My love for fictional men has well & truly blossomed into inspiration, so this little corner was born. I've toootally forgotten how fun it is to write. It's been a joy to experience again.
Activity in this space will vary. Please mind also that works will occasionally be 18+ only and marked accordingly.
Ask box is open - I'd love to have a blab with y'all!
§ Masterlist 𑑝 recent works below
↪ fake dating your local fruit seller 𑑝 lil fluffy drabble
↪ operation: defend your ice cream 𑑝 sylus being a gremlin
↪ in a fiend's shadow 𑑝 basking with your dragon; 1.5k wc
↪ the red-eyed stranger 𑑝 vampire hunter!sylus au; will you let him in? 600wc.
§ AO3
§ Misc
↪ @peascrabbles 𑑝 art and fic rbs
↪ pixel art tag -> #pea.doodles
BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you're supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you're beautiful inside and out 💚
how would you feel if someone illustrated one of your poems? I adore your sylusmc poem about the dragon//the sorcerer but honestly i am kinda intimidated and worried i won't live up to it 😭
WHAAAAT oh my god I'd be so honoured if you do!! Please, by all means go for it - and do nawwwt stress, all art is good art as long as you enjoy making it 💚 but regardless I'm indescribably happy you liked the poem and that it could even inspire you to create something too, that's honestly insane to me
fake dating your local fruit seller
sylus x gn!reader, fake relationship, pure fluff, sfw
"I can't believe you finally went for it!" Tara vibrates with excitement across the table, her eyes darting from you to him, unable to settle on either of you. A frigid smile is pasted on your face. "Thought I'd die from old age before it happened. You two look so good together. It was adorable how Skye waited outside for you every day, and everyone thought you totally should give him a chance, but you acted like it was the worst idea for some reason!"
She pauses, running out of oxygen to speak with, and you helplessly glance at Sylus from the corner of your eye. He doesn't acknowledge you. Instead, he settles further into the booth; slings an arm around your shoulder in an easy, practised movement, though he's never done it before.
You pinch his thigh under the table. To your chagrin, that garners no reaction either.
"I was prepared to wait my whole life if need be," he replies smoothly, "but I'm grateful that it happened sooner. We're very happy it's official. Isn't that right, sweetie?" Now he deigns to meet your eyes.
Those twin rubies of his betray the deep amusement you expected to see, but a hint of challenge swirls in them too. Curiosity, even. He wants to see how you'll handle this.
You can't read minds but you swear you can read his face saying: This is a predicament of your own design, by the way.
He wasn't wrong. Your Evol linkage had triggered at the most inopportune times. After the mortifying ordeal of the shower incident, you hastily pitched a plan to start a fake relationship with him, if only to use as a cover story for your friends and coworkers.
Yes, a fake partner to the de facto leader of the N109 zone, a man with a criminal record at least as long as your late night shopping spree receipts, and your employer's number one target.
No, you hadn't been sober. It took a few shotgunned glasses of exorbitantly expensive wine while he watched you, bemused, before you could utter the words.
He'd agreed without a second of hesitation.
All that aside—his challenge would not go unanswered. His opponent was a top-performing hunter after all; you fought tooth and nail to keep the number one spot in the rankings and it forged a fierce competitive spirit in you.
You relax, the tension in your expression melting into one resembling adoration.
"I guess I couldn't resist this humble fruit seller's charms in the end." You lean in to press a featherlight kiss to his cheek. As soon as your lips touch his skin, he twitches, eyes widening in surprise.
Your satisfaction with catching him off guard morphs into wicked delight when his cheeks and ears bloom a dusty, rosy pink.
Sylus is blushing.
Tara squeals. "Oh my gosh, look, Skye's turning red. He's so cute!"
You turn your head to whisper in his ear. "Too bad. Looks like I win this round."
Fruits Basket x LADs. You're living with five boys who transform into various animals whenever someone hugs them. Zayne waddles around as an emperor penguin. Caleb is a golden retriever with an incurable case of the zoomies. Rafayel turns into a large, unknown species of fish (you've installed a pond to throw him in when this happens.) Sylus stares unblinkingly on a sunny rock as a bearded dragon. Xavier is a tiny, fluffy bunny with a round poofy tail you love to rub. There's never an idle day in this household.
picking your brain for devil sylus things. (in the 1600s universe of course) but earlier today i was thinking about how would be a prideful, morally grey and chaotic neutral figure which plays into his whole shtick about only seeking entertainment in humanity picking itself apart. but where he typically goes to places to allow his presence to 'magically' influence the tensions, he doesn't intervene for conflicts at all. (especially when cannibal reader is fiending for a specific target)
but when it comes to her complaining about needing new clothes, this man is tossing up a few gold coins too easily for new threads just for her (even though they'll just get dirty again). he's truly, in my head, a silly little guy.
ABSOLUTELY,, nothing that's prized in human society would hold any genuine value to him. I see devil Sylus moulding himself after his own fixations: he might surround himself with decadence or live off the land, may play at being a god-king or a potato-sack-wearing peasant. Put on any face or body that he fancies. It all depends on what he wants to do on any given millennium. - and what any soul contracts he has ongoing may call for. Giving away the crown jewels of some forgotten kingdom the same as tossing away a handful of dirt. Giving his newest fascination - this feral, vicious, selfish, honest mortal - a few paltry coins, no more than feeding a wild horse a handful of grass plucked from the roadside.
As usual I have zero clue where I'm going with this, but putting the rest under the cut in case we get into any squicks... neither reader or Sylus here have much of a moral compass, heed well. (tw: blood)
He's never bothered to conceal his desires. Sylus wants to see what you'll do next, but beyond that, before your painfully short-lived flesh expires and you're returned to the cosmic wheel, he wants your soul. Perhaps to decorate his infernal halls, or to play with for a while, or perhaps even to raise you into a fine demon in his image. Point being, he wants to have it, first.
He proposes a contract, just to see if you'll bite: he'll bring you all the food you can imagine and more, for the duration of your life, provide you all the comforts you could possibly want. His usual spiel promises luxury, power, beauty, but your needs are closer to the heart than those things. No, he fashions a tailored lure for you. He promises a simple home and hearth, assurance of a roof over your head. Guarantees that you'll be left alone from others, only welcoming any person into your home as breakfast, lunch, or dinner. And oh, he can taste it, souring the air. You're lonely. He can help with that too. Give you a pet of your own, something you won't find overly appetising; a cute little lizard, perhaps? How does that sound, sweetling?
But you, you lovely creature; a hungry stray in soiled clothes, you demonstrate a wisdom greater than the emperors and warlords and other fools who've requested him to their courts over time immemorial. You recoil from him and swipe away the ghostly mirage of a scroll & quill that had appeared in front of you, spitting a crimson glob - rather accurately - right onto his cheek, and half stumble, half run away down the dirt path. The terrain is flat, sprawling farmlands, so he is able to watch your silhouette turn into a tiny dot as you run away, your congealed spit and blood dripping down his jaw, off his chin.
Sylus doesn't pursue you. Nor does he mention the contract when he materialises again a few weeks later beside you, as you lurk in the alleyways of some backwater town. Time is on his side, not yours.
The filth on you had become enough of a bother that you'd crept into an inhabited place willingly, and were busy eyeing the marketstalls where some simple but clean clothes were being sold.
A thief as well as a cannibal? You're quite the catch.
Like a startled cat, you jump and flee as if the devil is at your heels - really, he's just here to chat - but he catches your wrist, and when you pivot and come at him instead, he holds off your attacks with ease. In between blows, he attempts to assure you that he is not here to take your soul, offer another contract, or do anything untoward. He only wants to help with your current predicament.
If anything, his claims make you even more vicious. You trust nothing in this world, let alone a man who claimed to be a Devil and wove strange magic before your eyes.
It's clear enough that you won't tolerate his presence, so he disappears, leaving a generous stack of brand new coins where he'd been standing.
He observes from a nearby vantage point. Would you steal with legal tender within reach? He thinks yes. Those nigh unrecognisable clothes you're wearing were undoubtedly stolen too, or otherwise pilfered from a body that no longer needed them.
Once more, you defy his expectations, and what you do has him shaking with laughter.
You tear a shred of fabric, gingerly wrapping the coins in them, and meld into the crowd, weaving through til you're near the stall. On an opportune moment while the owner is looking away, you snatch an item off the hook - but you leave the coins on the table. His vulture-sharp eyes read the mutter on your lips. Better him than me to be cursed with a Devil's gold.
A few decades spent dallying with a mortal is less than a drop in the ocean to him, and he decides in that moment: you'll suffice as his entertainment until your last breath. It will be all the sweeter if he can claim your soul somewhere along the way.
I thought I was going insane. I saw your other blog, and I was thoroughly confused. I was like, “Have I been pronouncing their blog name wrong this entire time?” I nearly shat myself. Also, when I sound your name out, it sounds like “pea-uh,” and once again, I have no idea why my brain works like this. Anyways, I hope you’re having a good day, lovely.
being new to tumblr, when I was setting up it made sense to have my writing stuff in one place and my inevitable hoarde of all the wonderful things to enjoy here in another, but now that I've actually used it for a bit I realise it would've been so fine to chuck it all in a chaotic pile. reminds me of the old, wild internet. it can be hectic over there but I think that's in the spirit of things. I'm having an okay day. Fighting the need for a nap and doing some writing exercises to keep my brain busy at work. How are you? 💚
Sylus primps himself like a cat for his dear doctor's attention.
A wicked sight, lying on his stomach, head propped up by his hands under the pillow; not a slip of clothing on him, black satin sheets tangled low around his hips.
By all appearances he is perfectly relaxed, but there is measured intent to his movements, each deliberate stretch. He knows he is being watched from the doorway. He rolls his shoulders, a fluid motion which ripples down his back, the tension of the day freed from his tight, bunched muscles. Allows the satisfaction of this release to escape in an overlong sigh, as an indulgent arch of his spine. He listens for the steps approaching him which stop by the edge of the bed. And he waits, waits to receive the touch he's been angling for.
Tonight, it is the cool press of Zayne's finger above his tailbone. He shivers. His body remembers the other nights: lips against his pulse, the drag of a knuckle against his cheek, a hand laid possessively on his nape, or splayed across his back to keep him down. This touch is chaste in comparison. Just one finger, trailing up the middle. Zayne reaches the space between his shoulder blades, but then he veers off to the right—
—and flicks the little brown nub of skin there.
"You should have this mole examined," he says with an amused huff under his breath.
...And like any cat owner, Zayne has become rather familiar with these idle games.
A few snapshots of the shenanigans you get up to with your dragon.
- addendums to abundance and choice
dragon!sylus x gn!reader, tooth-rotting domestic fluff, drabble format, sfw; 800wc
I. Provide a reassuring, secure dwelling.
Most of the peculiarities that accompanied living with a dragon were tolerable with the passage of time. There was one exception, when you woke up early for the nth time because every single muscle in your back was screaming at you.
You mentioned you couldn't sleep on piles of gold forever, and he'd muttered about picky mortals under his breath.
Hours later, you spotted him atop a treasure mound pulling out various delicate fabrics, delicately held in his claws. You were presented with a makeshift nest he put together for you, made of assorted drapes and velvet finery.
A strange ritual took place in the transitional period that followed: out of sheer stubbornness, he insisted on using the gold piles as his bed, flippantly stating he would sleep there, apart from you. After he thought you'd fallen asleep he would migrate to the nest without fail, his tail coiling around your leg to keep you pressed to him. The nights would unfold this way for a good while, until he finally surrendered to the temptation of the silken fabrics, swathed in the promise of your welcoming, warm embrace.
II. Offer a variety of food.
You bring up his exclusive diet of meat when you realise that's all he's eaten since you met him.
"Sweetie, I'm part dragon, if you haven't noticed." He says through a mouthful of raw antelope, his lips dyed scarlet with its blood.
"Yes, but even you need a healthy, balanced diet. Back then, I befriended a stray lizard in the Sanctuary by bribing it with fruits and vegetables," you reply straight away, having anticipated his response.
He arches a brow and opens his mouth to interject, but you continue, "not to mention, food can be a source of happiness too. There are so many flavours and textures you're missing out on. Allow me to show you."
Though he remains sceptical, he obliges you in gathering the ingredients for a salad with some simple dressing the next day. You'll never forget the look on his face after he took a bite.
III. Engage in novel forms of play.
"How about a chase or two around the den? I could use a stretch."
Any chance to exercise his human legs comes as a novelty – after all, flying is his main form of cardio. You manage to evade him for a few minutes, but he gets you when you tire, pinning you to the ground with a triumphant gleam in his eyes; not unlike the expression of a predator that's caught its quarry.
These games of tag turn into a regular amusement, and you're glad for it. At least there was another option besides hide and seek now.
Sometimes he initiates them during your late afternoon excursions to the valley bordering his city, and you aren't always the one being pursued. He enjoys it the other way around too, stealing playful glances over his shoulder as you run hot on his heels through the grassy slopes, the wind mussing up his hair, laughing as the waning light drenches his eyes in the splendid shades of a thousand blazing sunsets.
IV. Decorate the enclosure.
You'd been waiting for his curiosity about humans to surface again, and leaped into action the second Sylus brought it up, his tone almost shy.
"Show me more of this… art."
You first taught him how to combine water with finely ground clay to create pigments—he'd generously carved out wide stone bowls for you to hold them in, hollowing them out like they were made of paper.
A few adjustments had to be made along the way to account for your difference in species. While your fingers sufficed as artistic tools, the same couldn't be said of his rigid claws. He couldn't apply the mixture with any shape or form other than thin and crooked lines. To accommodate him, you went and plucked a handful of hairs from the wild horses that roamed his lands, and bound them to a stick with some rope to create a brush that he could use instead.
His cave served as a vast canvas from then on. You never told him what to make; just extended patient encouragements to stave off the occasional flashes of self-doubt that threatened his budding creativity.
Days became weeks, then months, as the walls were covered with his paintings, alongside yours. He gravitated to drawing the panoply of animals that called his territory home—aurochs, ibex, eagles, and bison, to name some—with intense earnestness, his brow furrowed in great focus. One time, you saw him tucked in a concealed nook of the lair, sketching a dragon and human cuddled together.
It took every ounce of willpower you had to wait until that evening to tackle him down and smother him in kisses. In between each press of your lips, you mumbled, "I— love you— so— damn— much, you silly man."
the descriptions of Sylus's paintings reminded me of Paleolithic cave art, like this painting from the Lascaux complex
and... idk but it's making me unreasonably emotional. Sylus, who thought he could never be anything other than a dragon, sitting in his cave with MC, unknowingly participating in one of humanity's longest-running traditions. Something that many consider a hallmark of humanity, exclusive to us alone.
I like to think that somewhere in the back of the cave, outlined in red pigment, there's a pair of handprints. One large, one small. A mirror of the handprints that have been left on every continent for millenia and meaning the same thing: we were here.
@carmelves 🥲 casually destroying me on a lovely Sunday morning. You're spot on. As I was writing that section, I had the strongest visual of someone in the distant future finding the cave, their home, uncovering these paintings which remain long after they're gone. Long after their bones have dissolved back to the earth, these marks persist through the ages, exactly as you said: We were here. Here is the proof. Embedded in the ancient rock, memories of brushes and fingers messy with pigment, the presence of two souls finding solace in the one place they could exist together.
just recently realized ive never written a story about vampires so um brainrotting for snowcrow vamp au is kinda shit rn. all i know is how they met and thats all. and i want sylus to be somewhat like marshall lee but more unhinged. idk if zayne should be a vampire too or not bc like what r they just gonna suck each other? bruh theyre gonna starve but idk idk how vampires work ive always been a werewolf person teehee
also does he or does he not look like miranda priestly's son here
he's 20 here when he was still skinny. he might already be bulking during this time but its hard for him cuz of his super sonic metabolism which makes him a poop machine. yes he will spend hours in the bathroom, yes zayne has to suffer too bc of it. sometimes his mom teases him for coming home even lankier than before, which makes his determination to bulk grow stronger, we'll get into his bulking story soon.
Zayne glances from his book at the laptop perched on Sylus's lap. On the screen is a picture of the fifth protein powder brand he's pulled up tonight, all the others rejected for some reason or another. The long list of ingredients zoomed in for Zayne to audit.
"No," is his swift answer.
"Huh? You didn't even read the ingredients." Sylus scrutinises it again, line by line, trying to find what disqualified it.
"There was a report a week ago about toxins present in certain protein powders. That company was listed among the major offenders."
His confusion deepens with Zayne's explanation. A week ago? Sylus spaces out for a second while he does the mental math. He said offhand that he wanted to start going to the gym last Friday, which—he checks the date on the bottom corner of the screen—was also a week ago...
They're sitting shoulder to shoulder, crammed together on Zayne's bed; Sylus twists around to face him. Zayne doesn't meet his eyes, resolutely focused on his book.
"So you've been doing research for my bulk since the day I mentioned it?" he accuses.
Zayne doesn't deign him with a reply, but his right eye does twitch. The tiniest muscle spasm, but Sylus's eyes are sharp as a raptor's and catches it. Bingo. Exposed.
"You should've told me -"
"Don't focus on supplements. It's best to get your nutrients from real food," Zayne interrupts, his voice raised a touch, eyes boring holes into the page in front of him. Sylus watches his ears go from peach to pink to red as he talks. Cute. "We can get some protein-rich food on our next grocery trip. Beef and chicken is good, of course, but tofu actually has a lot of protein too. You also should try to eat more fruit and vegetables."
"You're one to talk." Sylus side eyes the pile on the floor just from yesterday, empty donut boxes, chocolate and candy wrappers, pastry wrappings branded with the college cafeteria's logo – his roomie's regular plug for sweets. "Anyway, I don't want to. Groceries are too expensive."
"I'm not the one who kicked up a fuss about gaining muscle." Zayne finally meets his eyes then, sending him a frigid glare that Sylus shrugs off with an easy grin. He loves when Zayne looks into his eyes. "Hasn't your website been doing well lately?" And quietly, he adds, "I can always pick up more shifts at the vet too."
That last bit earns him a flick to the forehead. "I'm not making you work more for my thing," Sylus dismisses. He closes his laptop, stretches and scoots off the bed. "I'll figure it out later. I'm hungry. Want to go get dinner? My shout," he says over his shoulder, already halfway to the door.
Zayne nods and follows suit, earmarking his book before putting it down. "I want to have the Chinese down the street. And Mixue, after."
"Again? We just had that exact combo two days ago," Sylus complains.
"Consider it payment for all the research I did."
He groans, but acquiesces. "Fine. Never letting you help me with anything again," he mutters.
hi pea this is knightjpg!! 🫶🫶 for the ask game i want to ask you 3 & 9 :)c
Hey knight, thanks for the ask!
3 ⧽. what's something you like about your writing?
This one's tough - I'm pretty blind to the qualities of my own work. The process of pulling an idea from my imagination and rendering it in words activates the technical side of my brain rather than the experiential/emotional, and it never switches off, even when I'm finished.
End result being that I don't feel any particular way when I'm re-reading anything I've made. It's really unfortunate, because I did start this hobby again with only one ground rule: I don't write anything I wouldn't read, and that remains true, but I've since found out... I also don't get much out of reading what I write.
ALL THAT TO SAY, any and all feedback I've gotten is therefore good as gold and my north star for knowing what the heck is going on with my stuff! To answer the question - I sincerely don't have much of an opinion on what I like about my writing, but based on all the kind things people have had to say about it, my best wager is: my sense of humour seems to click more often than not, and I do alright with establishing a particular setting or tone.
9 ⧽. tell us about a wip/idea that you're excited about!
I'm neck-deep in a vampire AU snowcrow idea that started plaguing me after I saw this fanart weeks ago. Still in the very early stages, but I've been having a fantastic time working out Zayne's side of things - him as an immortal, centuries-old vampire who reluctantly sires Sylus into his first & only thrall to save him in his dying moments.
Being a vampire is, at least in Zayne's lens, a loathsome curse. He's self flagellating, hates his own nature and eternal thirst, chronically fatigued because he exclusively feeds from expired bloodbags that barely keeps his hunger at bay and nothing more, burnt out and achy from long hours at the hospital. Ironically, despite Sylus being also at rock bottom when they meet, he'll be the one to help pull Zayne out of this hole, and hopefully they'll find some peace together after a few trials and tribulations.
(It was supposed to be just some lighthearted, fun, sexy vampire action - there'll still be plenty of that along the way - but I latched on to also piling him up with issues that need to be worked out...)
Thank you so much for the ask! Also I'll letchu know I am still incredibly jazzed about third tempo & sugar pit (I don't think I'll ever not be!) so thank you again and forever for sharing your work!
4 ⧽. is there an au or trope that you haven't written before, but would want to try?
10 ⧽. what genre is generally the easiest or most enjoyable for you to write? which is the hardest?
20 ⧽. answer any one of the other questions that you want to!
Halluuuuu!
4 ⧽. is there an au or trope that you haven't written before, but would want to try?
....so I found out weeks ago about a real sport we have on Earth called chess boxing. Visualise - a standard boxing ring with a chess setup complete with table and chairs next to it. Opponents play alternating rounds of boxing and blitz chess until victory is achieved via knockout or checkmate (plus some other conditions).
IS THAT NOT THE MOST SYLUS CODED SPORT THERE EVER WAS? I really really really want to write a professional chess boxer!Sylus au. One small problem: I know nothing, zilch, zip, nada, about either chess or boxing. The amount of research and technical overhead that this calls for, even just to make it passably believable, is more than I'm mentally prepared to take on right now. 😆
10 ⧽. what genre is generally the easiest or most enjoyable for you to write? which is the hardest?
The few genres I've dabbled in aside from fluff haven't felt easier to write per se, but I love writing angst. The many tangled emotions that come with a great angsty premise are a real treat to bring to life. Hardest is smut for sure, I am too intimidated to even wade into that territory most days.
(any pick) 13 ⧽. do you have any writing projects/goals/plans you're working on/want to work on?
Very keen to write longer stuff! I'll always enjoy fleshing out a single interaction, moment, or idea that doesn't 'need' more than a ficlet or drabbles' worth to get across, but it's just as valuable to me to continue pushing my comfort zone when it comes to writing, and right now that takes the form of these more ambitious ideas and projects.
Oooo I’d love to hear your answers for 4 and 8 for red-eyed stranger for the fic writer asks!! 💜
Hihi star, thanks for popping in!
4 ⧽. is there an au or trope that you haven't written before, but would want to try?
There are so many, but off the top of my head... I'd be thrilled to write an enemies-to-lovers story one day that takes a whiiiiile to get to the "lovers" part. It can be such an amazing dynamic when it's given the time to breathe and mature. One of my all favourite fantasy series is my holy grail for this: the main couple in Kushiel's Legacy by Jaqueline Carey who go through over 2,000 pages of relationship development (in between several epic adventures and deep political schemes). They're not strictly enemies but have a really rocky start, and their growth from there felt so natural.
8 ⧽. what part of The Red-Eyed Stranger is your favorite?
(I've been very much smothered by plot bunnies lately and haven't quite crawled out from under the pile, oops, but) I'm very excited to explore the ambiguity of Sylus' origins and intentions with our dear bed&breakfast owner. Who is he, really? What does he want? What were his early days as a hunter like? Why is he so darn handsome?? - As for what's out already, the dialogue is my favourite bit!
1 ⧽. if you could sit down and finish any one of your wips without anything stopping you (time, tiredness, etc), which fic would you choose? tell us about it if you want!
2 ⧽. if you could sit down and finish any completely new fic without anything stopping you (time, tiredness, etc), what would you write? tell us about it if you want!
3 ⧽. what's something you like about your writing?
4 ⧽. is there an au or trope that you haven't written before, but would want to try?
5 ⧽. is there a certain kind of fic that feels the most satisfying to finish? any reason why?
6 ⧽. if you were to write a part two/sequel to a fic, what fic would you want to write it for?
7 ⧽. is there a fic you wish you received feedback on, but didn't get any/much? this ask game is asking someone else to then give feedback on said fic, pretty pretty please!!!
8 ⧽. what part of [insert fic] is your favorite?
9 ⧽. tell us about a wip/idea that you're excited about!
10 ⧽. what genre is generally the easiest or most enjoyable for you to write? which is the hardest?
11 ⧽. if you were to rewrite [insert fic] with [insert different character/ship] how do you think it might change?
12 ⧽. what's a song or two you associate with [insert fic]?
13 ⧽. do you have any writing projects/goals/plans you're working on/want to work on?
14 ⧽. is there anything outside of your normal content that you want to write?
15 ⧽. if you wrote a fic called [insert title] with [insert character/ship] what do you think it might be about?
16 ⧽. if you wrote a fic called [insert title] what character/ship would you want to write it for?
17 ⧽. are there any songs you want to write a songfic for?
18 ⧽. how do you want your writing to feel to your readers?
19 ⧽. give a hint/teaser about something you're writing without any context or explanation! tease us haha
20 ⧽. answer any one of the other questions that you want to!
