#And I don't typically write this much every reply. I promise.

[kiwriteswords]

May I please request “Discussing things that set themselves up to be hurt and trusting that the other won't take advantage of it” with Hotch and a female reader who has issues with trust and intimacy?

Hi!! Thanks so much for requesting a short drabble! I hope you enjoy!

Drabble Prompts | Other Writing | Ao3

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader!

Word Count: 1k

Rating: Everyone

TW: Canon typical themes, trust issues

A Leap of Trust

The BAU had wrapped up a long, draining case that left everyone emotionally spent. As the team packed up their things to head home, you found yourself lagging behind, lingering in the conference room. You didn’t quite feel ready to leave yet. It was easier to bury yourself in work than to face the quiet of your apartment, the silence that would force you to think—about everything.

You heard the door open behind you. "Y/N," Hotch's deep voice carried through the room, soft and careful. "You okay?"

You turned, managing a small smile. "Yeah, just catching my breath."

Aaron's brow furrowed slightly, a look of concern passing over his features. "This case was hard," he said, stepping closer. "You don't have to hold everything inside, you know. I'm here."

You sighed, knowing that he meant well. But trust, for you, was not something that came easily. It hadn’t for a long time. Your past was full of people who had promised to be there for you and then left when things got complicated, leaving you to pick up the pieces. You weren’t sure how to explain that to Hotch, not without sounding broken.

"I know you're here," you replied softly, eyes on the file in front of you, tracing the edge with your fingertips. "But it's not that simple, Aaron."

He didn’t push you. Hotch had always been patient with you, but you could tell that he was waiting for you to let him in. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to; you did. But that made it scarier. Trusting him meant handing over pieces of yourself that no one had seen in years, and trusting that he wouldn't break them.

He took another step, standing beside you now. His hand rested gently on the back of your chair, not quite touching you, but close enough that you could feel his presence. You could always feel him.

"What is it that's holding you back?" His voice was quiet, understanding. "You don't have to pretend with me, Y/N."

The vulnerability in his words caught you off guard. It was like he knew you were struggling, and not just with the case. You swallowed, feeling the weight of the moment settle between you. If you didn’t say something now, you'd only keep pushing him away. And maybe, just maybe, you were tired of doing that.

You shifted in your seat, finally meeting his eyes. "I'm… I'm scared," you admitted, the words coming out barely above a whisper. "I'm scared of letting someone in, of trusting that they won't hurt me. Every time I’ve trusted someone in the past, they’ve taken advantage of it. And I can't…" You paused, struggling to find the words. "I can’t go through that again."

Hotch's expression softened, and he moved to sit beside you, his eyes never leaving yours. "I understand why you would feel that way," he said, his voice steady, grounding. "And I won’t pretend to know everything you've been through. But what I can tell you is that trust is never a guarantee that things won’t hurt. It’s a leap of faith."

You felt your chest tighten at the thought. "But what if I get hurt again?"

"Then you tell me," he said, his voice laced with sincerity. "And I promise you, I will never take advantage of that trust. I’ve seen what it looks like when people use that against others, and I won't let that happen to you. Not with me."

His words made you feel seen, really seen. And for a moment, you let yourself imagine what it would be like to believe him, to believe that he wouldn't hurt you. It was terrifying, and yet something inside you whispered that maybe, just maybe, he was different.

"I want to believe you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"You can," Hotch replied, his hand slowly reaching for yours. He paused, giving you the chance to pull away, but you didn’t. You let his fingers lace with yours, his warmth seeping into your skin. "I know it’s not easy for you. And I know this is a risk. But I’m not going anywhere, Y/N."

You looked down at your joined hands, feeling the weight of his words. It wasn’t just about the physical touch—it was about the trust that came with it. The trust you were giving him, even if it was in small doses.

"I don’t know how to do this," you confessed, your voice trembling slightly. "I've never been good at… trusting people. At letting someone in."

Hotch's thumb brushed gently over the back of your hand. "Then we take it slow. We figure it out together. And if you need space, or if you feel like it's too much, you tell me. We’ll move at your pace."

The way he said it—so calm, so assured—made you feel like maybe you could trust him, that he really wouldn't hurt you. He wasn’t asking for more than you could give, and that meant more to you than he would ever know.

You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. "Okay," you said, your voice steadying. "Okay, we take it slow."

Hotch smiled then—just a small, barely-there curve of his lips—but it was enough to make your heart skip a beat. He brought your joined hands to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. "Thank you for trusting me."

For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel the need to pull away. Instead, you held on just a little tighter, a little longer, feeling his warmth settle into the cracks of your guarded heart.

Tag List

[elvenisms]

drunk on you —; s.h.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader [2.4k]

summary: Steve is a needy, needy drunk, and you just can't get enough of it. 18+ MDNI

cw: smut, fluff, established relationship, no use of y/n, sub!steve, dubcon (they are both drunk), unprotected p in v (don't try this at home), mention of oral (male receiving)

author's note: always need more sub!steve in my life, so i got a little carried away. my first piece of writing on tumblr in, like, 5 years. enjoy!

masterlist

Tonight was one of your favorite kinds of nights. 

Eddie’s trailer was littered with empty bags of snacks, beer bottles, and nearly bursting at the seams with how loud the music was playing. In the middle of the room, Robin and Nancy were holding hands, jumping around in a circle, screaming out the lyrics to I Wanna Dance With Somebody; they were just drunk enough to go full slumber party mode, which was highly typical. Coincidentally, Eddie was just drunk enough to sing along, sat back on the couch with a huge grin on his face.

You would’ve joined the pair, had Steve’s arms not been so cozy around you. You were sitting in his lap, hips between his thighs, his arms snugly around your waist. Now and then, he’d drunkenly rest his head on your shoulder, nuzzle his nose into the side of your face, or press a kiss to your neck. God, he’s adorable, you thought. You thought that every day, but when you were drunk, it turned into every minute or so.

During one of his nuzzles, Steve’s lips ghosted over the shell of your ear. “Take me home.” His voice was breathy, higher in pitch.

There were lots of reasons tonight was one of your favorite kinds of nights, but one in particular: Steve was a needy drunk. Needed to kiss you, needed to touch you, and needed you to take care of him. It was a special, wonderful change of pace from being constantly cared for by him—one that sent a warm, jittery feeling down your spine.

You could feel his arms around your waist tightening as he began to pepper soft kisses behind your ear, down your neck. It made thinking through the logistics of getting your drunk selves back to his house harder, to say the least. And speaking of hard…

You turned your head towards him, trying to keep it together. “We’ll have to walk. There’s no way either of us are driving.”

“I don’t care.” He replied immediately, his lips coming off of your neck just long enough to say it. 

Unsure if you could last another minute without taking him on Eddie’s couch, you redirected your attention to the group; a lull in the music made for perfect timing. “I think we’re gonna head out.” You bit back a smile, trying to be discreet. Oh, who were you kidding, Steve was still mouthing at your neck, he’d just moved to the other side now. 

Eddie laughed out loud when he noticed the spectacle, kicking his feet like a little kid. Robin did much the same. “No driving!” Nancy, as motherly as she could in her state, wagged a finger at you. “Why don’t—” She hiccuped. “Why don’t you just use Eddie’s room?”

“Absolutely the fuck not!” Came from Eddie, causing Robin to drop to the ground in an even bigger fit of giggles. Even Steve was laughing now, all five of you trying to catch your breath.

“We’re walking!” You managed to get out, patting Steve’s leg to signal you were getting up. “And I would not be caught dead banging in your room, Eds, no offense. I don’t think you’ve cleaned in… like… seven years.”

“Eight, actually.” He held back more laughter, the stupidest things hitting everyone’s funny bones at this point. Within a few moments, you and Steve were saying your sheepish goodbyes, the rest of them poking fun until the door was closed behind you.

Absolute idiots, you thought, and I love them to death.

The walk to Steve’s was cold, but the promise of what was to come paired with the alcohol in your systems made it bearable. He was all smiles and gentle touches; at one point you said you’d race him, but you both nearly fell flat on your face, so that stopped pretty quickly.

By the time you reached his door, he could hardly keep his hands off of you—clinging to you anyway he could, kissing any spot he could reach. His silly grin had been replaced with a furrowed brow and a desperate look in his eyes. He had no idea how crazy it drove you to see him like this, needing you so deliberately, hair messy, nose red from the outside air. So, as soon as you were inside the house, you kissed him with a ferocity you’d been holding back since Eddie’s. 

It was enough to make him stumble backward, but he immediately adjusted, gripping you like you might float away any moment. It was messy, a little rough, not how you’d usually handle him in this state, but you needed to get it out. Your hands slid into his hair, grabbing the strands with your fingers, and he practically whined. “Need you, baby, please.”

“I’ve got you, Stevie.” Your voice was warm and low as you thumbed across his pouting lips. “Gonna take care of you, babe. Let’s go upstairs.”

He nodded, entwining your fingers with his and leading the way to his bedroom. He immediately flopped onto the bed, causing you to giggle as you fumbled with your shoes, tossing each one aside. Soon enough, you were crawling into the bed as well, lowering yourself so that you were lying on top of him.

You put your lips on his gently, and he brought a hand up to cup your face, deepening it. “You’re so pretty like this,” You whispered between kisses, feeling him harden against your abdomen. “Needy for me.” You needed to tell him now, instead of sober, when he’d get all shy and embarrassed about it. One of these days, you’d convince him it was the sexiest thing ever. 

His hips softly bucked up against you, unintentionally, and he made a beautiful noise. “Couldn’t stop thinking…” He pushed some of your hair aside to kiss your jaw. “...At the party.”

“What were you thinking about?” You asked sweetly, hand traveling down to palm him through his jeans. “About—oh—about you r-riding me,” His hips began moving to meet your hand, fingers squeezing your hips. “Cumming in you.” God, help me, you thought. 

“I can make that happen.” You bit your lip, resisting the urge to absolutely ravish him right now. It’s always better when you wait. “Need some of these clothes off, though.”

Steve nodded, already completely lost in you, and pushed himself upright, allowing you to grab the edge of his t-shirt. You pulled it over his head, and quickly did the same to yourself, his hands immediately finding your chest as he laid back again. His eyes were open wider than they had been the past three hours, and it made you chuckle. 

“I love this one,” His fingertips traced over the red lace on your bra. “S’my favorite one.”

“I know it is.” You preened, consistently amazed at how you’d bagged the sexiest dork in history. 

His fingers traveled around your back, and it took a bit more effort than usual to undo the clasp. Once he did, though, he was kneading at your breasts, his hips beginning to cant up again. “Fuck, baby, so gorgeous,” His eyes squeezed shut, and the combination of his hands, hard-on, and praise made your breath hitch. “Need you so bad, so, so bad.”

Your head fell back, enjoying the sensation for a few more seconds, until you started toying with the button on his jeans. You were trying with all of your might to go slowly, to fight against the way your brain was going fuzzy, but Jesus Christ, you just wanted him mewling beneath you—and you knew he would be soon enough. The role reversal was intoxicating.

Both of you were nearly nude within a few moments, Steve straining even harder against his briefs as he felt the warmth pooling in your underwear. You leaned down to kiss him, lifting your hips to keep him from grinding against you, though everything in you screamed to let it continue. 

“Want you in my mouth, Stevie,” You breathed against his neck, kissing the moles there. “You want that?”

He whimpered then, at both the loss of contact and the proposition. “I do, but, don’t think I’d last,” His hands ran down you wildly, your neck, stomach, thighs, as if they wanted to be everywhere at once. “Close just from this.”

Embarrassingly, a small noise left your lips just from hearing that; it almost sounded like a beg. You quickly decided that you couldn’t deny him anything else. “That’s okay, baby.” You cooed, brushing some stray hairs away from his forehead. “Want you so bad, gonna take care of you, okay?”

He was all uh huhs and pleases now, and you moved down to slowly remove what was left between the two of you, chests heaving in anticipation. Steve was achingly hard, which made him look even larger than usual—you wanted to take a photo of him like this, a sheen of sweat on his skin, hair mussed, lips kiss-bitten and pink. A piece of heaven. 

“D’you need me to,” He panted, far too gone to form a full sentence. “Don’t want it to hurt.”

On a normal day, he was insistent about getting you ready for him, opening you up with his fingers; he refused to let you experience any kind of discomfort, unless, of course, you asked for it. You found it highly endearing that he considered it now, as desperate as he was.

“No, baby.” You laced your fingers with his, a small smile on your face. “I’m ready for you, promise. Sit up for me, yeah?”

He nodded quickly, removing his hand from yours to push up from his palms, his back now against the headboard. You moved forward to straddle him, and his hands found your waist, squeezing the skin there. “Love you so much,” You cooed, drunkenly, pressing more kisses to his jaw. “My boy.”

“My girl.” Was all Steve could manage, though you knew that meant I love you, too.

You reached between the two of you, rubbing the head of his cock between your soaked folds, and it made him keen beautifully, jaw slack, eyes closed. Finally, you began to sink down on him, elliciting a long, low moan from both of you.

“Baby, baby,” He whined, his face finding the crook of your neck, and your hand slid up the back of his neck. “I know, Stevie, feels so—” A groan broke through your lips, feeling yourself filled to the hilt. “—so good, you feel so good.”

You moved your hips, beginning to slowly grind against him. His fingers immediately dug into your back, pulling you as close as possible. His skin against yours was warm, safe, perfect. The small, choked noises he made caused you to clench around him, making his cock twitch in return. You were both completely adrift in each other, sure that the house could be burning down around you without notice. 

His hands began to wander again, searching for purchase, and you could feel his breathing grow more labored against your neck. “What do you need, baby?” You whispered softly, hips still moving at an agonizing pace. When his head tilted back, you had to choke back a sound at the way he looked. A complete and utter mess.

“Need—just,” Words failing him, his fingers gripped at your hips, pushing you down on him even harder with each grind. It hit you right where you needed him, and a filfthy sound fell from his lips, the combination making you wonder how longer you’d last. 

“Shit, baby,” You breathed, your fingers coming up to card through his hair. “Need it harder, yeah?” Steve nodded furiously, nosing against your cheek. There was no way you could deny him this way, pupils blown, jaw slack.

Your fingers wrapped themselves in his locks, like an anchor, before picking up the pace with your hips. He cried out immediately, pressing himself even deeper in you, making that familiar warm feeling spread through your abdomen. “Sh-shit, fuck, thank you, thankyouthankyou,” He babbled, fingertips certainly leaving bruises on your hips, and you relished in the feeling, your mind an endless stream of Steve Steve Steve.

“M’gonna, fuck,” He sounded almost pitiful, and it made staving off your release difficult.

“Let go, Stevie, c’mon,” You coaxed, giving his hair another tug, and that was all he needed to turn white-hot.

The noise he made was obscene, hips stuttering up into you, face pressed to your chest. It sent you straight over the edge with him, your walls squeezing him desperately, amplifying the near-pornographic sounds between the two of you. You clung to each other through it, coming down slowly, entirely blissed out. Your grip on each other subsided, but you stayed where you were, chests heaving, tangled together sweatily.

“Thank you.” Steve kissed your collarbone, coming to rest his forehead against your own. He was smiling sweetly, eyes hooded from drunkenness and exhaustion. 

“Thank you.” You emphasized, probably looking much the same. “You’re… God, you’re something else.”

He chuckled at that, and you slowly rose from his lap, careful not to overstimulate either of you. You grabbed one of his t-shirts from the dresser, sliding it on, and padded your way to the bathroom for your responsible, post-sex pee. Once you’d returned, Steve was tucked beneath the comforter, already asleep.

You took a moment to admire him from the doorway, shaking your head softly, before climbing in beside him, drifting off just as fast. 

“Last night was amazing.” You smirked, seated at Steve’s kitchen table the next morning, tucking into some breakfast. “Love it when you get like that.”

“Like what?” He asked from the kitchen, feigning innocence. He rounded the corner, holding his own plate, and took a seat next to you. You gave him a look. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The smug look in his eyes said he definitely did know what you were talking about, and he had enjoyed every second. You decided two could play at this game.

You shrugged, taking another bite. “Maybe you should ask Eddie, Robin and Nance.” He choked a little on his food, making you grin. “You started pretty early.”

He groaned, bringing his hands to his face. “No I did not.”

“Oh yes,” You stifled laughter, “But, it’s alright, I’m sure they’ll have no idea what you’re talking about.”

His fingers parted over his face, one eye peeking through. Your smile was enough to break him, both of you dissolving into a fit of giggles, his face slightly redder than it was before.

[kookslastbutton]

hii i hope ur well!! just wanna say i absolutely adore ur writing it's so addictive ahaha <33 here's a request i have, if u don't mind: so basically jin and the reader are in a relationship and jin was pretty confident with the relationship at the start, but he feels like after y/n met the other members they spend more time with each other than jin + y/n, and then one day something happens thats just the last straw for him so his jealousy is now visible + a hot make out sesh if u dont mind lmaoo

End of the Line ༓ KSJ (m)

✑ Summary: Your relationship with Seokjin hits a bumpy path when he notices you've been spending more time with his friends than him. It's an understatement to say your boyfriend has had enough of it.

pairing: seokjin x reader

au/genre: fluff, little bit of angst, some crack, suggestive smut, established relationship, drabble

rating: m, 18+

word count: 1,392

warnings: seokjin is jealous and a bit pompous lol, seokjin just wants oc to pay attention to him again 🥺, reference to super tuna bc I couldn't resist, also yeah some crack at first bc its Seokjin, swearing, light fighting, hot make out session as requested, ass gr*pping, manhandling, feat. jhs, myg, & kth

now playing: super tuna

a/n: This was very fun to write anon! 🤩 tysm for your kind words!! It means so much to me 💗 I really hope you like this ☺

You and Seokjin started out as friends—always accompanying the other to weddings, karaoke nights, nature walks, and even fishing trips. It was when Seokjin caught a super tuna on one of his trips to sea that you were beyond proud of him. You didn't hesitate at all to pull out your phone and take a picture of him with his catch.

Seokjin marks it as the day he knew he couldn't just stay friends with you, so he asked you out. It wasn't every day that he'd meet someone who'd get as excited over super tuna as he did after all.

'This tuna will not be released back into the water!' he promised to himself while smiling at the camera with you behind it.

Ever since that day you and Seokjin have been going out as a couple for three months. At first, the two of you were inseparable. You went on multiple dates a week; three at least.

But that all turned upside down when he took the plunge to introduce you to his inner circle, his main guys. Now whenever he asks about your day or your whereabouts you tell him you're out with Namjoon or hanging out with Jimin.

It couldn't be more obvious that you prefer spending time with his friends over him—your boyfriend. Well, he's World Wide Handsome, so whatever this thing is will end today.

Seokjin stands in front of his full-length bedroom mirror, plain white t-shirt, and classic denim jeans. The front pieces of his hair are pushed to either side of his face to make a clean middle part. "This should get her attention." He takes his phone from his pocket and snaps a mirror selfie. "I look damn good today." He sends the photo to you right after.

Seokjin: Having a good hair day, don't you think? [sent an image]

He eagerly waits for your response which typically only takes a few short minutes. But when the time on his phone jumps ahead twenty minutes without a reply, he just knows something's up.

Jagiya 😘: it's nice ❤😊

"Unbeliveable," he scoffs. "That's all you have to say?" Seokjin nearly glares at the screen as he types out a response.

Seokjin: Where are you? I miss you and want to see you 😞

Jagiya 😘: I'm home bby. We can go out if you want??

Seokjin lights up at this. He hasn't been able to see you all week between work schedules and oh yeah...you hanging out with his friends. The last part has him scowling. He's glad you get along with his buds and all but did you have to get so close to all of them?!

Seokjin: yes, come over as soon as you can! We can see a movie or go for lunch 😀

Jagiya: okay, I'll be there in half an hour.

Mission complete. Seokjin slips his phone back into his pocket and combs his slender fingers through his hair.

"Congratulations bro, your girlfriend's yours again!" He gives himself a pat over the shoulder then heads to the living room to wait for you.

When he hears fists pounding on his door he leaps to open it with a big grin plastered on his face.

"Hey hyung!" Seokjin's grin melts when he sees Hoseok, Yoongi, and Taehyung standing in the hallway outside his apartment. You're in between all of them, touching a little too close in his opinion. Seokjin tosses you a 'what the fuck' look instantly.

"Kook, Joon, and Jimin had other plans so they couldn't make it. The rest of us are free though. What movie are we seeing?" You say, oblivious to your error.

Seokjin doesn't reply but clutches your wrist and pulls you towards him, more aggressively than he meant. He then slams the door before the others can walk in.

"Seokjin! What the hell are you doing?" You shake your wrist from out of his grasp, bewildered by his sudden temperament.

"What am I doing? I'm asking you the same thing! I said I wanted to go out with you today, not the peanut gallery!"

"Hey, fuck you man!" On the other side of the door Yoongi cusses. Seokjin pays no attention to it as he's far too concerned with you.

"I'm sorry Jinnie—" you start, realizing he wanted this is be a date. "I ran into the guys on the way over and invited them because I thought we were just hanging out. The more the merrier..."

Seokjin's eyes widen, the vein in his neck slightly protruding. His eyebrows knit together too. "Hang out? Since when do we just hang out? Are you my girlfriend or not?"

"Of course I am—"

"Then why are you bringing them everywhere you go?! This isn't a polyamorous relationship, you know? We used to go out all the time but now I have to compete with five other men plus Jungkook!"

"Jungkook's a man!" Taehyung's baritone voice pipes.

"Shut up Tae, they're fighting in there," Hoseok shushes. "I really think we should leave. I feel odd standing out here."

"I second that," Yoongi turns to head to the elevator at the end of the hall.

"Oh, oh I think they're calming down now." Taehyung has his ear flushed against the apartment door. "I don't hear anything..."

"Yeah?" Hoseok leans his ear to the door too. Yoong watches them from a few feet away, arms crossed—he will not be one to fall into the door when it opens. "You're right," Hoseok speaks again. "It's dead silent in there."

From inside the apartment, Seokjin stares at you with his hands on his hips. His eyes rake up and down your body with a mix of pissed off and turned on. You look exceptionally stunning today, he observes.

"So this is all because you're jealous that I've been hanging out with your friends?"

"Yes, I'm jealous." Seokjin's hands fly up, further expressing his annoyance. "You're always too busy giggling with Jungkook or clinging onto Namjoon's biceps than going out with me, your boyfriend!"

"You are so exaggerating it. I'm just having some fun with them. And I'm not touching Namjoon's biceps so I don't know where that came from. Unless...." you narrow your eyes at the man. "You think they want to sleep with me don't you?"

"Well, why wouldn't they want you? Have you seen yourself?"

You'd be flattered by the compliment if you weren't already fuming at the fact your boyfriend is being so unbelievably unreasonable. "I can't believe you'd say that about your own friends Seokjin!" you say.

"I've known them longer than you have, so trust me. I know what I'm talking about okay?" Seokjin takes a deep breath. "I'm happy you're all friends. I just want to see you more..."

You sigh and walk up to him, hand reaching out to soothe him. "C'mon...we're just platonic. You know I love you right? I'd never do anything like that and they wouldn't either."

"I know. But fuck, you make me so crazy," he huffs and closes the distance with you. Rough hands press on your waist as he pulls you into himself. His plump lips lean down and kiss you with full force.

You let out a muffled whine and thread your fingers through his soft, fluffy hair. "Seokjin-"

He shuts you up with his tongue that pushes into your mouth, licking every crevice he can find. He gives your ass a little squeeze too, before walking you backward and against the couch.

"Does this mean you're not mad at me anymore?" You pant when you're given a breath.

"No," he says, forcing you to sit down on the soft cushions. "I'm still mad because it seems you've forgotten who your boyfriend is around here and need reminding."

"Oh, wait—" you say when he starts climbing on top of you until you have no choice but to lay on your back. "Shouldn't we deal with them first?" You flick your eyes to the door where the guys were still patiently waiting; eavesdropping more like.

Seokjin traces his thumb on the bottom of your lip with a dangerous smirk. "Well, you're the one who brought them here, didn't you? And they came for a movie, no?"

You slap his chest at his antics. "No, absolutely not. Get off me. I'll tell them to beat it myself."

a/n: hoping this was okay? Lmk 💗

Masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

“Dress Up” Part 2: Second Preview!

Today was a day. Writing makes me feel better. After putting in like 50 applications for a new job, I started writing a little more of my fic. Here's another preview for Part 2 of "Dress Up"

No active warnings for this preview.

And thank you to everyone who's sent me messages, I appreciate it more than you know. I'll keep my head up, promise.

True to his word, Lucifer had managed to sneak away before you woke. After adorning his typical attire, he found himself wandering the halls of the hotel, finally stopping when he reached the lobby. Thinking he was alone, Lucifer started talking to himself and paced back and forth like a madman.

"Was this a mistake? Are we moving too fast? No, no, no it's alright, it's fine! We're fine! Get a fucking GRIP, Lucifer! You're panicking for nothing! She loves you...right? Yes, yes of course she does! Why would she say yes to you?! Unless...NO! No, none of that! Relax! Need to relax..."

"You know, if you don't quit your pacing back and forth, you're gonna wear out the carpet," Husk remarked, attempting to get Lucifer's attention in his anxious state.

"WHAT THE-" Lucifer shrieked hearing the bartender's voice. After seeing Husk standing behind the bar, he breathed out a sigh of relief and clutched his hand to his rapidly beating heart. "Geez, warn a guy next time!" Husk huffed and returned to cleaning the whiskey glass he held in his hand. "How, uhh, how much of that did you hear?"

"Enough to know that you're a fucking mess right now," the cat demon replied, setting down his now clean glass. "Perhaps you need a bartender to talk to."

"Uhh, alright?" Lucifer made his way over to the bar and took a tentative seat on one of the stools.

"This is about your girl, ain't it?" Husk correctly guessed, "about the wedding?" Lucifer sighed and nodded. "Mhmm. You love this gal, don't you?"

"Yes, of course I do!" Lucifer answered almost defensively. "She's...my everything!"

Husk picked up another dirty glass to clean. "And has she given you any reason to doubt that she feels the same way?"

Lucifer huffed. "Well, I...no, no she hasn't. She's always been there for me. Listening to my ramblings, making me laugh, consoling me during the worst times, like last night...she's...she's just perfect!"

"So what's the holdup?" Husk asked after setting the other glass down.

"It's not as simple as you're making it out to be, Husker," Lucifer retorted, pushing his way back from the bar. "I loved Lilith with all of my heart and soul. And she said...that she loved me too. But then one day, she was just gone. Vanished. We fell together. We built a life here TOGETHER! And she just leaves? It's like the last 10,000 years together meant absolutely NOTHING!" Lucifer ran his hands through his hair, trying to keep his composure. "I-I can't lose her like like I lost Lilith. I just can't! I just want to be enough for her. I don't know what I would do if she...", he couldn't finish his sentence. He sat back down at the bar, resting his head in his arms. "The pain would break me..."

The sound of a glass sliding across the counter top caught Lucifer's attention. When he lifted his head, he noticed a full glass of scotch sitting next to him. "Calms the nerves," Husk spoke. Lucifer let out a deep breath and took a swig, choking slightly in the process not realizing how strong it was.

"Not much of a drinker," Lucifer admitted, setting the glass down.

"Sir, if I may..." Husk began.

"You can call me Lucifer," the angel smiled slightly.

Husk smirked. "Lucifer, all I can tell you that love is a vulnerable emotion. I understand that you're afraid. Afraid that history will repeat itself, that your love is not meant to be, and that you're going to end up alone all over again." Lucifer's face sunk, lowering his head against his arms once more. "But," Husk continued, "I know one thing for sure. That girl up there ain't Lilith."

Lucifer raised his head, now hanging onto every word from the bartender.

"If anybody thinks you aren't enough, that's their own fucking problem. And I can tell you that your girl ain't like that at all. She adores ya, can't get her to shut up about ya! Hell, I couldn't even tell you why she ended up down here in the first place! Another one of Heaven's fuck ups, for sure. But for your sake, I'm glad she did." Husk reached over and gulped down Lucifer's unfinished glass of scotch. "Be a shame if it went to waste."

Lucifer let out the smallest of laughs. "Thank you, Husker. And you're right, even in this God forsaken pit, she manages to make it just a little bit brighter. She saved me. And I'm going to devote every moment of my immortal life to her."

"Good to hear. Now..." Husk slammed his hand down on the counter, "get your shit together and go get ready! You got a wedding to attend."

[muzicgenerator]

Hey, can I request an angst story with Bill and reader (the reader is female) abt crazy fans please? Like them (Bill and the reader) admitting somewhere (idk maybe in an interview for a magazine) that they almost broke up because of that (maybe reader's fanbase is known for being "too much" sometimes like following the reader everywhere, being so in love with her etc)

(Also could the story take place in the 2000s please?)

Goodbye 👋

i like this one im actually excited abt writing this one shot

btw im so sorry for late reply AHSJHFKDHDK please expect ill take like AT LEAST a week to answer yalls request bc im busy as hell w school 😭😭 love u guys pls understand

and again this aint entirely proof read

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

Too Much?

✮

Pairing: Bill Kaulitz x Fem Reader

Genre: Angst, Mostly fluff

Warnings: Stalking, mention of nonconsensual touching, very embarrassing storytime from bill

Request Status: closed :(

✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮ I'm Not Okay (I Promise) : My Chemical Romance

(Time set back in late November of 2007)

Being a famous actress since as a child was unbelievably tough.

You had worked so hard and expertly; you didn't even have time to spend your childhood properly.

Just at the age of 19 and you've finished numerous movies and series. A true self-made millionaire, really.

You and your ravenette boyfriend are currently doing an interview for a night show.

"So ____, wow! After a long pause from doing films you're finally gonna have one showing soon! How is it like? Being back and all; being the talk of the country."

In the past one and a half year you hadn't done any projects since you've decided to take a break for yourself. And now you're once again busy taping with film staff and directors for your new and upcoming Teenage Romance movie.

Rest assured it's not your typical boy-meets-girl or vice versa and they do sappy sweet stuff and get together kind of film; it has its own uniqueness that will surely be called as "One of 2000s greatest Teen Romance movies of all time."

"Oh, I feel great Hanna. I had a deserving break and I'm back to doing one of the things I love most. I'm even happier because I got my lover and his band to sing the theme song for the movie." You truthfully answered and chuckled by the end of your statement.

"How about you Bill? How are things with your band?" Hanna included Bill to the conversation.

At that, he smiled politely. "Everything's great with us y'know, we're still together and all. Which I'm grateful for."

After a few more minutes for pep talk; the blonde interviewer finally decided to get onto the exciting part of the show.

"And now, for the moment we've all been waiting for! Dunk Tank!" Hanna smiled widely at the selected crowd.

"Where in this game; you will pick someone from the crowd who will accompany you with this game.

Your selected teammate will ask any question they want; to which you will answer, and if you don't want to then they'll get a chance to throw a ball on the target. Where if they hit it, you'll fall down the tank."

Hanna excitedly announced despite having done this for the nth time.

"____ and Bill, play Rock, Paper, Scissors to see who goes first."

You knew you'd beat Bill since every single time you played it - he'd miserably lose.

"Oh, I'm confident in winning this one!" you proudly say.

"Just because you've beat me all the other times we played this, doesn't mean I'll lose now!" Bill accepted your challenge and laughed.

He was right. He won for the very first time.

"Oh my God! Did I seriously win?!" your black clothed boyfriend exclaimed.

"I only let you win this time because I felt sorry." you playfully rolled your eyes with a smirk.

"Whatever, I'm gonna choose now." he giggled and stepped closer to the crowd.

His fan girls were screaming at the top of their lings, begging to be chosen by him.

No, you weren't jealous. Not one bit. Sometimes Bill would even complain about you not being possessive of him from time to time and would think you're not as in love as he thought.

It's cute, really. Then you'll show him how much you love him through actions rather than words.

Bill chose a girl who seemingly looked two or three years younger.

The joyous girl screamed in surprise; "Oh my god! What?! Me??! SERIOUSLY??"

It made Bill giggle, "Yes, you! Now get down here!"

A body guard helped the girl down; and when she was no longer at the stairs she rushed Bill to hug him but abruptly stopped. "Hi oh my god you're more beautiful up close! Can I hug you?!" she says excitingly.

It made your heart flutter just how kinder your boyfriend's fans are compared to yours.

To say your fan base is crazy is an understatement. Many would harass you through nasty words or touching you with no consent; it didn't matter if they did that out of how much they "love" you, it was still disgusting.

"Um, yeah. Sure!" he hesitantly looked at you; his eyes asking for permission. To which you subtly nodded.

Again, your heart melted by how he's making sure you're okay with it. Honestly, you very much understood that being famous would mean people wanting to hug you or any form of physical contact. Plus, it's not like you can say no to Bill from hugging a fan; you'd be a scandal. And you knew Bill wouldn't have any other choice as well.

He wrapped an arm over her shoulders while she fully embraced him. Okay, you're a teensy bit jealous especially by the way she's holding him like he's her man.

But that was soon washed away when she turns to you.

"Hi! What's your name sweetie?" Hanna asked and put a mic on her mouth.

"My name is Pauline!"

Before Hanna could say anything further, Pauline beat her to it.

"____!! I'm such a big fan of you too! I've been watching your movies since forever." saying she's over the moon is definitely an understatement! This will definitely be a core memory.

Almost immediately you wrapped your arms around her back and squeezed her. This girl is definitely one of the most respectable and sweetest fan you've ever met.

Was it really low? Yes.

The audience cheered by how sweet you and Bill had been to the girl and by how jealous they were.

As Bill and Hanna chattered about God knows what; the girl leaned closer to you in order to ask a favour which no one can hear.

"Can I ask you to shout out my brother? He has a huge crush on you!"

"Sorry darling but we're in the middle of a show right now. How about later I ask the staff to send you to the backstage? Then I'll give him my magazine with an autograph, and if you have a camera with you - you can video me saying hi to him!" you came up with a resolution.

Was it over the top? You didn't know and you didn't care. You're just fleeting with joy by how this girl isn't like any other of your fans.

"Seriously? You'd do that for me and my brother?" she gasped.

"Well, yeah. I mean it's not always that I have such nice interactions with people who are a fan."

"Okay lovebirds what are you two talking about there?" Hanna teased with a smirk and Bill playfully pouted.

"Nothing, nothing" you laughed and held Bill's arm as the crowd laughed and cheered.

"If you say sooo." she replied. "Alright, your turn to pick!"

You carefully looked around the crowd and walked five steps of the stairs to get a better view of the people on the back. A fifteen year old boy was holding a banner stating "Bill's No.1 Boy", it was cute, really. So you planned to steal your boyfriend's fan! (this a joke dont hate reader pls)

"The ginger at the back with the banner please." you said to the mic.

The boy squeeled in delight and threw his banner somewhere before running down to you. Your arms opened for an embrace which he immediately jumped into.

"What's your name?" you put the mic to his mouth as you both carefully went down the stairs and back to the stage.

"Sam, I'm Sam! My name is Sam!" his rather high pitched voice said.

"Okay, Sam. I know you're Bill's fan so I'm gonna have to steal you, that okay?"

"Hey, no fair!" Bill patted the boy's head and shot a smile at him.

This moment for him is definitely a core memory and will brag about it to every living human he sees.

"Now, who wants to go first in the tank?" Hanna asked.

"I'll do it" Bill says excitingly.

They agreed and the staff helped him get up. Once he were seated and adjusted in the circular surface; he challenge you.

"Ask a good one!"

"Ohohoo, we definitely will!" you smirked.

You turn to Sam and ask him without the mics near your faces; "What're you gonna ask your idol?"

"Oh uhmm, I don't really know." he says bashfully.

"Maybe his most embarrassing moment?"

"That'll work, definitely." you smile supportively and fist bumped him.

"Bill, you read?!" Hanna exclaimed.

"Born ready!!"

"Alright Sam, ask away!"

"What's the most embarrassing thing that's happened to you?" Sam asked with twinkles in his eyes.

"Oh, definitely when me and ____ weren't dating yet; she threw a sleepover party and she invited me and my mates, and there were three bathrooms, right? The three were being used and in one of those bathrooms it was Tom using it, and I had to rush him because I really needed to take a shit, like I couldn't hold it any farther!

So he went out really pissed and I pushed him off the door and quickly shut it and went right into business."

Bill paused and tried to compose himself as the crowd started to get louder.

"And when I washed and pushed the flush button - It wouldn't flush! So I got really scared because I just shit in my crush's toilet and I can't let anyone know that I'm the one who did it. So i looked around and saw a pack of pads so I took one of them; and forced myself to dip my hand down to grab it and I almost puked!

I look around and see there's no trash bin. So I panic again, and eventually decided I'll just rush down to throw it in the garbage in her garage. I quickly make a run for it and almost bumped into ___"

He now covered his hands in shame and embarrassment. "And she saw the pad in my hand! So she asked me like, 'Is that a pad?' and I'm like yes and so she asks whose it is...... and I said it's mine....."

You know of this story long ago; and it just gets better and better whenever you think or hear of it.

The audience and interviewer roared with laughter; as well as the staff behind and securities who tried to contain their smiles.

"I wish I never asked!" Sam wiped his tears from laughing too hard.

"Get down here Bill! That was too much!" Hanna's cheeks started to hurt, "Sorry to the viewers who are eating."

Bill went down immediately and squeezed the living life out of you. He does this whenever he's feeling embarrassed or nervous, and calls it his "Physical Support" from you.

"You should've let yourself get thrown in the water!" you giggled and hugged him back before he pulled away with a red face.

"Next goes ____!"

Once you were seated and made yourself comfortable on the seat; you tell them you're ready.

It was Pauline's turn to question whatever she wishes. "____, what do you think of your fans?"

She asks sincerely; she must've noticed something by the way you're like to your fan base and to Bill's. A part of you wished she hadn't asked but you've been dying to let the creepers out there know that whatever they'd been doing to you for a long long time - greatly affects you, especially as a young stat growing up in this sort of industry.

You rarely held any meet and greet, rarely had photos with fans where you look actually comfortable and where they weren't touching your waist or hips or near your ass - and ones where you do look comfortable it was mostly with girls or kids, which was not as often as when you do with the rest; who are pedophiles and creepy boys.

Of course you've always been nice when interacting with them; you didn't want to be rude and only wanted to be kind.

Definitely, there were times when you couldn't take it and couldn't do anything about it - other than cry and complain in your lover's arms.

You're forever thankful to have someone like him; he'd always listen to whatever you say and support everything you do.

Not realising; you zoned out quite a bit and snapped out of it when Bill called out your name with worry that he's trying to mask from everyone.

"Oh-, well, obviously I love them so much, if it weren't for them I wouldn't have succeed this much - of course the people who helped me get up in this industry as well.

I truly do appreciate their love and support, seriously. But quite the number of them are uh, how do I say this." you nervously chuckled as everyone listened intently to the tea you're telling.

"Crossing my boundaries? Yes, uh- that." you say not quite satisfied with the word you chose. It was evident that it's worse than just that but the safest.

"We all know people would cross it by taking unsolicited pictures of you, that's given because you're a celebrity, but are there some other ways they would? If you don't mind me asking of course." Hanna carefully asked.

You smiled softly, "Well a few have stalked me to my house - which I dunno how the hell they did so and took pictures of me and they'd send it to me and tell me how they thought of me. Some leave love letters, flowers, food in front of my gate, sent death threats to my exes when I was dating them and even now to my Bill." you left the worse parts out since you didn't want half of the world to be talking about your most private part of life. What you're even telling them now is a whole lot.

"Wow.. we all knew your fan base could get a bit crazy judging from all the videos we see and the news, but not by this much!" Hanna says empathetically.

"It happens, I guess." you try to laugh it off. However, Bill looked at your hues with his that sent the message of "Are you okay?"

In which yours replied with "I'm not okay."

✮✮✮

The game went on a for it was Pauline's turn to the dunk tank, then Sam's.

You continued your cheery self through the whole taping and told yourself you'll regret what you said later in your dressing room. Bill kept his distance close to you and would caress your hand or shoulder as a sign of support - as well as slipping a "How're you holding up?" every now and then.

If there were billions of ways to show gratitude to this man; you'd do every single one of it to him.

After the agonizing show was over; you and Bill kissed Hanna's cheeks as a goodbye and thank you. To which she said back to you both as well and wished to see you soon.

As you made your way to the dressing room in silence with your fingers intertwined with Bill's; you abruptly stop in your tracks.

"I almost forgot I have to sign a magazine for Pauline!"

Your lover looked confused for a second "What? Why?"

"I kinda promised Pauline I'll just sign a magazine for her brother because she asked me to shout him out while taping." you let a small huff and loosened your grip on your boyfriend's slender hand. "How about I'll see you later in the van? You can wait for me there instead if I haven't been back by five minutes."

Bill smiled, "Of course sweetheart, I'll see you later. Love you." he pecked your lips and lovingly looked into your eyes for a moment before heading to his dressing room.

Quickly; you asked a staff to bring Pauline to your dressing room to give her an autograph - to which they agreed to. Thankfully.

While they did that, you strided to your room and grabbed your magazine and marker - which immediately after doing so, a knock was heard on your door.

You hand held the paper as the other gripped the violet ink marker. When you did, you were greeted by a Pauline smiling widely with a camera on her right hand.

"Hi!" she says excitingly.

You greet back and quickly hugged her, "I see you have a camera with you."

"Oh, yes, uhm.. I was wondering if i can take a video of you signing an autograph? So my brother would believe me that it really is from you." she nervously giggled. "I might or might now have pranked him once by giving him a fake autograph."

"Yeah, sure. What's your brother's name?" you say softly.

"It's Percy." she answers as she readies her camera.

"Alright, is it rolling?" you ask with a smile on your face. Pauline says yes with a grateful smile; grateful for being how considerate and kind you are.

"Hi Paul! So I heard from your sister that you're a fan? Too bad you didn't come with her." you looked behind the camera to Pauline.

"And I heard she gave you a fake autograph of mine? Well now, you're getting a real one, and this is the proof." you say still giggling as you signed the magazine.

"There, and keep the pen. I gotta go now, bye and love you!" you say as you waved goodbye and gave your iconic kiss blow alongside a wink.

Once Pauline returned the camera back to her bag; she immediately thanked you.

"I'm serious - thank you thank you sooo much! And uh.. I'm really sorry if what I asked earlier was too personal. I really am. I was just curious and didn't thoroughly before it slipped my mouth." she noticed the change of the atmosphere long ago. Even if she's just fifteen, she knew how to read the room well.

"Aw, sweetie.. it's nothing." you pat her shoulder, "It's fine I tell ya, also I better get going - you should too, it'll get dark in just two hours. Bye bye and stay safe!" you wave goodbye as she still exclaimed thank you's as she walked backwards towards the exit.

(that footage is definitely gonna go viral after many years)

In a light speed; you gathered your essential belongings and had your personal assistant help you carry your other belongings to the van; to which Bill noticed through the windows that you're carrying back pack and a purse and immediately helped you despite having it under perfect control.

He opened the door for you and let you in first before him and closed the door. Your personal assistant sat in the passenger seat next to the driver, while you and your beloved were at the very back despite the space up front.

You rested your head on his shoulder and he put his above yours while he held your hand with both of his; tracing every outline, massaging it, and kissing it once in a while.

"R'you okay now?" Bill mumbled and kissed your head.

"Yes, hon. I'm great actually.. thanks so much for being there, I love you so much." you turn your head to face his and pecked his lips.

"I love you more than you'll ever know, I'm glad you're okay." he smiled genuinely and kissed you deep and passionate.

You returned to your head's original position and fell to sleep; not caring if tomorrow, you'll be the town's talk.

[yelenabelovasbxtch]

Crush On An Archer PT.1

a/n: Hey! Omg long time no see! I kinda maybe lost interest in writing for a bit there but tbh I think I'm back. No promises because I don't want to promise and then break your hearts but also I realllyyyy enjoyed writing this and I hope you all enjoy reading it! Will def be making a part two in coming days so stay tuned. LMK if you want to be added to the taglist, I am going to put some tags of past taglists below just in case they are interested in reading :) ALSO! Special shout out to @scmg11 because their writing is honestly what made me wanna get back into it. So,,I hope you enjoy!

Kate X Fem!Reader

Concept: Reader has a crush on Kate (school/Uni setting) and she doesn't know how to tell her.

Warning: Cussing, mentions of smut, IM TRYING TO WRITE SLOW BURN BUT BEAR WITH ME ITS NEW!

Word Count: 2.7k

You’re a month into your summer vacation and things couldn’t be more…boring. You love and appreciate your parents dearly for putting out the money so that you could attend a prestigious school in New York with a kick ass archery team but does it ever suck to be this far from all your friends for four months. To make the situation work, your dad had to transfer jobs to another state that pulls in a little more money annually with slightly more affordable housing but that means you aren’t even near the people you grew up around. Rural Mississippi is a fairly big step from living in Boston. Boston at least had people, out here it’s like you’re lucky if you get to meet a neighbour because the land has us all so far apart. In all honesty, although it’s boring, you really have one specific reason for being so bummed out. Towards the end of your last semester, you got started getting closer with one of the girls a year younger on your team, Kate. Typically the older girls competed and practised together and the younger girls did the same. Although you two were only a year apart it’s just how things worked out, so you didn’t cross paths very often. However, one day you were walking home from class, stopped to get coffee and basically bumped into her. The meeting was really brief but it was enough to make you catch feelings almost instantly. 

Your interest in her grew as you followed her on Instagram and she followed back. Obviously you took a peak at her page and scrolled to the bottom laughing at the really cringey posts from 2015 she had still up. All you wanted to do was talk to her again but you didn’t know how, although she was a year younger than you she intimidated you so much. Her deep blue eyes were honestly enough to make you stutter whenever you had the chance to talk to her. A month had gone by already and you could not wait to get back to school so you could see her again. Luckily, coach has yearly “team-building” days before the season starts and they’re about half way through the summer so hopefully you can talk to her before then and maybe convince her to hang out when you come back to school. 

Over the next week or so you liked a few story posts that she’d upload every now and again but the day finally came where you felt like you could swipe up and respond to it…y’know…maybe spark a little conversation. 

“Damn Bishop, is this a new bow?” In response to a story post of her showing off some of her off season training. 

“Haha yeah it is, flips out and everything…it's really freakin’ cool.” She replied almost instantly and that made a giant warm smile come across your face. 

Shit– what do you say back? Your main goal was honestly to keep the convo going so you could subtly mention down the line hanging out with her. 

“Yeah that’s sick, wow I’d kill to try something like that out.”

“Well next time I see you, please by all means give it a shot” She replies back.

“Might just have to take you up on that. How’s your summer going anyways?”

“It’s alright, kind of boring though. All my friends from school move back home and I am working for my mom’s company over the summer so it all is just kind of dull. I miss going out and having fun. Wbu?”

“Yeah, I hear that. I am SO bored here. I would kill to fast forward to the fall, I miss being at school honestly. There’s only so much I can do by myself here during the summer.”

“Ugh right! I want it to be school again too but don’t get me wrong, I love the summer, the weather is great here recently and the nightlife is amazing too. I just have nobody to go with, you know.”

“Yeah I get it. Trust me, if I could be there to go out with you I would, there is definitely no nightlife here haha.”

Shit. That wasn’t too forward was it? She is taking a while to respond to you. She hasn’t even opened the message yet. 

*4 minutes later*

“Well, you’re going to be around for that team-building thing coach has us doing in a couple of weeks right?”

“Yeah, I should be.”

“Well, we can go out then if you want? Me and a few friends had plans but they’re all on the team and I’m sure they’d love to have you there too.”

“Yeah, that sounds great I’d love to!”

The conversation pretty much ended there and your contact with her was fairly limited, just a small comment here or there until you finally got to fly back to school for summer training. You settle back into the apartment you left a couple months ago, everything is still a mess where you left it but the kitchen and living room are even filthier since you are not around to clean up much after your roommates. You decided to wait until your team practice to talk to Kate about hanging out again. You didn’t want to come on too strong but also a small part of you feels like she forgot what she said months ago and you won’t end up seeing her, not outside of team stuff at least. 

You grabbed your gear and headed to the field where practice was being held. You saw some of your friends from last year and decided to catch up with them before coach pulled you all in to start practice. You were trying your best not to make it obvious but your eyes were tracking all around you looking for Kate but she was nowhere to be seen. 

*Whistle* “Okay team! Let’s bring it in. First, I just want to say thank you to everyone for making the effort to come back to campus for this, meeting I–”

“SORRY SORRY SORRY!” You hear the coach interrupted as footsteps are fast approaching the circle of archers. 

“Hi Kate.” Says coach.

“I am SO sorry. My driver was running late and then there was traffic because of a giant accident, I think there was some battle in the streets again, I don’t know, either way, my bad coach, won’t happen again…I promise.” She says with the most adorable grin that is absolutely saying she will be late again. 

“It’s alright Kate, it happens, I was just telling the team how thankful I am that everyone could make the trip back to campus for this.” Coach went on to talk about the drills you were doing for the day and man was it hard to not be in awe watching her. You tried your best not to stare all day because the last thing you wanted to do was make it obvious but fuck it felt impossible. The day came to an end and you packed up your gear, Kate was talking with the other seniors on the team as they were gathering their things and started to head out. You could feel your window closing to talk to her but interrupting her conversation with her friends and “inviting” yourself out with them just felt too weird and uncomfortable. If it wasn’t meant to be then it wasn’t meant to be but you would kill to be able to just spend an hour with her. 

You watched as she started to walk away towards the parking lot with her friends when all of a sudden she motioned for them to hold on a minute and she turned around and jogged over to you. 

“Hey y/n! Sorry we didn’t get to catch up much during practice, I saw your shooting though it’s looking good.” 

Yeah…your face is bright red. Control your shit. 

“Anyways, me and a couple friends are going out later tonight to a party that one of their friends is hosting. It’s like a Hawaiian beach summer nights themed type of party so if you have something like that to wear, that would be great.”

“Yeah, I might have something, I’ll take a look when I get home.” 

“Cool! I’ll text you the address once I get it off my friend and I’ll see you there?”

“Yeah, sounds good!” 

“Here, why don’t you put your number into my phone, I don’t like using DM’s that much.”

You take Kate’s phone out of her hand and fill out a contact for yourself, praying that she can’t hear your heart beating out of your chest. 

“Cool, thanks, I’ll send you a text in a bit.” She says with a smile and then runs off to re-join her friends. 

It seems silly sitting by your phone and literally watching the minutes tick by waiting for her to text you but that’s all  you could do. The anticipation felt like it was killing you. 

Your phone finally buzzed with a mystery number attached, “Hey y/n! It’s Kate. So…slight change of plans.”

Fuck. Is she bailing? Your eyes were glued on the three dots as she typed and you watched as they disappeared and reappeared. 

“Turns out the party is actually around the corner from my place so if you wanted to just come here first, we could pre-game and shit and then walk over together? My friends said they were going out to get their hair done so they’ll be running late.”

“Hey Kate, yeah no problem that works for me just send me your address and lmk what time you want me there.”

Kate dropped a pin of her location to you with the text attached telling you to come over at 7pm. 

7pm rolled around and you were already there outside but you kind of felt like you should wait another minute or two so you weren’t RIGHT on time. Or is it weird to be a minute late? But wouldn’t being on time be weirder? Whatever, you decided to just wait a minute and then knock on her door. 

Knocking on her door was the most nerve wracking thing you ever did, you were genuinely shitting bricks. 

“HEY! Come in come in!” Kate eagerly yells at you as she swings the door open. She’s wearing shorts with a bright purple bikini top and a button down Hawaiian shirt over top that doesn’t have a single button done up. Are you starring? Yes. Probably? Absolutely you are. 

“Make yourself at home, feel free to grab a drink from the fridge, my roommates are out of town and left all their alcohol so help yourself.” She said with a laugh. 

You heard that right? Her roommates are out of town. Just the two of you…you never know. 

You grabbed a drink from the fridge and took a seat on the couch next to her and yeah…the drink started going down faster than usual because of all the nerves in your stomach. The two of you made small talk for awhile but the conversation started flowing a little more naturally about 2 drinks in. Were you still kind of awkward as hell? Yeah…a little. But at least you warmed up to her a bit and weren’t acting so weird. About an hour later, her friends showed up and grabbed you guys to head over to the party. Honestly, things were going so well with just the two of you that you didn’t even want to go to this party but if it meant you got to spend more time with her then there you were. You got to the party and you honestly knew practically nobody. You weren’t exactly a social butterfly but Kate clearly was. She was talking to EVERYBODY. The boys at the party especially loved her. There was lots of laughing and flirting going on, you could feel the jealousy building but acting out was definitely not an option. You ended up socialising with a few of the other people at the party but for most of the night you stuck by Kate’s side, the two of you got pretty drunk together, pouring shots for one another and dancing in the pit of people to extremely loud music. There was a point where it felt like it was just you and her and nobody else was there while the music was blasting into your ears and the two of you were jumping together to the beat and singing out the lyrics to whatever song was on at the time. Kate got really close to you until some guy would come and pull her away in an attempt to make a move on her. Although, it never actually happened. Kate always ended up finding her way back to you. At one point she grabbed your hand and pulled you into the middle of the crowd as the two of you sang (screamed) the lyrics to “love story” into each other's faces. The party, as all do, started to simmer down. You guys actually ended up being some of the last people at the party, you stuck around to the point where the music was gone and most people were just sitting around chatting halfway sober. 

“Hey, I think I’m going to go home, I am super tired right now.” Kate says to you. 

“Okay, I’ll walk with you, I left my bag at your place anyways so I have to grab it.” 

“Right, sounds good.” 

Although the two of you had been singing and dancing for hours, she looked just as perfect as when you left and you were trying your hardest not to stare at her while the two of you were walking side-by-side. 

The walk back to her place was pretty quick, when the two of you got inside you went to grab your bag and get your things together. You were desperately trying to figure out what to say to her while you were organising your stuff. You didn’t want to come on too strong but you also want to make sure that she knows you had a good time…I guess just tell her exactly that?

“I had a really good time tonight, thanks again for inviting me.” You say as you’re leaning against the wall in her hallway. 

“Of course, anytime. And I did too. We should really hang out more when we come back to school.” She replies. 

Kate walks towards you and stops about a foot away leaning up against the doorframe to her bedroom. The hallway is super narrow and all you can think about is pinning her against the wall while you kiss down her neck and pull her tight by her waist. 

“Yeah I think so too. I guess I should probably head out.” You say as she looks at you with the softest eyes that you swore said “please stay”. You lingered for a second longer as the two of you were looking at each other, tired, kind of tipsy and on the verge of ripping each other's clothing off. All you wanted was for her to actually ask you to stay a little longer but before she had the chance you were already walking towards the door. 

“Have a good night y/n.” She says. “Text me when you get home safe.”

“I will. Sleep well Kate.” You reply as you turn to look at her with a smile and step out the front door. 

That goodbye felt different. It felt like there were still feelings in the air and lots that wanted to be said that wasn't. It felt like the perfect opportunity with nobody around after an amazing night together has passed but you regret none of it. Although you weren’t able to get a confirmation on whether or not Kate even likes women like you do, you knew there was definitely a type of tension between the two of you that she definitely noticed.

-- END OF PT 1 --

Taglist: @yelenaslyubov @youreatotalposer @jeyramarie @flosbelova @bridgecitybrad @justthis-stuff @chloe7076 @ailenepuff @ravenclawbitch426 @mellowladyangel @amcg0605-blog @kassies-take @yelenaswife1996 @wandanatchick @lilroachsworld @inluvwithfictionalwomen @x666hours @natashaswife4125 @onetruwhore @karmasgxrl @hopelesslyfallenninlove @setsuna1415 @swiftdazer @imobsessedwithmilfss @madamevirgo @louisprettybab @splatalia-jumpanova @jediluka @t00manyfand0ms

[coco-bean-1218]

Well-Behaved Women Never Make History

Chapter One: Something In The Way

Chapter Soundtrack

Summary: Claire leaves her home and starts her journey to Camp Toccoa.

A/N: Hello, everyone!! Welcome to Chapter One of Well-Behaved Women Never Make History! I am very excited to finally start this story and share it with all of you! I hope you enjoy and feel free to like, comment, and reblog!

Warnings: Swearing, period-typical behavior

Taglist: @whollyjoly @footprintsinthesxnd @panzershrike-pretz @xxluckystrike

Credits: Moodboard 1 made by @xxluckystrike Moodboard 2 made by @footprintsinthesxnd Thank you both so much!!!

June, 1942 Detroit, Michigan 10 a.m. Eastern Time ---

Detroit's Union Station was a bustling hub of wartime activity, its vast halls echoing with the hurried footsteps of soldiers and civilians alike. The morning sun streamed through the tall windows, casting long shadows over the faces of families clustered around their loved ones. Amidst them stood Claire O'Connor, surrounded by an imposing fortress of luggage, her dark brown hair pulled back into victory rolls, dark red lipstick painted on her lips, her stoic expression betraying none of the apprehension swirling inside her. 

"Damn, Claire, are you planning to open a boutique down there?" Emma, her older sister, teased, one hand affectionately resting on her sister's shoulder while her eyes danced with mirth at the sight of the luggage.

Claire offered a wry smile, pushing up her glasses with a finger. "Hey, you know me, I'm always prepared," she quipped, the edge of her humor tinged with nerves. "You can never have too many pairs of underwear."

Their father, Mr. O'Connor, chuckled, adjusting his glasses with a patient smile. "War or no war, I don't think the enemy will care much for your matching luggage set."

"Ha-ha, very funny, Dad," Claire retorted, a tight smile betraying her simmering nerves. Peyton stood beside Claire, a single duffel bag slung over her shoulder, her posture composed—a sharp contrast to Claire's cluttered state.

Mrs. O'Connor, Claire and Emma's mother, clucked her tongue as she adjusted one of the smaller bags atop a mountainous suitcase. "You've got enough to last through the war and back, honey bee," she said, her voice equal parts exasperation and concern. "Remember, you're going to be a medic, not a debutante."

"I know, Mom. It's just—" Claire hesitated, biting her lip. "It feels like I'm packing up my entire world."

"Because you are," Peyton interjected softly, coming to stand beside Claire. Her own belongings were neatly consolidated into her single bag, the stark contrast between the friends' preparations mirroring their differing paths. Peyton's mom stood a few feet away, her pride battling the sorrow in her eyes.

"First time for everything, right?" Claire continued, her attempt at levity falling flat in her own ears. Her gaze shifted between the faces of her family and Peyton, trying to memorize them before the journey ahead.

"Exactly. It's an adventure, Claire," Peyton replied, reaching out to give Claire's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Just think of the stories we'll have to share."

"Right," Claire forced a chuckle. "Yours will probably be publishable. Mine will be too bloody to print."

"Your sense of humor is as dark as ever," Peyton replied.

The arrival of Peyton's train sliced through the air, the shrill whistle echoing off the station walls. The machine billowed steam like a specter of change, heralding the imminent departure. Everyone's attention turned to the locomotive, its metallic body gleaming beneath the Michigan sun.

"Train for Des Moines now boarding!" the announcement cut through their conversation with the sharpness of a knife. 

"Guess that's my cue," Peyton said, her usual grace faltering just a bit. 

"Promise me you'll write?" Claire's voice was steady, but her brown eyes betrayed her anxiety. 

"Every chance I get," Peyton promised, pulling Claire into a fierce hug. "And don't go falling for any charming soldiers without telling me first."

"Who, me?" Claire managed a smirk. "Charm isn't exactly my Achilles' heel, you know that."

"I know, but stranger things have happened," Peyton said with a knowing look. "Just promise me you won't shut yourself off from the possibility of love."

"Oh, I'll keep an eye out for any dashing heroes trying to sweep me off my feet," Claire replied dryly. "But don't hold your breath."

With a final squeeze, Peyton released her friend and turned to her mother, enveloping her in a long hug before stepping back with a brave nod. 

"Go get 'em, journalist!" Claire called after her, her teasing tone belying the tightness in her chest.

Peyton turned at the steps of the train, grinning broadly. "Wait for my bylines, Claire! They'll be front page before you know it!"

As Peyton disappeared into the train, Claire watched the doors slide shut, her heart sinking with the finality of the moment. A lump formed in her throat as she waved goodbye to Peyton, her best friend whom she had known since childhood. The train let out a low rumble, lurching into motion, gradually picking up speed and pulling away from the platform.

"Godspeed, Peyton Nelson," Claire whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

Nearly an hour later, the shrill whistle of Claire's train tore through the lingering silence, signaling the impending departure and severing the last tenuous threads tethering her to home. Her family clustered around her like a protective shroud, their faces etched with pride and worry.

"Here it is," her father said, his voice thick with unspoken emotions.

"Looks like it," Claire agreed, hoisting her suitcase with a grunt. Her hands trembled slightly, the weight of her decision settling on her shoulders along with the overstuffed leather.

"Train for Atlanta now boarding," the conductor called out, his voice a steady beacon amidst the clamor.

"Remember to keep your head down and help others do the same," her father said, "And look out for yourself."

"Can't make any promises," Claire quipped, "But I'll do what I can."

"Let's just hope the Army's ready for you," Mrs. O'Connor added, a twinkle in her eye that mirrored Claire's own spark of defiance. "They won't know what hit 'em!" Her embrace was tight, a desperate attempt to imprint the feeling of her daughter onto her very soul. 

"I'll write every single day until you're sick of me!" Claire promised, offering a watery smile. "And when I come back, maybe I'll have a dashing paratrooper to introduce to you. Wouldn't that be something?"

Mrs. O'Connor winked at her daughter, “A fiery girl like you rarely returns with just tales of heroism and bravery. You're bound to turn a few heads, I'm sure of it!"

Laughter bubbled up from Emma, cutting through the tension like a lifeline thrown across turbulent waters. "Oh, brother, that poor man!" her sister said, hugging her tightly.

Her dad chuckled, the lines around his eyes deepening. "Just make sure he knows how to handle a fearless woman." 

"And don't let those men step all over you," her mother added in a firm tone, "You know what I say, 'Men ain't shit,' except for your father, of course."

"You know me, I don't like toxic masculinity," Claire replied with a smirk.

As the conductor's voice reverberated through the station once more, signaling the imminent departure of Claire's train, she picked up her mountain of baggage and stepped onto the platform. Claire climbed the steps of the train but paused at the top to cast a final glance at her loved ones. "Bye! Wish me luck!" she called out.

With a deep breath that did little to steady her heart, she entered the train. Claire made her way down the narrow aisle, finding a seat by the window in the last car, where the world could unfurl before her like a map of possibilities. As the vehicle jerked forward, she pressed her palm against the glass, maintaining eye contact with her parents and Peyton's mother until the station was nothing but a speck in the distance.

She settled into the rhythm of the rails, the clack-clack of wheels turning over tracks like a metronome counting down to her new reality. The heat was oppressive air thickening in the cramped space, sticking her blouse to her back and making her glasses slide down her nose. 

As the landscape outside blurred into a collage of greens and browns, Claire pulled out "The Great Gatsby" from her bag. She immersed herself in the opulent tragedy of Gatsby's world, finding a strange comfort in the characters' doomed pursuits. "I always thought of myself as Gatsby and Noah as Daisy." she thought to herself, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. 

Hours melded together, marked only by the rhythmic sway of the train and the occasional jostle of fellow passengers. When the heat became too oppressive, she switched to Freud, his theories a stark contrast to Gatsby's opulence and glittering disillusionment. "Id, ego, and superego," she mused aloud, her voice lost in the clatter of the train. "Which one got me into this mess? Freud would have a field day with me."

As dusk began to paint the sky with strokes of burnt orange and dusky violet, Claire pulled out a sheet of paper and began a letter to her mom. Her pen hovered above the page before it skated across, detailing the mundane aspects of her journey—never hinting at the undercurrent of fear that gnawed at her insides. "Dear Mom," she wrote, "the scenery is beautiful, although it's hard to appreciate fully when you're being slowly roasted."

Her hand hesitated, hovering above the paper as memories of Noah surfaced unbidden. Claire reached into her handbag and retrieved a photograph. It showed her and Noah, side by side, innocent smiles frozen in time under the banner of their high school graduation. Their graduation gowns billowed like hopeful sails, caps thrown mid-air, smiles wide and oblivious to the future. "Oh, Noah," she whispered, tracing the outline of his face. "Always fixing things, but never saw what was broken." 

Her fingers traced the lines of his face, the awkward angle of his glasses—a mirror image of her own. She wondered where he was at this exact moment, if the sea was kind to him, or if the churn of the engine lulled him to sleep each night. "Be safe," she whispered into the fading light, her lips brushing against the cool surface of the picture. The train carried her onward, through the dusk and into a future as uncertain as the war itself.

The night stretched before her, each mile a note in a song of departure and anticipation. Claire leaned her head against the window, watching towns and fields blur by, while inside, her heart beat a staccato rhythm of longing and fear—an intricate dance of the times.

As the morning sun pierced through the curtains, bathing the train compartment in a soft golden glow, Claire stirred awake, her cheek imprinted with the pattern of the window's glass. She blinked groggily as she stood up and reached for her luggage to retrieve a fresh outfit from her suitcase. 

Stepping into the narrow hallway of the train car, Claire made her way towards the washroom at the end. The rocking motion of the train beneath her feet quickened her pace, her hand steadying on the metal railing that lined the corridor. 

She reached the washroom door and gave it a gentle push, stepping inside and locking it behind her. The tiny room was a welcome refuge from the constant movement of the train. Claire changed into her fresh clothes — a burnt orange and white striped blouse and matching orange skirt that billowed softly around her knees — and stuffed yesterday’s clothing into a laundry bag. 

As she adjusted the collar of her blouse, the train lurched unexpectedly, causing her to stumble mid-button. Catching herself on the sink, she cursed under her breath and quickly finished dressing. 

With her heart still hammering in her chest from the sudden movement, Claire took a moment to collect herself before unlocking the door and stepping back into the hallway. 

Upon reaching her seat, the conductor’s voice echoed through the car, announcing their arrival in Atlanta. Claire collected her books and the letter to her mother, tucking them into her bag next to Noah's photograph. With a hefty sigh, she hoisted her bags—one, two, three—onto her shoulders and hips, a cumbersome dance that drew snickers from a couple of soldiers nearby. Atlanta, the city humming with the war effort and Southern charm, sprawled out before her, daunting in its vastness.

The stifling heat of Georgia smothered Claire the moment she stepped off the train, a harsh welcome to the South. She maneuvered through the bustling station, dragging her excessive luggage behind her, the clicking of her heels lost in the shuffle of footsteps and the murmur of countless conversations. 

The bus was already rumbling when Claire approached it, and as she climbed aboard, she felt every eye bore into her. She was a curiosity— a woman unaccompanied by a man among rows of young soldiers whose lives were set on a wartime metronome.

"Camp Toccoa," she said firmly to the bus driver, who raised an eyebrow but handed her the ticket without comment.

"Hey, doll, you boarding with all that?" one of the soldiers called out, nodding towards her luggage pile.

"Unless you see it sprouting legs and walking itself on, yes," Claire retorted, her voice edged with the wit she wielded like armor.

Another soldier piped up, "What's your story? Headed to entertain the troops?"

"Medic training," she clipped, pushing her glasses up her nose with a stubborn tilt of her chin. "I'll be patching up your sorry asses on the battlefield. Consider yourselves lucky."

Murmurs rippled through the bus as she maneuvered to an empty seat at the back, her bags wedged between her and the aisle. The curious glances didn't cease, though they became more surreptitious. Claire could feel the weight of their stares, the silent question marks punctuating the air around her. 

"Never seen a dame wanting to be in the thick of it," a soldier across the aisle muttered to his neighbor. "She's got guts, I'll give her that."

"Or she's crazy," the other replied, not unkindly.

"Both," Claire interjected before she could stop herself, eliciting a few chuckles. It was an odd sensation, this camaraderie laced with isolation. She hunkered down in her seat, pulling out her unfinished letter to her mom, and tried to resume writing, but the words seemed frivolous now, floating aimlessly on the page. Instead, she tucked the letter away, leaning her forehead against the cool window glass, allowing her thoughts to drift.

"Hey, combat medic," the same soldier ventured again after a few moments, "You got a fella waiting for you back home?"

Claire answered, staring blankly at the seat in front of her, "Nope."

The soldier whistled low. "Well, that's a damn shame. A pretty gal like you, brave enough to sign up for this mess," he said, gesturing to the bus full of soldiers. "There must be plenty of fellas fighting over you back there."

Claire chuckled bitterly. "Fighting over me? More like running in the opposite direction," she replied, a self-deprecating smile tugging at her lips. 

The soldier's eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and disbelief. "Nah, I can't believe that. A dame like you? Trust me, there ain't a fella worth his salt who wouldn't be lining up for a chance with you."

Claire sighed, her eyes fixed on the soldier's earnest expression. "Well, I guess they must have missed the memo," she retorted with a forced chuckle.

"I'm Danny, by the way," the soldier said, extending his hand towards Claire.

"Claire," she replied, shaking his hand. 

Danny had thick, dark hair and eyebrows, deep brown eyes, and a slight stubble showing he had recently shaved. He was handsome, no doubt about it.

"You said you're gonna be a combat medic, right?" Danny asked, genuine curiosity in his eyes. "At Camp Toccoa, if I heard you correctly. Ain't that where the paratroopers train?"

Claire nodded, a glimmer of defiance in her eyes. "Yeah, that's right. We'll be jumping out of perfectly good planes."

Danny whistled, impressed. "Well, I'll be damned. I could never. I'd crash land, splattering my guts everywhere like a burst tomato."

Claire laughed, "Thanks for the visual. I'll think of that as I plummet to my death."

When the bus finally came to a halt, the driver's voice announced, "Camp Toccoa, final stop!"

Claire stood and wrestled with her suitcases once more. Danny offered to help, but she politely declined. With a determined stride, she walked down the narrow aisleway towards the steps. 

"Good luck, Miss Medic!" Danny called out.

"Yeah, you too, Dollface," she teased with a wink. With a final heave, she managed to walk down the steps of the bus into the sweltering heat. 

"Watcha thinkin', Danny?" his companion next to him asked.

Danny grinned, shaking his head, “Nothin’ much," he replied, his gaze set on Claire as she stood outside the entrance to the camp.

The camp sprawled before Claire, a collection of low-lying buildings nestled amidst the dense Georgia forest. Stepping onto the dirt road, she was greeted by the stark white letters on the wooden sign: 'Camp Toccoa.'

She stood there, alone now, the dust settling around her feet. Before her lay a path lined with uncertainty, with courage demanded and comfort stripped away. To enter meant embracing her choice fully, to become part of something far greater than herself. 

---

[strywoven]

as promised , here is my four week ( + a day ) check-in with the dash ; a little newsletter for everyone , if you will. for those who are unaware , i typically write one of these quarterly round-up posts during my term just to yap about things that happened whilst i was away ( as much as to remind everyone i'm not dead or to throw out any updates as necessary ) . anyways ...

seeing as it's just the start of the term , nothing is really happening. not unless you want me to discuss the several term papers , presentations , and psuedo-diagnostics i have to complete -- but !! there are some things.

i'm very vocal about being a psych major , and this was the year i bought a DSM-5-TR. many people will go nutso-bonkers over ACOTAR or other books , but i ... i lost my mind opening a thousand-page manual of diagnostic material for mental illness ( not a joke , i actually bragged about it to several people ) . owning this book , for someone who intends to go into clinical , is the HOLY GRAIL ; i cannot express to you the immense joy i get every time i open it for class and we read another section.

being in psychopathology as a class ( very thrilling stuff , trust me ) , i actually said in the midst of class , "no , no , we don't discriminate , we just diagnose." straight face , no inflection -- my professor , also an incredibly serious woman , actually gawped at me and LAUGHED . biggest point of approval from such a character i'll ever get , lemme tell you , brother.

for those who remember that i took a morality course last term , i actually ran into my professor ... ALMOST LITERALLY . nearly bumped right into the poor man scurrying to class. we spiderman pointed at each other with the whole , "you!" , "you!" happening. it was wonderful ; i love that guy.

i made a friend ; and i don't say that often because i'm very reclusive and quiet. i have two classes with her and she's very nice , a good compliment to my introversion. we spoke for a long time and she goes , "mav , gimme your insta !" and i , "do i seem like the kinda' guy with an insta ?" and she , "... you're a guy ?" to which my brain made a dial-up tone and i , "i mean- what are any of us , really ?" and she laughed. another win for me. problem : I DO NOT KNOW HER NAME . it's been 4 weeks and several classes and one long conversation and i only recognize her as , 'the loud girl with starbucks'. i know , i know , this is bad -- but don't worry , i've got a plan ( i don't ) .

as for the state of the blog ? well ... i know i tend to become negative about it when i'm in-term so. frankly , i'm not going to force it / worry about it , otherwise i know i will get even more icky and filled with self-doubt ( if that makes sense ) . so ... no replies , as you know , but ... please feel free to reach out for plotting !! i love talking to people while i work !!

[prpfz]

Hello there!

(I) About Me

1. I’m 18+

2. Pronouns are he/him/they/them

3. I typically post at least once every other day but I could certainly get a few posts out during a single day depending on how busy I am! I’m almost always around for OOC though!

4. The length of my writing fluctuates but I prefer to write on the lengthier side. 500-750 words is the average I try to go for.

5. I write in the third person.

6. I LOVE to gush about characters, send boards, songs, I love to just get very invested!

7. If there is anything else you’d like to know, don’t hesitate to ask!

(II) Rules

1. Please only contact me if you are 18+.

2. Characters used must also be at least 18. If not, they must be aged up.

3. Please be engaged in the discussing process. If you don't show much interest before the roleplay begins, I will believe that you don't have much interest to the roleplay itself.

4. Please write with proper grammar and pronunciation in your posts. I don't mind if that is not shown in regular messages but please come with it for the thread.

5. No one-liners. I personally don't like to write less than 3 full paragraphs and one-liners do not provide me much to work with. However, I do give the option for mini roleplays to go along with our main roleplay to help expand the world. For that, I am perfectly fine with shorter responses like one-liners. I love writing and I figured this would be a fun way to do that and further along the story!

6. Please post consistently. If replies are inconsistent, sadly my interest in the roleplay wavers. I prefer more frequent posts but if you let me know that you only post once a week, or even once a month, that is perfectly fine with me!

7. I prefer to write on discord servers as that allows everything to be more organized BUT if you prefer to write somewhere else, I do not mind writing threads there. However, I do request a place where we could have things be organized.

(I promise I'm not going to be stern when we talk! I'm very easygoing!)

(III) Fandoms

If a character is below the age of 18, they WILL be aged up to at least 18.

Dragonball Z/Super

Who I'm looking for: Android 18, Android 21

Who I can play: OC. Krillin, Vegeta, Goku, Gohan

Pairing(s) I'm hoping to write: OC x Android 18, OC x Android 21, Krillin x Android 18, Vegeta x Android 18

Metroid

Who I'm looking for: Samus

Who I can play: OC

Pairing(s) I'm hoping to write: OC x Samus

Naruto

Who I'm looking for: Sakura, Ino, Temari

Who I can play: OC, Naruto, Shikamaru, Sasuke, Kakashi, Itachi, Neji

Pairing(s) I'm hoping to write: OC x Sakura, OC x Ino, Naruto x Sakura, Shikamaru x Temari

Pokemon

Who I'm looking for: Cynthia, Protagonist CC/OC

Who I can play: OC, Protagonist CC/OC

Pairing(s) I'm hoping to write: OC x Cynthia, Protagonist CC x Protagonist CC, Protagonist OC x Protagonist CC, Protagonist OC x Protagonist OC

Stranger Things

Who I'm looking for: Eleven

Who I can play: OC, Hopper, Mike, Dustin, Lucas, Will, Jonathan, Steve, Billy, Nancy, Robin

Pairing(s) I'm hoping to write: OC x Eleven, Hopper & Eleven(STRICTLY PLATONIC)

Teen Titans

Who I'm looking for: Starfire(DCAMU)

Who I can play: Nightwing(DCAMU), Batman, Superman, Flash. OC

Pairing(s) I'm hoping to write: Nightwing x Starfire

The Legend of Zelda (Please have a knowledge of most of the games/story)

Who I'm looking for: Zelda

Who I can play: Link

Pairing(s) I'm hoping to write: Link x Zelda

Yu-Gi-Oh

Who I'm looking for: Akiza, Alexis

Who I can play: OC, Jaden, Chazz, Zane, Yusei

Pairing(s) I'm hoping to write: OC x Akiza, OC x Alexis, Jaden x Alexis, Chazz x Alexis

(IV) Goodbye

Thank you for taking time out of your day to read through this! I'm excited to hear from any and all potential partners! If any part of this had interested you, please go ahead and interact with this post! I hope you all have a wonderful day! Happy Writing!

✨

give a like and anon will get back to you

[lcftyambiticons-archive]

RULES.

GNEREAL

25+ ONLY. This blog is written by an adult for other adults, so please act accordingly.

I'm careful about how I curate my online space. The block button and I are besties. Muns who engange in OOC drama, OOC bigotry and LGBTQA+ phobia of any kind, callout posts, OOC political discourse will be blocked on sight. I also tend to steer clear of writers who have lots of DNIs or triggers.

This blog is anti-censorship. Fiction =/= reality. If you don't like someone's content, block them. Protecting your online space is a mature thing to do, and I promise I'll 100% support that. What's NOT okay is trying to police adults on what to write on their blogs (go touch some grass).

Triggers you may encounter on this blog: violence, murder, abuse, gore, monsters, gaslighting, manipulation, cults, canon-typical fantasy racism and overall offensive / problematic themes. Triggers won't always be tagged. If you're triggered by any of these, this blog isn't for you. I love angst and exploring dark content!! If you have any triggers, let me know.

Communication is key! <3 Writing is so much more fun if the muns get along. I promise, I don't bite!!

INTERACTION

This is a private blog simply because I can't spread myself too thin. I'm particularly selective when it comes to mumu-blogs featuring muses from fandoms outside the DnD / BG3 verse. If I follow you, I have read your rules and want to interact! Don't be shy <3 I will also assume that if you follow me back, you're fine with me sending you memes / tagging you in starters / sliding into your IMs to plot.

Personals are welcome to follow, but no touchy my RP stuff.

If you're a RP blog, I'd love it if you follow with the intention of interacting. Also, if you followed me first, I'd appreciate it if you reached out first to start things off — I'll do my best to do the same! I feel like this approach makes it easier to get interactions going.

If we're not mutuals: You're welcome to send headcanon and plot-idea asks! If I can take on another thread, I'll let you know. <3

Formatting: For accessibility reasons, I won't follow if you use spaced out words and punctuation, all caps or all lowercase (for entire paragraphs).

MEMES. YES! If you want to continue a meme, go right ahead!

Plotting: Hmu with a plot idea anytime! I'm not a fan of plotting out every detail, but Lorroakan is a particularly uncooperative muse. Having a general idea of where we want this to go really helps to keep the ball rolling, even if we end up going in a different direction!

SHIPPING / RELATIONSHIPS

This blog is multiship, male lean. Fair warning; Lorroakan isn't particularly interested in romance or sex, and he's a prick. I'm open to shipping, BUT ships will most likely be toxic / one-sided, particularly with Rolan (with the potential to develop into something wholesome over time!), and slow burn. By slow I mean glacial. In most cases, at least.

I won't write smut on the dash. The steamy stuff will be moved to discord or IMs.

Pre-established relationships: Yes. While first meeting or "they have been business partners" threads can be fun, they often take a while to get juicy, or they end up fizzling out. What if your muse was Lorroakan's childhood bestie? Another (former?) apprentice? A fellow scholar of the arcane he used to work with? An ex?

MUN NOTES

Mun =/= Muse, I obviously don't condone any of Lorroakan's bs IRL. While I will absolutely respect your boundaries OOC (if you talk to me beforehand about them, pretty please with a cherry on top), I won't water him down.

I have the memory of a soggy pickle. If you don't want me to interact with you, hard-block.

Activity: Sometimes I'll reply super fast, sometimes it takes me ages, and sometimes I can only focus on specific threads / muses.

Discord is available for moots I interact with frequently.

They / Them, hatched 1995, dog parent, hyperfixating on problematic villains, D&D player.

[fitrahgolden]

WEARY MEMORY: 5 - EVERY NIGHT BY THE BED

“To another successful Sharma-Bridgerton birthday bash.”

Kate and Anthony clinked beer bottles as they laid on her living room floor, propped up by pillows they'd pulled down from the couch.

Anthony took a sip before saying, “Yeah. He genuinely seemed to enjoy it, didn't he?”

“You're surprised?” Kate raised an eyebrow as she took a bite of leftover cake.

“I mean, it's what he asked for, but he's turning fourteen. I would think the, you know, typical balloons and birthday cake and games and all that with his family wouldn't hold that much appeal anymore.”

“Ah,” Kate laughed. “I think he asked for a traditional party for his siblings. Such a sweetheart. He’ll get to do something cool when he goes out with his friends tomorrow.”

“Ah.”

They sat in silence for a while. “Do you think they feel cheated out of what’s supposed to be a perk of being children of divorce?” Anthony mused.

“And what is that?”

“Two of everything. Two birthdays, two of every holiday. Just…double the stuff.”

“Oh, that. I wonder how common that actually is. Either way, no, I genuinely think they love that we still celebrate everything together.” Kate then added, a bit shyly, “So do I.”

“Hey, I do l, too,” Anthony assured her. “Definitely.”

“Yeah, you seemed to be enjoying yourself.” Kate nudged him with her shoulder.

“Oh, I did. I just… I love when everyone's together, all the grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins. I was afraid that when… Well, I'm just really happy the kids can still have that. That the five of us can still have that.”

There was a pensive shift in Anthony's eyes.

“In general, have you been OK?” Kate asked. “Violet asked me what was going on with you.”

“Did she?” Anthony rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, even though I'm probably not a good person to ask anymore.”

“Why not?” Anthony’s tone was almost defensive.

Surprised, Kate stammered a bit. “Well, um… We don't… I'm just not in your life most of the time. There's plenty that could be happening with you, and there’d be no reason for me to know.

Anthony seemed to consider that for a few moments, his brow furrowed. “You really feel like that?”

“You don't?” Kate replied, instead of thinking too hard about how sad it made her feel, the prospect of Anthony eventually becoming truly estranged from her. What will we be to each other by the time Kav is a teenager? 

“No, I don't.” Anthony was almost petulant in the sternness of his response.

“Oh.” That was all Kate could say. She took another bite of cake. 

There was an awkward silence. Anthony seemed to think of something to fill it.

“Hey. I haven't told anyone at work yet, um, I'm working on a book.”

Kate sat up. “Really?!”

Anthony nodded, reluctant pride colouring his face. 

“You’re writing again! That makes me so happy. Tell me, tell me. What's it about?”

“A mother and son fighting for the affection of a useless dog,” Anthony answered with a smirk.

Kate stared at him for a couple of seconds before whacking him with a pillow. “You'd better be kidding.”

“I'm not. Of course, you and Maan would need to grant me life rights before I publish it.”

Kate continued to glare at him, and he laughed.

“Kit, I promise, it's really cute. It'll be even cuter with your pictures.”

“What?”

“I can't publish a book without your pictures. That'd be blasphemous, coming out with a book after so long, only to have the illustrations be subpar. You ruined me for other illustrators a long time ago.”

“You're serious.”

Anthony nodded, his eyes full of…something Kate couldn't quite decipher.

“I, um…”

He reached out and patted her knee. “You don't have to answer now. But please think about it. I can show you what I have so far and… Just think about it, please.”

Kate smiled at his earnestness, ignoring the warmth his touch left behind on her leg. “I'll think about it.”

“Thank you. Now,” Anthony turned more towards her. “I have a much more important question.”

“What's that?” Kate tried to sound breezy, but was sure she failed.

“Are you, Ms. Sharma-Bridgerton, going to finish that slice of cake?”

Kate sighed a soft laugh, shaking her head as she passed Anthony her plate. He eagerly took a bite, and made a face that was too obscene for Kate to look at directly, accompanied by a sound that was just as bad.

“Fuck, Edwina can bake.”

“I know, right?

“Why doesn't she do this professionally?”

“She thinks she'd hate it if she had to do it.”

Anthony took another bite and shrugged. “That's fair. But my God.”

Kate laughed, and had to look away again. “I'm just happy Ned's favourite is the same as mine.”

“Strawberries and chocolate,” Anthony said appreciatively, looking at the fork.

“Yeah.”

“That’s what you tasted like.” His voice was low and wistful.

Warmth suddenly surged through Kate's body. “What?”

“The night we met, at that party.” He looked over at her, his eyes landing on her lips. “When I kissed you.”

Kate forced a laugh, having no idea what to do with that, what Anthony wanted her to do with that. “Well, I may or may not have been parked next to the chocolate fountain the whole time before you talked to me.”

“Oh, I know you were. Why do you think I went over there?”

“For the novelty of a chocolate fountain in a flat occupied by no one over the age of twenty-two?” Kate truly didn't know what this conversation was anymore, and Anthony didn't seem concerned with helping her out. He just wordlessly shook his head. Kate bit her lip. “That, um… That feels like three lifetimes ago.”

“It’s odd to think about. Right now, at this particular moment.”

“Why now in particular?”

“Well, we had a party for our oldest’s fourteenth birthday today. Now, we’re lying here in the living room, decompressing after putting the kids to bed. It’s exactly the kind of scene I would have dreamed about back then. But…” Anthony looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t live here.”

Kate could feel her eyes getting heavy with tears. “Right,” she whispered.

Anthony slowly shook his head, continuing to look up. “That part, I would have never seen coming.” Kate thought she saw his own eyes getting watery.  “Kit?”

“Yes?”

“Are you happy?”

Am I happy? Kate really had no idea what was happening.

“I have a really good life,” she conceded. 

Anthony nodded, but didn't let it go. “Are you happy, though?”

“I… don’t know, actually. I try not to think about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do if the answer is no.”

“Yeah.” He gave her half a smile. “I’m not happy,” he said simply. He propped himself up a bit more as he continued. “Kit, I think we made a mistake. We got it all wrong. I don’t think our marriage was the problem. We ran away from each other when we needed each other most.”

Kate suddenly found it hard to breathe. “Anthony–”

“I think we made a monumental, excruciatingly harmful mistake. And the five of us are so much worse off because of it.” Anthony sat up fully, and ran a hand down her arm. “Is there any part of you that agrees with me?”

“Yes.” The answer was out before Kate could even think about it. She finally made herself look back at him.

“Really?” His eyes lit up. 

“Yes. But… Well, what do we do?”

Anthony huffed out a laugh. “I have no fucking idea, Kit.” His hand reached down to cover hers. “Can I try kissing you? Maybe that will help.”

“Yes.”

Anthony approached her slowly, eyes shining with gratitude, as if this is all he's ever wanted. How long had he wanted this? How long had she? Did they ever really stop?

He placed his lips on hers carefully but confidently, like he did that first time when they were at uni. It was brief. He pulled back slightly after a couple of seconds, but didn't move away completely. Their lips hovered over each other as he waited. Kate knew that's what he was doing. Giving her the chance to end it there, or continue exploring. She chose the latter.

She surged forward while pulling him to her by his hair, and they met roughly in the middle. Anthony made a wounded sound that only resulted in Kate tightening her grip, and then he more or less fell on top of her. She giggled against his mouth, a sound that died immediately when he took that opportunity to tease his tongue past her lips. The thoughts that had temporarily vacated Kate's head started trickling back in as she felt Anthony roll her onto her back and settle between her legs, one of his hands on the back of her neck, the other disappearing under her shirt.

“Strawberries and chocolate,” he murmured as he kissed her throat.

When Anthony's fingers started playing with the button of her shorts, a thought occurred to Kate that had her pushing him back.

“Wait. This isn't right.”

He sat back on his haunches, panting. “Why not?”

“Anthony,” Kate said with derision, trying her best to ignore the state of him, his hair in utter disarray, his flushed face, black eyes, and swollen lips. “Your girlfriend?”

Anthony huffed and shook his head, still breathing heavily. “We broke up. Last month.”

“Oh.”

Anthony clasped her hands. “I promise, Kit. You know I would never–”

“No, of course. Of course.”

Anthony leaned his forehead against Kate's.

“We shouldn’t be doing this out here,” he whispered. “Not with the kids upstairs.”

“You're right. Do you want to go to my room?”

“Fuck, yes,” Anthony hissed and they laughed. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

Kate looked into her husband's eyes. A voice in her head reminded her that he wasn't her husband anymore, but a louder one said, Fuck off. Yes, he is.

“Yes, I'm sure.”

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Hey there, it's Ray from Youtube! Thank you so much again for your response to my exceptionally long message, I really appreciate that you took so much time to reply to me! I watched your worldbuilding video and read the blog post you linked, and it actually helped me solve a major remaining issue in my magic system, so thank you for that as well! Anyway — I think one of the main reasons I've been struggling so much is because I'm not great at revision, so I feel like everything needs to (cont.)

(continued from previous) be at least pretty good on my first try. This is another hurdle for me in writing my book series, which is heightened by its closeness to my heart. Right now, I feel like I can't let myself write the first scene before I know exactly what the inside of the protagonist's home looks like, which I've never done for any of my other works. There are definitely still things I need to plan, but I know I'm overpreparing. In your reply to me, you (cont— last one, I promise!)

(cont.) mentioned that allowing yourself to be imperfect (which I think I prefer over "purposefully writing badly") and prioritizing joy helped you finally cross the hurdle for the project where you had the same issue as me. What helped you specifically take that first step of starting? Also - thank you again for replying and offering to chat with me! BTW, I love your published work - it's so unique. You have such incredible imagination & voice. Can't wait to read one of your books!

This answer was longer than I thought, so I've put it under the cut! TL;DR - I discuss overcoming perfectionism in writing, drafting and editing anxiety, and what drove me to work on my perfectionism!

Hi Ray, thank you so much for reaching out! First: thank you for your kind words about my writing, your support is so appreciated! <3 :)

I'm also SO happy to hear about the magic system thing, I'm happy the video was helpful! Onto your ask!

I think one of the main reasons I've been struggling so much is because I'm not great at revision, so I feel like everything needs to be at least pretty good on my first try.

I hear you about needing things to be perfect on the first try because you're not super set on your revision skills just yet--coincidentally, this is an issue I was thinking of yesterday, as someone who was also in this exact position!

I think I'll make a video about this, because from the comments on the "scared of my book" video, this seems to be an issue a LOT of writers have (including me)! From the majority of writers I've met IRL and online, most who struggle with perfectionism do it for one of two reasons (or some from both): a) you aren't confident you can revise, and/or b) you're afraid of judgement.

Let's break down A since that's what you noted!

A: Writer feels they need to write perfectly on the first go because they're not confident in their editing abilities.

This is a super normal reaction to a very typical problem in writing, and will especially become relevant the longer you write (and see yourself improving, since improvement can sometimes create expectations--which is another problem)!

It's funny, because we can't get better at revision if we don't practice revision. This issue stopped me from writing my book Feeding Habits because I was like... "this needs to be perfect on the first go." Looking back, I'm not sure why I thought that, but I now realize it's because back then, I didn't even know how to approach revision.

Not knowing how to revise is NORMAL! It's such a different skill to drafting, so these feelings are very, very valid (and every writer I know has had them). The hard truth though, is that if a writer doesn't practice revision, they won't get better at it. It took me the hard way to realize this (a year after writing a solid chunk of Feeding Habits to realize it needed structural revisions). Funnily enough, revising those chapters I refused to revise because I needed them to be perfect on the first try (even though they weren't) taught me 20x more than trying to perfect their drafts on the first go.

Right now, I feel like I can't let myself write the first scene before I know exactly what the inside of the protagonist's home looks like, which I've never done for any of my other works. There are definitely still things I need to plan, but I know I'm overpreparing.

Overpreparing is something I used to do a LOT out of anxiety that my work would turn out imperfectly (and again, I think this is so common--you're absolutely not alone). The moment I addressed that I was overprepping to quell my anxiety was when I actually could take steps toward deprogramming that behaviour. I slowly realized that I DIDN'T need to know everything in order to write, so why was I even trying to learn everything in the first place? It was because I was so anxious that if I didn't, I'd have a bigger chance at "messing up" and I couldn't mess up because I didn't know how to revise (see point A)!

In your reply to me, you mentioned that allowing yourself to be imperfect... and prioritizing joy helped you finally cross the hurdle for the project where you had the same issue as me. What helped you specifically take that first step of starting?

The reason I noted the things above before answering your question is because they're really important context. I really feel for what you're experiencing because I honestly went through the same thing, and I'm happy to help any writers!

CW here: discussions of mental health

To answer the question of why I began prioritizing my joy and being okay with being imperfect, I should give some context, because this is honestly the truth: I pretty much had to!

I started experiencing really debilitating perfectionism in mid 2018-ish (I was 16). I'd made a genre switch toward literary fiction and also felt like I'd solidified my "writing style." The genre switch and finding my writing style were hugely positive things for my process! Who doesn't want to find a genre they like to write, and who doesn't want to find their writing style?

The issue was that when I became conscious that I'd made developments as a writer (and what felt like huge developments), the more petrified I was of accidentally "reversing" them by writing something "bad." If I could talk to myself back then, I would just say one thing: you can't reverse your accomplishments in writing. I would go on to write bad paragraphs, bad sentences, bad chapters, bad books! My style got convoluted, my literary fiction became confusing and shallow. But I never, ever lost the overall accomplishments of finding my style and finding a genre I loved (I also experienced extremely positive things in my writing too!).

Writing isn't linear progression (sometimes I look back at things I wrote 4 years ago and am certain I couldn't recreate that now), but you do progress overall. It's like climbing a really, really steep hill, where sometimes you might slip or take a longer path because you turned the wrong way, etc, but at the end of it, you're still moving up.

This gets me all the way to nearly mid-2021, when I was still badly struggling with perfectionism. In this three year stretch, I was really struggling with my mental health, but this kind of felt like a tipping point where I felt very trapped in a routine I didn't want to be in anymore. I was struggling to get through days even though my external life was totally fine, and I was also very, very unhappy I remember posting videos to my channel that summer, and sometimes I'd get comments saying, "you look so happy/good/excited" and I never knew what to say because I felt very empty and no one except me could tell!

Struggling with writing was the LAST thing I needed (because writing is my safe space, and it was starting to become hellish due to my perfectionism, so I felt like I had no safe space left--this was detrimental and I knew it FAST, when my feelings worsened). So to answer the question, I was prompted to take the first steps of changing my process and perfectionism because I was struggling, and I'm not sure what would've happened if I hadn't!

However, I don't remember a single moment where I was like, "I'm going to turn my life around today," but I remember there being moments where I'd be thinking to myself, "I don't want writing to be like this anymore," or, "I'm just going to make this easier by doing this," or "I'm going to try to move past this." Instead, the changes were subtler, or at the very least took some pondering to make.

I had been working on a 10k word chapter in Feeding Habits for half a year, and decided, after weeks of contemplating, to remove it. That freed up my process a bit! I then started telling myself whenever a voice in my head would go "this is so bad" while drafting that "it's okay if this isn't perfect, I'm going to move on," and 10 times out of 10, I'd come back a day later, read what I wrote, and make very little changes because the draft was much better than I thought. I then did a bigger thing by rewriting a chapter entirely from the book, which I'd NEVER done. It took me a month of working at it little by little (and constant reminders that I didn’t need to perfect it), but at the end of it, I felt much better about the book. All these very small things I was doing were a covert way to tell myself that trusting myself was okay! If I gave myself permission to move on from line-level perfectionism while drafting, I was pretty much telling myself that I accepted the draft where it was, and could always come back and tweak it later (even if I couldn't do a perfect job then).

I'd built up a bit more confidence doing these things, as I'd gotten used to letting "imperfect" drafts lie around (some of which I have hardly touched since, as they were totally fine to begin with and didn't need lots of revision to begin with). A HUGE thing that helped me that year was writing 11k words of a fantasy novel (brand new genre to me) in one day. I'd barely planned the book, knew nothing about the genre, etc, but having this extreme goal really forced me to face my fears of imperfection early on (as I'd make a decision at 1PM that day and then realize I'd have to fix it at 6PM that day when I made another decision that contradicted it, etc). This is pretty extreme, but it did help me so much, because I learned to sit in the discomfort of knowing the draft wasn't perfect but moving on anyway.

Practicing this grace of allowing myself to fail in incremental steps has built me up into a much, much stronger writer a year and a half later. I look back on that time and I'm kind of shocked as to where my mind was regarding my writing, because things have changed SO much!

It's funny to say, "all this took was allowing myself to make mistakes" because it makes it sound like giving yourself permission to be imperfect is easy. It's absolutely NOT. Every time I draft, there's a moment where my brain is like, "hey this is bad," but I've gotten into the habit of then calmly telling myself "hey it's okay if this isn't perfect, I'm going to keep going now." Just as much as writing is practice, editing is practice, etc, shaking perfectionism is practice and something I now do every day. It becomes easier each day I do it.

For example, a couple months ago, I was reading books from a writer I really admire, and I was quite literally feeling extremely inadequate about my writing. I was shocked to feel this way, because it'd been over a year since I last felt so badly about my work, but instead of letting that drive my process, I took the skills I'd learned and applied them. I reminded myself that I was writing a first draft, and that what I was reading was a published book--that's like comparing apples to oranges. I reminded myself that I have my own style and my own approach to writing, so of course my writing isn't going to be the same as another writer's. I also reminded myself that if I REALLY was unhappy with how something turned out, I could rewrite it or revise it at a different time. Then I moved on. Couple hours later, I had one of the best writing sessions of my life.

So the practice really has paid off for me, even though it was SO hard! 2022 was the best year I've had for writing maybe ever because I felt so much freer than I have before! I only wrote things that made me excited (and this doesn't mean writing was smooth sailing 100% of the time--it just means that I was still relatively passionate about something even if it was giving me issues). Learning to trust myself as a writer over the last year and a bit is the best thing I've done for my process because it's made me SO MUCH more confident. So what if I write badly? I don't care anymore (or at least as much, and sometimes not at all)! So what if I embarrass myself? It's not as big of deal to me anymore, and if it is, I can talk myself through those feelings (example: I posted a video reading excerpts of my book on YouTube, and 2 days ago, was re-reading one of the excerpts and was SOOO embarrassed that other people had read this, but then took 30 seconds to talk myself through the issue by reminding myself this video was for fun, the excerpt makes me feel excited, and that I actually do like it even though I'm uncomfortable in this moment knowing other people could judge it, positively or negatively).

Anyway, I know this was SUPER long, but I just wanted to share the full breadth of my thoughts. I wonder if you'd mind if I made a video on this topic because it's something I haven't talked about in-depth before!

Wishing you all the best, Ray, I absolutely believe in you! Always feel free to reach out, my DMs are also open! <3

[amywritesthings]

fic writer interview.

found this in the tags while I was browsing & thought it could be a fun way to end 2022! i am not tagging anyone, but if you'd like to fill it out, then feel free to copy + paste it to a new post!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Eleven, soon to be twelve!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

113,915

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Marvel (The Avengers, Moon Knight), Star Wars (The Mandalorian, Andor), The Last of Us, The Bubble, and Stranger Things

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Point A to Point B (493)

Where Shadows Meet Spaces (356)

Meet Me at the Usual (277)

A First for Breathing (226)

Meet Me On the Other Side (118)

5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Every single one, no matter how long or how short! Reblogs on tumblr and replies/comments under the posts are literally my life source to keep me going through the day. I try to make sure I don't miss a single response if I can help it.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

It isn't finished yet, but I have the finale outlined for Famous Last Words as I only have two more parts to go. (That I intend to finish some day I promise!) Same Old Mistakes will have the angstiest ending out of all of my fics.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I do not. I totally could one day, though. Just has to have the right mood.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No! Luckily I am fortunate enough to say that I have been given only constructive criticism to my fics, which is not equivalent to hate.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do! I actually really get nervous about writing smut. Like it'll take me eons to write smut chapters versus normal chapters because they're the pieces of writing I'm most self conscious about. (Even if... nearly all of my works constitute as smut-based fics.) I primarily write f/m smut just because... well, it just happens that way? And I write smut for me, so I don't primarily write things that I don't find hot. Because fic-writing it's about self-indulging, baybeeee.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No! Not that I am aware of, anyway. Hopefully not, because stealing fics is lame.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I'm aware of, no.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I'm actually more well-versed in roleplay writing than I am with fanfics, so I want to say... yes? Because I've written collaborative stories with friends that I've just never published to the public, but it's a long-winded way of say yes and also no.

13. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

I don't know if I have one? I write mainly reader insert because I would be writing original character x canon fic, but they don't typically sell well, so I adopted 2nd person writing to get with the times.

In terms of readership, I loved Buffy/Spike from BtVS as a kid, Garrus x Sheppard from Mass Effect 3, Zutara from ATLA, Jack & Elizabeth from POTC, Obidala, Dramione, Reylo... I'm typically a big proponent of enemies to lovers, if that hasn't been obvious yet, lol.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I have a Succession fanfiction that is extremely dark and 'dead dove don't eat' territory that I've had sitting in my google docs for over a year now. I think it's some of my best writing, but I know that it's extremely taboo and very much not safe for work, so I struggle with posting it despite how I go back to read it all the time lol. I write a really good Kendall Roy, guys!

15. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue. I went to school and have a degree in pre-production motion picture and television writing, so screenwriting is my niche little hobby that I wanted to turn into a career and never did. That being said, I think that I can really pick up on dialect of characters and actors very well in order to translate them into original pieces / fanfiction, so I think most of my strengths lie within my verbal writing.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Description. I absolutely loathe writing long paragraphs and descriptors and tend to gloss over when others write very long paragraph writing. My attention span just cannot handle non-quippy and whippy writing, and that goes for myself as well. I'd rather just write the dialogue and the drama going on between interpersonal relationships, and tend to struggle with setting up locations and atmospheres in a broader, descriptive sense vs. abstract.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I don't do it because I would have to use Google Translator and that's a total gamble, but I admire those who can and do fluently. I can read Spanish, but I cannot write it. The closest we get is me writing Din speaking in Mando'a and quite honestly I do not know if those translations are even real / up to Wookiepedia code lol.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Y'all are going to lose. your. shit over this.

Jimmy Neutron. I was nine years old. A 12-part story I still say is my best work 😂

19. What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

Point A to Point B will likely be my favorite. I have put so much of my heart and soul in that storytelling and world crafting that I'd be remiss to suggest anything else.

[considerablecolors]

Hiii! I recently started one of your fics (the anderperry Tumblr au) and I was so sad to see it wasn't finished! I was wondering if you were going to write anymore, I guess. Have a nice day!

this ended up being kind of long lol- so im putting it under a read more, and i have a tl;dr at the end for anyone who wants the broad strokes without the whole backstory :)

hi! first of all, thank u so much for reading, i hope you've been enjoying it! tbh, this is probably something i should have addressed ages ago, so genuinely thank u for reaching out and motivating me to finally talk about this lol. so to be 100% honest, this question is kind of a hard one for me to answer?

dead poets society is a piece of media that means a lot to me and will always be a key piece of me, but it also sort of represents a part of my life that i don't like dwelling on if that makes sense. tbh it's probably obvious that i was going thru a rough patch just by reading some of my earlier dps stuff (neil perry is not okay is... yeah... lol). additionally, dps is something that i associate heavily with someone that's not really a big part of my life anymore, so sometimes it honestly feels wrong to write certain characters without thinking about that. it's also prolly obvious that dps is not really my main special interest anymore and hasn't been for a little while now.

ALL THAT BEING SAID- dead poets society will never not mean the world to me. despite all the mixed feelings i've come to associate with it, i keep rewatching with the film and engaging with content in small ways specifically because i don't want to let my past struggles ruin something i love. even if it's not the main interest of this blog or ao3 account, i'm definitely still fond of it.

but what does all this mean in terms of content? i'm not really sure. one thing is certain- i intend to write for dps again. i actively have been, in fact. ive been working for a while on a long dps fic and am probably around 1/3 done with it, but im holding off on uploading it until it's completely done specifically to avoid leaving people hanging with a WIP. i have absolutely no idea when it'll actually be finished, but i am really excited for u all to read it.

as for the current dps WIPs i have? unfortunately, i don't think i can say they're getting finished :(. we'll kick it when i hit the ground (anderperry tumblr au) and the whole "being dead" thing (ghost neil au) are both still in the very early stages of their stories and sadly i just don't think i have the energy to finish them. i'd be more than happy to talk a bit and summarize what i had originally planned for the stories if anyone would like that, but i think the stories themselves are probably done for now. as for the neil perry is not okay series, another long, full-length fic like there will be light is definitely a no, but i'd say there's a good chance of me writing a one-shot or two at some point.

in general, i'd say other than the big dps fic im working on, expect any future dps fics from me to be short one-shots that are much lighter in tone. probably still some hurt/comfort cause that's my jam, but less of the heavy angst i typically wrote lol.

lastly, i do want to just take a minute to say thank you to everyone who's still reading my dps fics. like i said, a lot of them represent a pretty bad time in my life, but i can never bring myself to hate them or resent them sheerly because of the outpour of love and appreciation they've received from the fandom. even if im slow to reply to comments sometimes, i promise i read every single one and they mean the world to me. while it's hard to think about some of the things i was going thru while writing things like there will be light, those fics provided a safe place and a source of comfort for me to work out my feelings and find solace, and nothing in the world makes me happier than seeing my writing create the same space for other people. from the bottom of my heart, thank you to everyone that's even clicked on and glanced at a fic of mine. it means the world to me <3.

while it does make me really sad to say that i likely won't return to some of the writings i put so much love into, im really proud of some of the things ive been working on lately, and i hope you all will enjoy it as well! if not, that's ok too, im eternally grateful to anyone who's gotten something out of any of my past work too.

TL;DR:

unfortunately, any WIPs i had for dps are probably going to remain unfinished. if people would like to hear a summary of what id had planned for the remainder of any of these, id be happy to provide that. while i am taking a break from the dps fandom, i still love dps and would be happy to chat about it with anyone that wants to, and i do intend to return to creating dps content- i just don't know when exactly that will be. thank you from the bottom of my heart to anyone who's enjoyed my content in the past, and im wishing you all the absolute best. carpe diem <3

[brokentoys]

🔥🔥🔥

OLD MAN YELLS AT CLOUD / ACCEPTING . . .

1 . . . Beta editor is possibly better than Legacy and people are just too stubborn to accept change. I don't know how unpopular of an opinion this is as many people are forced into beta when they make a new account, and I know beta editor has its fans. But at first, I didn't like it as much and would always prefer to use Legacy. I, however, stopped when I noticed more people using Beta. After getting used to it, I discover I much prefer it for formatting and doing replies than Legacy. Yes, Beta has its glitches and clunkiness. But uh... so does Legacy? The prime example of why I prefer Beta is because threads look better. It looks better when you cut them. Legacy now has that broken blockquote that breaks every paragraph, and isn't compatible with images. Cutting posts with beta editor is much cleaner looking. (And just as easy/easier once you learn how to do it) Also beta offers a good range of formatting options that Legacy doesn't. Beta also allows more images in one post (30, Legacy only allows 10) as well as other options Legacy doesn't have.

Hell! There's no need to make a "do not reblog" tag if you use Beta because you can literally make any post not rebloggable. And if you want to reblog it later for other ppl to see it - you can quickly make it rebloggable again, and then set it to not be reblogged. Beta also autosaves your post to drafts every minute - therefore, if your browser/computer crashes, you won't have to worry about losing too much! My biggest gripes with Beta is that it doesn't remember tags well (especially the fancy ones) and there is an annoying glitch that if you press CTRL + Z, it'll erase your entire paragraph. I haven't noticed the latter happening in a while, but I'm also careful about using that shortcut when using Beta - so I dunno if it's been fixed or not.

2 . . . Batman still has a sexism issue. It's just that they've made it more subtle than back in the day. If you ever watched the Adam West show - it's a good one, but you can see where it supposedly aged. For example, especially in the early episodes, Batman meets a henchwoman and always calls them something like a misguided child who was tricked by the Evil Man. The henchwoman almost always agrees, and helps Batman in the end, or admits the baddie did manipulate her with promises of fulfilling her dreams. The henchwoman was never just evil or greedy. Because of Bruce's treatment of these girls (literally calling them child at times) - it seems sexist to believe all women are goodhearted by nature, and if they're bad, it's only because a dirty man put them in the wrong direction. They CAN'T be bad for themselves. But surely Batman isn't like this anymore... right?

Wrong. Batman still has an issue where the female rogues are generally treated with more sympathy, and are often seen as "victims" more frequently than the male. The female rogues aren't usually met with the same treatment/brutality as the male ones. And almost all the female rogues aren't just bad. They're almost always depicted as bad, but with a good motive, bad, but because she wants to make a man happy/was manipulated by a man, or she's an antihero. It's rare to see a big female rogue that's gets the same sad treatment the majority of the males do - just kill for the hell of it and is greedy as hell and has no morals, or remorse for what she does. As I've complained about the writing's treatment of Eddie's reformation versus Harley's reformation. Harley is typically treated as a victim and more sympathetic despite the unforgiveable actions her character as done in older comics. Meanwhile, Eddie is treated as somebody who can never be forgiven, and is utter trash. Of course, this is also credited to Harley being a more popular character. But with the other female characters being in the categories I've mentioned, it's definitely also because Harley's a woman. The idea that women can't be pure evil is sexist because it denies the complexity of women and enforces the idea that they're all sweet loving motherly figures. It some cases, it also implies woman can't make her own decisions without being convinced by man.

3 . . . Beware The Batman may have failed because it got a "death slot" by Cartoon Network. But honestly? It wasn't good. The writing and pacing was sloppy and all over the place. The first few episodes had many plot conveniences and made the story feel contrived rather than natural and steady moving like BTAS and The Batman 2004 had. The Batman 2004 may have been bold with many drastically new designs for the familiar characters. But at least the designs, even if you may not prefer them over the classic designs, are still interesting to look at. Almost every design in Beware was just... bland as fuck. It didn't help that it was somewhat early CGI, so you know... Batman is driving through a major city like Gotham and it's completely barren. The streets are empty and there are no cars around. It REALLY takes you out of immersion, and makes the city feel fake. Also there's this really funny scene where Gordon has to find someone named Lump Head or whatever, and like the dude has a giant ball lump on top of his bald head. But Gordon had to LOOK at the picture in his files to make sure he has the right dude LMAOOOO. Anyway. Even if Beware didn't get a death slot, I just didn't see it going on for too long. And honestly, it definitely wouldn't have deserved the lifespan that The Batman 2004 or BTAS got. I don't really understand why so many people act like it was a good show that would've thrived had CN not give it that death slot.

[darkrpfinders]

Hello there!

(I) About Me

1. I’m 18+

2. Pronouns are he/him/they/them

3. I typically post at least once every other day but I could certainly get a few posts out during a single day depending on how busy I am! I’m almost always around for OOC though!

4. The length of my writing fluctuates but I prefer to write on the lengthier side. 500-750 words is the average I try to go for.

5. I write in the third person.

6. I LOVE to gush about characters, send boards, songs, I love to just get very invested!

7. If there is anything else you’d like to know, don’t hesitate to ask!

(II) Rules

1. Please only contact me if you are 18+.

2. Characters used must also be at least 18. If not, they must be aged up.

3. Please be engaged in the discussing process. If you don't show much interest before the roleplay begins, I will believe that you don't have much interest to the roleplay itself.

4. Please write with proper grammar and pronunciation in your posts. I don't mind if that is not shown in regular messages but please come with it for the thread.

5. No one-liners. I personally don't like to write less than 3 full paragraphs and one-liners do not provide me much to work with. However, I do give the option for mini roleplays to go along with our main roleplay to help expand the world. For that, I am perfectly fine with shorter responses like one-liners. I love writing and I figured this would be a fun way to do that and further along the story!

6. Please post consistently. If replies are inconsistent, sadly my interest in the roleplay wavers. I prefer more frequent posts but if you let me know that you only post once a week, or even once a month, that is perfectly fine with me!

7. I prefer to write on discord servers as that allows everything to be more organized BUT if you prefer to write somewhere else, I do not mind writing threads there. However, I do request a place where we could have things be organized.

(I promise I'm not going to be stern when we talk! I'm very easygoing!)

(III) Fandoms

If a character is below the age of 18, they WILL be aged up to at least 18.

Dragonball Z/Super

Who I'm looking for: Android 18, Android 21

Who I can play: OC. Krillin, Vegeta, Goku, Gohan

Pairing(s) I'm hoping to write: OC x Android 18, OC x Android 21, Krillin x Android 18, Vegeta x Android 18

Metroid

Who I'm looking for: Samus

Who I can play: OC

Pairing(s) I'm hoping to write: OC x Samus

Naruto

Who I'm looking for: Sakura, Ino, Temari

Who I can play: OC, Naruto, Shikamaru, Sasuke, Kakashi, Itachi, Neji

Pairing(s) I'm hoping to write: OC x Sakura, OC x Ino, Naruto x Sakura, Shikamaru x Temari

Pokemon

Who I'm looking for: Cynthia, Protagonist CC/OC

Who I can play: OC, Protagonist CC/OC

Pairing(s) I'm hoping to write: OC x Cynthia, Protagonist CC x Protagonist CC, Protagonist OC x Protagonist CC, Protagonist OC x Protagonist OC

Stranger Things

Who I'm looking for: Eleven

Who I can play: OC, Hopper, Mike, Dustin, Lucas, Will, Jonathan, Steve, Billy, Nancy, Robin

Pairing(s) I'm hoping to write: OC x Eleven, Hopper & Eleven(STRICTLY PLATONIC)

Teen Titans

Who I'm looking for: Starfire(DCAMU)

Who I can play: Nightwing(DCAMU), Batman, Superman, Flash. OC

Pairing(s) I'm hoping to write: Nightwing x Starfire

The Legend of Zelda (Please have a knowledge of most of the games/story)

Who I'm looking for: Zelda

Who I can play: Link

Pairing(s) I'm hoping to write: Link x Zelda

Yu-Gi-Oh

Who I'm looking for: Akiza, Alexis

Who I can play: OC, Jaden, Chazz, Zane, Yusei

Pairing(s) I'm hoping to write: OC x Akiza, OC x Alexis, Jaden x Alexis, Chazz x Alexis

(IV) Goodbye

Thank you for taking time out of your day to read through this! I'm excited to hear from any and all potential partners! If any part of this had interested you, please go ahead and interact with this post! I hope you all have a wonderful day! Happy Writing!

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