumpled note you wrote when you were mad. Every bit of you that felt real. It’s borderline hoarder behavior, but also? It’s devotion.

❥ The “I Cook When I’m Sad” Pattern Their world’s falling apart, but suddenly everyone has banana bread. It’s not about food—it’s about control, about creating something warm when everything else is cold. And they won’t say it out loud, but they're asking, “Will you stay?”

❥ The “I Practice Conversations in the Mirror” Secret Before big moments, hard talks, or just answering the phone. They're rehearsing being okay. They're trying to be the version of themselves people expect. That’s not weakness—it’s survival wrapped in performance art.

❥ The “I Fix Other People’s Problems to Ignore My Own” Reflex Everyone calls them “strong,” but no one notices how fast they redirect. “How are you doing though?” they ask, one heartbeat after breaking down. Let your reader see how exhaustion wears a smile.

❥ The “I Never Miss A Birthday” Rule Even for people who forgot theirs. Even for exes. It’s not about being remembered—it’s about being someone who remembers. That’s character.

❥ The “I Clean When I Feel Powerless” Mechanism That sparkling sink? Not about hygiene. That’s grief control. That’s despair in a Clorox wipe. Let it speak volumes in the silence of a spotless room.

❥ The “I Pretend I Don’t Need Help” Lie They say, “I’m fine” like it’s a full stop. But their hands shake when they think no one’s looking. Let your other characters notice. Let someone care, even when they don’t ask for it.

❥ The “I Watch People When They’re Not Watching Me” Curiosity Not in a creepy way. In a poet’s way. In a “who are you when no one’s clapping” way. They love the in-between moments: laughter in elevators, fidgeting before speeches. That's who they are—observers, not performers.

TB* spoiler