#Going to tag other characters for this gets more visibility hope that is okay with everyone

[homestucklineup]

HOMESTUCK LINEUP PROJECT:

JADE HARLEY (21 DAYS TO SUBMIT)

The project finally begins! You can now start submitting your Jade Harley art! Everyone will be credited, and at the end of 3 weeks (21 days) we will make a gif compilation of all the submitted artwork!

(Above GIFS to provide examples of what it may look like)

You can submit by either @homestucklineup or using our submission box!

-> HOW TO DRAW THE LINEUP <- -> HOW TO SUBMIT YOUR ART <-

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Pent Up 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, virginity loss, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you seek validation through online correspondence with incarcerated men, only for one to lock you down in turn.

Characters: convict/excon!Thor (silverfox)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You can sense the reluctance as Thor drags his finger around the crumbs on his plate. You cannot mirror the sentiment. You are desperate to get away. You wipe your fingers with a napkin and cough. 

“Thanks, uh, again, that was really nice but I should probably go.” You look around evasively. 

“Oh?” He utters flatly. “Should? We could go for a walk? See a movie? I must admit, I didn’t get to see much when I was away. I have much to catch on.” 

You make yourself look at him. Despite his size and strength, even his age, there’s something very puppyish about him. That twinkle in his eye gleams with hopefulness, a stark contrast to your own doom. 

“Well, you know, I gotta get back to the house. My stepdad’s super paranoid and I did say I’d hold down the fort, so... yeah.” 

He nods as his brows arch curiously. 

“They’re off on vacation and he thinks the neighbour’s been dumping grass trimming in the back...” 

“Away? Without you?” Thor wonders. 

You have to keep from visibly cringing. Again, you said too much. Just like online. Just like how you got yourself into this mess. You give a sheepish smile. 

“Well, I have work so... just couldn’t make it work.” 

“But you have the house to yourself?” He asks. 

You stare at him and nod. Shit. 

“If your stepfather worries, would it not be better for you to have some protection? My queen, I must admit, to think of you all alone, it makes me worry,” he taps on the edge of his plate. “All those months in prison, I worried. I could not wait to be out, not only to look upon your beauty in the flesh but to make sure that you are safe.” 

Your breath clogs in your chest. You squirm. Your lies always just compound into a trap. This is why honesty is best yet you know telling him the whole truth won’t help you now. 

“Well, maybe you can walk me home?” You shrug. “Like I said, my stepdad. Super controlling, I don’t think he’d be okay with me having company.” 

He narrows his eyes and sits back, puffing his large chest as he strokes his beard thoughtfully. “Mm, yes, this stepfather of yours, he does sound as controlling as a prison guard. Well, my queen, you needn’t mind the peasants. Your king is here.” 

“Thor, please, it’s fine. I... he’s not that bad and I... I live there so... it’s the least I can do,” you shrug. 

“Not for much longer. You should not live with him if he cannot trust you. If he cannot see you for the treasure you are,” he crosses his arms, his muscles bulging in the flannel. “You deserve a castle of your own.” 

“Right, uh, that’s so sweet but really, I’m tired. I need to go,” you cautiously stand and put your empty mug on the small plate. 

“Yes, my queen, you have blessed me on this happy day, when at last we are together,” he stands and gathers his own dishes before reaching for yours. “Do not trouble yourself. Allow me to serve you as you deserve.” 

You let him take the plate. You watch him go to the counter and leave them there. You hurry for the door. Not quick enough. He’s there to meet you. He opens it in his gentlemanly way and you step out. 

“I have to catch the bus, you know? So you don’t need to come all this way.” 

“The bus? No, my queen, I have a vehicle,” he assures as he catches up to you. You wince as he wraps his arm around you, his hand firmly on your cushy hip.  

You touch his knuckles as you squeak. “Oh.” 

“Forgive me, queen, I cannot help myself,” he growls. “I finally have you near...” he squeezes as he leads you the sidewalk, “and you are softer than I could know.” 

“Please, er,” you look around. “I... not in public.” 

“Yes, my queen,” he recoils, dragging his hand across your back with a huff. “I understand, you would save our love only for us.” 

“Um, sure, yes, exactly,” you agree frantically. 

“This is me,” he points to a big red truck.  

You slow and eye the bright paint. It’s not what you expect. It looks brand new. You eye him warily. He wouldn’t steal on day one? Well, you know his record. He’s done worse. You shiver at the thought. 

He opens the door once more. He helps you up into the lifted truck. You’re dizzy, not just from the height. This whole situation is disorienting. 

You stare through the windshield. Pedestrians trawl by lazily, ignorant to your predicament. If they knew, they’d judge you anyway. Stupid girl. 

You should’ve left it alone. You should have stayed alone. Nope, you just needed to feel special. You needed to let these dirty old criminals tell you the same things they’d say to a forty-year-old. It was never real. Or never should have been. 

“My queen,” he snaps in his seat belt. You glance over at how it stretches over his thick torso. “You must secure yourself.” 

Your eyes flick back and forth. You cough and nod. You click the seat belt in and fight to release the air trapped in your chest. 

“Do you work tomorrow, my love?” He asks as he turns the engine. 

You brace the interior of the door and force the breath through your nose. Your blood is boiling. You can’t think fast enough to lie. Haven't you done enough of that? 

“Nope,” you gulp. 

“Perfect, then I shall plan us a wonderful day,” he proclaims. “And we will be together and happy.” 

“Thor, I... I have chores,” you eke out. That’s not a lie. You told your stepdad you’d take care of the place and you slacked on the vacuuming and laundry. 

“Hm, yes, a very responsible woman. It is how I know you will make a good wife. Well, I could assist--” 

“Wife--” You squeak and curl your fingers around the handle of the door. “Thor.” 

“Yes, well, we will take it one step at a time,” he grins at the road as he steers. Somehow, he seems too small for the gargantuan vehicle. “I’ve not yet kissed you as I’ve longed to. Held you. Worshipped you from head to toe.” A breath rumbles up from his chest and plumes from his nose in a growl. He shifts in the seat. “You cannot know how you’ve saved me, queen. You kept me good. You got me out.” 

You press yourself to your seat and pray for spontaneous combustion. He stops at a light and hums. His large fingers tap the ridges of the wheel. 

“Which way do I go, my queen?” 

You point. Your voice is stuck deep down in your gut. He turns and you blink away the horror. You manage to pluck out a sliver of courage. You use it to guide him to your stepfather’s house. The thought of being away from him is what gets you through. 

He stops at the curb as you declare your arrival. He reaches and grips the seat above your shoulder. You pause as your hand rests on the seat belt. Your heart pounds. Is he going to do something? 

“My queen, I hate to part so soon after waiting so long,” he slips his hand free and strokes your cheek. “But to look upon your beauty, to have you near at all, will soothe me for a time.” 

He cradles your face, his thumb rubbing your cheekbone. His touch alone dwarfs you. Your brain swirls like overcooked soup. You’re going to pass out. 

“I-- thank you, I... that’s-- thanks for the ride but I...” You cautiously look away. 

“Yes, yes, I promised to deliver you unscathed.” He retracts his touch and inhales deeply. 

He undoes his seat belt as he puffs out his reluctance. He gets out and you unbuckle. He opens your door and lifts you out before you can resist. You yelp, once more startled by his easy strength. 

He places you on your feet and you don’t think before you grab him for stability. Your legs are hollow and shaking. The longer he’s around, the more dire, the more real it all is. 

“Allow me to escort you to the door. For safekeeping,” he hooks his arm through yours and guides you up the walk. 

You move on instinct alone. The instinct to get away. You stop at the door and pull away to find your keys. You feel his gaze on you. 

“Before I leave, my queen, a kiss?” He sounds as nervous as you are.  

You look at him, stunned by the vulnerability in his voice. You make a noise and wet the roof of your mouth. Your chest fills with sand. Your lips open and close. 

“Okay?” You utter. 

His cheeks pinken slightly. You stare at him. Why did you say that? 

He smiles and puts his hand on your shoulder as he makes you face him. You quiver as he bends and his other hand comes up under your chin. You squeak as his mouth meets yours. His tongue flicks across your lips but does not delve deeper. 

He parts with a hum. You stare wide-eyed. His tongue glides out to taste his lips. You babble. 

“My queen? Are you unwell?” 

“I never...” you trail off and shake your head. 

You yank your keys free of your bag and face the door. He stays close, “you never kissed a man? Only me?” He wonders. “You saved yourself for me, my queen. I am honoured.” 

You choke and struggle to open the door. Heat encases your body. You push the door inward and it hits the side table just inside. 

“Uh, yeah, er, bye,” you flit through and quickly swing the door shut.  

You lock it and lean into the wood for good measure. You blink and press your back to the door. The smart screen on the side table shows Thor on the doorbell cam. He runs his hand down the door before he goes, his steps heavy. 

You blow out a breath and sink down onto the mat. You sit and stare down the hall as you listen to the engine turn. You stay there until it rumbles off down the street. 

Your daze is broken by the jitter of your phone. You blindly take it out. It’s Andy. Shit. 

You swipe the call away and get up. You leave your shoes by the door and head up to the guest room. You toss your bag on the bed and pace around with your phone. 

Do you call the cops? What did Thor do? You’ve watched those TV shows on stalkers. You’ve seen the horror stories of indifference. Take notes. That’s what they say. What good are notes going to do against a man like that? 

You yipe as your phone shakes again. Andy, leave me alone. You answer, just to get him off your back. 

“Hi,” you answer sharply. 

He sighs. “What did I say about guests?” 

“Huh?” 

“I said none, didn’t I?” He challenges. You blink, confused. 

“What?” You stop and frown at the wall. The door cam. He checks that app incessantly. “No, they just drove me back.” 

“Is that all?” He scoffs. You know he saw it all. You want to throw up. 

“Andy, please, he’s gone--” 

“Bit old for you,” he snorts. 

You shake your head, “I’m an adult.” 

“Could’ve fooled me,” he clucks. “You’re lucky your mom took the kids for a hike. I’m sure she’d be less than impressed to see you doing that.” 

“I...” you shrug. He hates everything you do. 

“I didn’t think you were that kind of girl,” he says. Your stomach knots. What does he mean? “You always were so nice.” 

You sniff, “it won’t happen again.” 

“Hm,” he tisks, “not any of my business. It’s just my house.” 

“I get it. Okay?” 

“Do you? You know exactly what you’re doing with that old man?” He sneers. 

“What do you care?” You blurt out. “You hate me.” 

He tuts again, “I don’t know where you got that from.” 

You wallow in silence. You can’t handle this right now. “Okay, Andy. I’m sorry.” 

“Hm, was that so hard?” He sighs again. “Don’t forget to mop the kitchen.” 

You hold back a heave of your own. How does he always know? You nod as your hand shakes around the phone. Your stepdad is nothing compared to your real problem. 

“Yes, sir.” 

He hums, “don’t be like that.” 

“Okay, Andy, I’ll mop right now.” 

“Good,” he preens victoriously. “And I’ll keep this little secret between us.” 

“Right, er, bye.” 

You hang up before your skin melts off your bones. Something about his tone has your nerves roiling. He always talks down to you. Like you’re stupid. A burden.  

Well, you’re just the baggage your mother brought to the marriage. He’s ready to offload you completely, and it might just happen sooner than he knows. The more you think about it, you almost prefer the criminal to your own stepdad. 

[ranhaitanisgf]

hi! could i request headcanons or oneshot (either is okay) for bonten timeline sanzu haruchiyo with an excitable, extroverted reader? thank you so much, and no worries if not! (+ also your theme still says rqs are closed, but i saw you posted them being open two hrs ago :3)

pay attention to me!!

synopsis: how would bonten haruchiyo act w/ an excited & extroverted s/o?

☆ a/n ˎˊ˗ idk if yall can tell but ive never written for mr haru lawl ... also !! i added a little mini oneshot cause i couldn't help myself :3 thank you so much for requesting !! this was so cute to write !! i hope everyone enjoysss xoxo

☆ characters ˎˊ˗ sanzu (akashi) haurchiyo x g/n!reader

☆ wc ˎˊ˗ 2.7k+

masterlist

❥ sanzu thinks you’re annoying at first. 

❥ he doesn’t notice at all when you first move into his apartment building; he doesn’t take much care in noticing small things like that if it didn’t relate to bonten. his work and mikey were the only important things to him, so when he hears excited squealing seeping through his walls one day, he thinks that his neighbor has a kid, (which quite frankly annoyed him, but he decided he didn’t care enough to do anything about it). 

❥ there was no estimated time as to when he would get home--ranging anywhere from 6pm to 4am--so it takes at least a month or two for him to meet you officially. coincidentally, he had been going out to grab a drink from the convenience store when you were excitedly jumping around outside your door, a delivery package in your hands. 

“oh! omg, are you sanzu-san?!” “...hah? who’re you?” “oh my gosh, i’ve been knocking on your door everyday for the past month, but you never seemed to be home! i never got to introduce myself to you! i’m (l/n) (y/n)! i moved in not that long ago, so i wanted to get to know my neighbors!”  “‘kay. bye.” 

❥ the only thing he wants to do is get away from you; he doesn’t want to be bothered with civilians, much less someone as annoying as you seemed to be. seriously, why were you talking so loud?!

❥ much to his displeasure, you followed him all the way to the convenience store, talking his ear off about the most meaningless things he’s ever heard of in his life, (how does somebody talking about nothing for so long?!) as he purchases his drinks and walks back to the apartment building. it takes everything in him not to snap at you; if he did, he would probably wake up all the neighbors from raising his voice, which wouldn’t be ideal since this was already his fifth apartment in the last six months. 

❥ he’s unsure how you possibly couldn’t get a hint that he didn’t want to be bothered, especially after he only said a maximum of ten words to you in the whole thirty minutes you were following him around, (are you really that clueless? is this what loneliness does to people?). it does take him by surprise that you aren’t scared of him though; you’d shown absolutely no sign of apprehension despite the scars around his mouth, which he supposes shows a bit of good character from you. not that he really cares. 

❥ he’s more than happy to shut the door on your face when he gets back to his apartment, finally indulging in the peace and quiet of his apartment, (he doesn’t think he’s ever been so happy to hear nothing). right when he’s opening his bottle of sake, he hears squealing through the walls. when you start monologuing about whatever you’d received in the mail, he just decides to quit and go to bed. 

❥ sanzu isn’t sure how, but you have somehow made it your routine to follow him places whenever you ran into him. he also isn’t sure why he continuously allows you to tag along with him, but as long as it doesn’t affect his work, he doesn’t really care. 

❥ you’re always talking about something; the weather, your coworker’s strange behavior the other day, or the stray cat you saw in the alleyway that ran away. there are times when he tunes out your talking and uses it as white noise, but you never seemed to get upset at the fact that he visibly is zoning out. 

❥ after a while, he gets used to your constant presence around him, so much so that he finds it strange to not hear your excited yammering while he’s at work, (although he supposes he wouldn’t want to have that constantly in his ear while he’s doing ‘business’ with someone). 

❥ the one thing that gets the attention of the rest of the bonten executives is when he suddenly stops going to the clubs, leaving whatever work he had there for during the day when it was barren. it was such a drastic change in behavior; sure, sanzu was never the type to be obsessed with the scantily dressed girls in the club, but he was known for taking some home every once in a while. at the very least, he was known for getting various types of substances from sketchy dealers who frequently attended. what’s even stranger to everyone is the fact that he slowly starts to engage in less substances, (though he still does every once in a while) which is what rings the alarm bells. 

“oi, sanzu.” “what do you want, ran? i’m fuckin’ busy.”  “well, it can wait. the fuck’s been up with you lately? you’ve been acting weird as shit.” “so?”  “so, what the hell’s been up with you?” “none of your goddamn business, that’s what.”  “woahh, easy there, man. seriously, somethin’ bothering you?”  “i said it’s nothing, so drop it.”

❥ by the time he realizes what he’s been doing, it’s too late for him. you and your talkative self have wiggled their way into his heart, setting up camp to stay for a while. he had a glimpse of a thought of it when ran was confronting him, but he immediately pushed it out of his mind because how could that possibly be true? 

❥ it can’t be true, even if he unwillingly likes to think about it now. he can’t let himself think about it; you were one of the most strange yet innocent and pure people he’s ever met, so how could he willingly taint you with someone like himself? no, he wouldn’t let it happen.

❥ and just like that, everything seems to be back to normal for him. he goes to the club even more than he did before, and the amount of substances he uses seems to increase exponentially by the week. he begins to sleep on the couch in his dingy office instead of going home so that he doesn’t run into you, only going home for the bare essentials every couple days, (and even then, he leaves after just a few minutes). 

❥ it’s just his luck that he gets out of his car the moment you turn the corner onto the apartment building’s block, seeing him in plain sight as he freezes for a moment. and then he unfreezes because 1.) why is he of all people scared to run into you? he’s a bonten executive, he’s killed people before, so why was his heart beating so fast right now? and 2.) he needs to get away from there. right now. 

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

“hey!! not so fast, haruchiyo!!” you shout, your steps hastening as you try to catch up with him. sanzu can hear your steps behind him, but his long legs give him the advantage as he quickly ducks into the apartment building, smashing the elevator button and tapping his foot as it decides to be as slow as it possibly can be. 

he lets out a ‘tsk!’ sound when he notices you enter the building, promptly looking away from you and looking cooly at the blinker indicating what level the elevator was on, (can this thing move faster?!). 

“stop ignoring me!! where have you been?!” you questioned, your voice a mix of worry and anger. “i’ve been knocking on your door everyday with no response!! i know you don’t particularly like me, but you’re the only person who doesn’t walk away from me, so could you at least give me a reason that you suddenly started avoiding me?!” 

“...’m not avoiding you.” sanzu doesn’t know what to do right now; he’s never seen you angry like this before. typically, he would care less about the feelings of some random person like you, but for some reason the hurt in your voice makes him unusually unsure of himself. 

you scoffed at his lame excuse, rolling your eyes. 

“look! you’re trying to avoid me right now with elevator! seriously, can you just tell me what i did? i won’t do it again, i swear! just stop avoiding me!” 

“fuck, it’s not you!” sanzu suddenly said, his voice strained. “i’m just busy, okay?! you’re better off being friends with someone else.” 

“but you’re already my friend!! why don’t you want to keep talking to me??” sanzu ignored your words, his gaze staring straight ahead at the doors of the elevator, his stare so intense that you could almost think he was trying to open it telepathically. “hey!! can you just answer the damn question already, haruchiyo?!” 

“why do you need to know so fuckin’ badly?! i just said i’m busy!!” 

“because! i like you!” you yelled, your eyes seeming to get a bit watery. “and i know you don’t like me and that’s fine but i just want to be able to talk to you and see you sometimes, but now you’re always gone and i don’t know when you’re going to come back and it scares me! i just-” 

sanzu cut off your words, promptly stepping in front of you and slipping his hand behind your head, slamming his lips into yours. he’s not even sure himself why he did something stupid like this, especially when the whole reason he was avoiding you was because of his own flaws, but he couldn’t help himself when he heard you being so cute and worried over him, (seriously, how was he supposed to resist something like that?). 

it obviously took you off guard at first, but sanzu made sure you quickly realized what was going on, his mouth desperately pressing against yours. his kiss was rough but passionate, his lips moving quickly against yours as he pulled you closer to him, his other hand sliding around you to rest on the small of your back, (he’s doing it purely out of instinct; he hasn’t really thought about how he had been avoiding you for this very reason). 

a small ding! from the elevator grabs your attention, making you push him off of you as someone comes out from the elevator, glancing at the two of you a bit suspiciously before walking out of the building, leaving both of you in silence. 

“uh…wanna go to the convenience store for snacks…?”

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

❥ it took a little bit for sanzu to open up to you about anything even a little bit, but once he did, you were able to figure him out pretty quickly, especially when he’d finally decided to be truthful about his actual profession, (bro does not work an office 9-5). due to all of this, it’s easy to tell that sanzu has a lot of issues, but it wasn’t something that you weren’t willing to work through with him!

❥ the two of you are the definition of black cat and golden retriever! you are always excited about everything and are taking him to all the cool and trendy places on dates while he is more quiet, keeping close to your side and watching everything with a careful eye, (especially people he defines as creeps, i.e. people who look at you for more than 0.2 seconds). 

❥ date wise, he is usually following your lead. he doesn’t have the slightest clue about what you think it romantic, so it will usually be you planning outings for the two of you. a lot of times he will complain about being tired and not wanting to go out, but don’t worry, he’s completely lying; he just thinks it’s cute when you whine and pull his arm asking him to come out with you. 

❥ despite the fact that he is not the most romantic guy, he does a lot of romantic things without realizing. he enjoys sending you your favorite flowers when you’re at work or staying at home while he’s at work, sending cute little notes along with them, (well, you think they are pretty cute). 

i think you like these ones. -h be ready by seven. wear something you feel good in. -h sorry i didn’t buy milk. there’s frozen waffles in the freezer. -h

❥ sanzu does a lot of those little things for you too; opening doors for you, pulling chairs out for you, taking things out of your hands when you’re carrying a lot, etc. it doesn’t seem like he’s the type to do things like this, but it’s because he isn’t the type to do it. he only does it for you, and he himself doesn’t even know why he does these things, (he’s head over heels in love with you, but in no universe will he ever actually admit that). 

❥ the most protective over you, and a little possessive too. he doesn’t control everything that you do, but he likes to have a clear-cut plan of everything you do on a normal day so that his mind is put at ease, (also so he can known when something is wrong). he won’t tell you this, but he has someone assigned to keeping an eye on your as you go about your day because he’s extremely paranoid that somebody from an opposing gang will try and come after you. he would prefer if he could by your side himself, but it’s the next best option, (he still sends frequent texts and calls you throughout the day to make sure everything is well). 

❥ the possessive part of him comes out more when he thinks people are hitting on you, (they really are just being nice; he’s just a little bit crazy…he loves you though!!). he doesn’t hesitate to slide his long arms all around you, letting you continue talking while he makes a deadly eye contact with the person, his face twisted in mild disgust as if he were looking down at a cockroach, (he’s mastered this expression somehow). he knows that you enjoy talking with people so he won’t keep you from doing so, but in the process he will make sure that everybody knows you’re his. 

❥ sanzu’s not the most affectionate person there is, but he is affectionate when he wants to be. there are times when he’ll come home and not say a word, just wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head in the crook of your neck, mumbling something about having a terrible day. really, he just becomes a big baby when he’s like that, laying his lanky limbs all over you and claiming that he’s ‘recharging’. 

❥ it’s hard to label sanzu as an extrovert/introvert, since it can really depend on what mood he’s in and the situation. he’s more of an introvert in public settings with other people, (he doesn’t know how to interact nicely with people he doesn’t know) but when he’s with a majority of people he knows, he turns into more of an extrovert which matches with your energy quite nicely. 

❥ unintentionally, there comes a time when you accidentally get to meet the rest of his coworkers. it happened when they were dropping him back off at home after a night at the club and you’d had to come get him from the car because of how inebriated he was. 

“woah, you’re (y/n), huh?”  “oh, yes! it’s nice to meet you! you all must work with haru, right? please continue to take good care of him! would you like to come inside for a snack or some water?”  “...dude, what the fuck.”  “how the hell did he bag someone like that?!” 

❥ safe to say, they are all extremely shocked, (they never would have thought that someone like sanzu would be dating someone as sweet and talkative as you). the next day when he gets into work, he’s immediately hounded with all types of questions surrounding you and how the two of you started to date. 

“holy shit, is that why you were acting crazy a few months ago?!”  “i wasn’t acting fuckin’ crazy?!” “sanzu, you’re the craziest person here, and you started acting normal!! that was crazy!!” 

❥ after that, he makes sure that his associates never get to see you again, (“hey, bring your pretty lil thing around sometime!”, “i would rather kill you right now.”).

[queermania]

I don't want to start drama and I don't expect you to respond to this but I think you deserve to know what's being said about you. tumblr. com/transfagbenny/738678589192552448/and-id-appreciate-if-we-stopped-using-the-terms

i actually am going to address this because this person has been lying about what's been going on for months and they've apparently been harassing other people for months if not years, so. it's time to put an end to this.

before i start though i want to make it abundantly clear that if you take this as an opportunity to do anything other than block this person, then you are trash. do not send him messages. do not tag him in things. do not harass him in any way. leave him alone. if you need to block, do so and then move on. hate mail and harassment is disgusting behavior and i don't want to be surrounded by anybody who engages in it. and if you do it on my behalf, i think you are worthless and i want nothing to do with you.

so, this is what happened: back in february of 2023, an anon asked me if i had any opinions that would get me canceled with the dean girlies. i replied, "oh now we’re talking!! hmmmm let’s see. i don’t care about benny at all. deanbenny does nothing for me. deanbenny is dust. it is dust. drowley rights forever" and i did not tag it because i'm not an asshole. bear then sent me a message that at the time i thought was funny/cute because his url reflected that he was obviously a huge benny fan. we had a very cordial exchange. everything was good. we chatted a little bit about how neat it would've been if benny had been played by a black actor and how the racism problem with gordon would've been fixed if gordon had been played by a white actor. not all of our conversation is visible anymore (and i also don't think all of it was on this post anyway) because i've since blocked him so his replies no longer show up on my posts. the point is: everything was fine. it was a good tumblr exchange. he continued to follow me. i did not follow him then or at any point.

the problem is that he kept coming onto my posts and into my inbox to try to make things about benny. that is not okay. i had already said that benny was a character (and deanbenny a ship) that i was not interested in. to me, this is an obvious boundary i've established that he repeatedly crossed. it's not an egregious violation, obviously. more than anything it's annoying. what he should've done, if benny was that important to him, was unfollow me and move on. but he didn't and i indulged him for awhile but at a certain point i thought, "okay maybe if i stop indulging him, he'll take the hint." so i stopped responding. he did not take the hint. he got worse and he even started commenting on things that he couldn't make about benny, just to willfully misinterpret things i said and taking them completely out of context. unfortunately, i don't have receipts for any of this because at the time i didn't know it was going to become an actual problem (however I have since learned that this is an established pattern of behavior he engages in, so you can probably find examples on other people's blogs).

it got so annoying, though, that i very carefully broached the subject in a private server with people i trusted. without naming any names or using any incriminating language (i.e. not specifically referencing benny), i basically said that there was someone being annoying about a specific character on my posts and i wasn't sure what to do about it. immediately, a handful of people replied with some variation of "the benny stan? he's been doing that to me too." i do have receipts of this (and an entire server to back me up) but i hope you can all understand why i'm not going to provide those or name names (or ask anyone to get involved publicly). the point is, it became apparent that i wasn't the only one and this was a pattern of behavior. i also learned during that conversation that bear has a history of harassing people and calling someone racist or a transphobe if they block him.

at that point, i decided not to rock the boat. i would just continue to ignore him and maybe he would get bored and move on. well that obviously didn't happen. he kept doing it and as a fun added bonus, he started to make vague posts about me. the thing is i don't actually care if he vagueblogs about me. it's his blog. he can do whatever he wants. it's none of my business. i mean i personally think he should've just unfollowed but, again, his blog, his choice. it is annoying that every single time he would do it, someone would send me a link or a screenshot of him doing it, but that's not really his fault. so, again, i just ignored it.

this is where we get to the incident in question. after a private discussion among a small group of friends, i posted this obviously joke poll at the insistence of @letterstothedevil, a tumblr user who has given me permission to include her in this.

the original message about the poll:

the permission:

now EYE think it's abundantly clear that the poll was a joke amongst friends, but maybe it wasn't, and i'm not going to fault anyone for not magically knowing that. i am, however, totally willing to fault someone for being a gigantic asshole. bear commented on the post and i, admittedly, gave a somewhat dismissive response because at that point i was so tired of him being willfully obtuse and twisting every little thing i said that i just didn't want to bother. he then went and made a series of not-at-all-vague posts calling me racist and claiming that i simply do not care about the racism in the show and it's obvious because i've never ever discussed it on my blog (which is a hilarious lie given that i'd specifically discussed it on my blog with him). at that point, there was no reason not to block him. he was already doing the thing that i didn't want to deal with. so i did. and i thought that would be the end of it.

again, i was wrong.

i then started to get anon messages daily about benny and deanbenny and how i'm racist for not liking benny, etc. this was harassment that EYE was on the receiving end of. nobody else was a victim of the messages i was being sent. they were sent to me and it is not my job to make sure other people are protected from the harassment that i am experiencing. i'm pointing this out for two reasons: 1. because i did try to protect bear from it for awhile anyway. i knew that people would assume it was him and at the time i was still giving him the benefit of the doubt, if for no other reason than the fact that i didn't think he could send me messages since i blocked him. and 2. because when i did finally start to respond to some of the messages, bear acted like he was somehow the victim in all of this (and continues to act that way to this day).

i don't know if bear had (or currently has) anything to do with any of the messages i get (which, thankfully, have slowed considerably). what i do know is that at no point during any of this happening did he stop looking at my blog and vagueblogging about me.

when i finally did answer a few of the messages, bear had a bit of a meltdown about it. i know this because he used a separate account that i hadn't know existed to message me and because he talked to one of my friends about it. (i'm not going to name that person but if they want to get involved publicly of their own accord, that's up to them lol). i'm also not going to share screenshots of what bear said to me because he explicitly asked me not to (it's also the reason i'm not sharing screenshots of the numerous receipts i have of the things he's said and lied about on his blog but, unless he's deleted any of them, you can go and find the posts yourselves.) what i am going to share is that in the message he sent to me, he flat out lied about his behavior. he told me he hadn't been vague-blogging about me, that he would never ever do that about anyone, and that he would certainly never harass someone (all things that i have receipts of him doing).

it took me awhile to respond to this message because i was still trying to be gracious about the whole situation. i recognize that he is much younger than i am and i think it's important for me, as a full blown adult, to take that into account. i had a private discussion with a few trusted friends about how to handle this because it was important to me to not let him off the hook for his behavior and for lying just because he's young. this is what i ended up saying:

his response was to double-down on his lies (while, hilariously, vague-blogging about me and the whole thing) and then go into victim mode about something so completely unrelated and far-fetched that i decided i simply wanted nothing to do with him ever. (this is when he asked me not to share screenshots, so i won't, but this is me saying that i have ALL of the receipts, bear, so if you continue to lie, you will not like what happens.) i blocked his alternate account and tried to ignore him.

the harassment continued. again, i have no idea if he was actually part of it. the vagueblogging continued. he started to do it to other people he associated with me. many of them blocked him because of his behavior. i continued to answer some of the hate i received, continued to ignore and/or block most of it. it got so bad that i was sent seizure bait on more than one occasion, one time bad enough that i actually ended up going to the ER. there are receipts of all of this, too. you can see on my blog the messages i've been sent. i think at one point i even shared a snapshot of what my inbox looked like. i've shared privately with friends (who can confirm if they want to, but no pressure) screenshots of the kinds of messages i get that i don't respond to. the point is, that for a period of months, i was relentlessly harassed. and at no point during this time did i say anything to or about bear (or anyone else). the most i've done is respond to messages that have been sent to me. i've largely sat quietly while this thing happened to me and bear continued to make posts about me and act like he is somehow a victim in this. he's assumed things about me and my identity. he's violated boundaries i've set. he will not let this go. and i'm not the only one he's doing it to.

i'm so fucking tired of it. leave me alone. leave my blog alone. leave my friends alone. leave any and all of the people who have blocked you for your own inappropriate and obnoxious behavior alone. that's it. that's the end. none of this would be happening if you would just respect other people's boundaries. i don't want you on my blog. i do not want to interact with you. i don't want anything to do with you. that's it. the end.

[nebulousbrainsoup]

I’ve had this thought in my mind for a while and even at work I just couldn’t get it out of my head so I was wondering if you can write a Hongjoong smut and include the reader leaving kisses (maybe some hickeys) on Hongjoong’s “NO1LIKEME” tattoo, and that just making joong go ballistic and messing up the reader (in a good way ofc)☺️🫶

ohhhhh nonnie. yes, yes, 1000x yes you absolutely can. as someone who loves having their tattoos traced and such, you have my heart for this request. i'm smooching you on the forehead (with ur consent). i'm so very sorry this took so long my dear, but i hope you enjoy!

Mine

PAIRING: boyfriend!hongjoong x fem bodied!reader (no pronouns used) GENRE: smut, fluff TAGS/WARNINGS: established relationship, hongjoong's tattoo, no use of y/n, quick edit, the rest are under the cut~ WORD COUNT: 2.5k of mostly filth!

nsfw tags under the cut ; masterlist | join my taglist | buy me a coffee?

this work is 18+. this is a friendly reminder that if i catch a minor interacting with this work, they will be blocked. so don't :)

divs from @cafekitsune

NSFW TAGS/WARNINGS: pwp, pet names (love, dollface, little dove, angel), hickeys, thigh riding, edging, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex (boo 👎), possessive!joong strikes again, creampie; lmk if i missed any

It had begun innocently enough. You were laid out across the couch with your head in Hongjoong’s lap, the most recent episode of what you two had deemed your show playing on the TV. He was enthralled, eyes glued to the screen, stomach twitching with his gasps and fist clenching the cushions every time something big happened. Your gaze, however, had been locked onto the black calligraphy etched into his skin, “NO1LIKEME” on display for anyone who dared think otherwise. The seasons were changing, the weather just this past month turning warm enough to force your boyfriend out of his sweaters and hoodies and, just as you had every year since he got it, you found yourself obsessing over his tattoo.

Thoughtlessly, you reached up, your fingers barely coming in contact with the ink before he jumped slightly, and you jerked your hand back. “S-Sorry.” You huffed a laugh, turning back to the TV to hide your visible embarrassment.

To your surprise, he let out a quiet giggle, and you glanced back up to find a curious half-smile on his face. “It’s okay," he reassured, “I just wasn’t expecting it.” You nodded slightly dismissively, lost in your own little world of mortification. Of all the things for him to catch you ogling, it was his tattoo. How weird did he think you were, now? 

Before you could delve too far down that particular shame-filled rabbit hole, a weight settled on your stomach, yanking you out of your spiral. Hongjoong’s hand had dropped from the couch, and when you tossed a confused look in his direction, you were met with a warm, reassuring smile. “Now you don’t have to reach up as far,” he muttered, giving your hip a squeeze before turning back to your show. The heat that had risen to your cheeks amplified as you blinked up at him in mild shock. 

When you reached up again, you caught his eyes flickering your way, and you could have sworn his arm shifted toward you, but he didn’t pull away this time. Gingerly, your fingers brushed over the line of text, one after the other, up and back down his inner arm. You felt his muscles twitch under the attention, his fingers tapping out the energy you were filling him with as you set his nerves alight. You smiled softly, sneaking one more glance to his face before all your focus shifted entirely back to the characters curling up over his bicep, touch remaining feather-light as you resolved to trace each one. The little jolts that shook his arm only grew in intensity as you continued your ministrations, entranced by every curve and line, lips parted in awe. 

The first quiet, nearly imperceptible change in his breathing was the little gasp left him when you were halfway through, your fingertip dancing over the loops dotting the ‘I.’ He shifted under you and you snuck a glance up to his face again and, finding his eyes still glued to the TV screen, you let your fingers continue their journey. The second came shortly thereafter, a ragged sigh leaving him when your touch left his skin just long enough to shift from the first ‘E’ to the ‘M,’ and this time he shifted with it, sitting up straighter and forcing your head closer to his knees. When you glanced up, you caught his gaze flickering away, eyelids hooded and plush lips parted as he turned back to the screen. 

You bit back the sly grin that threatened to break over your face, taking your time drawing over the last two letters before letting your hand fall back to your side. He let out another shaky breath, glancing down to flash you a slight smile. “Have fun?” You nodded, and his warm smile spread. “Good. It’s there any time you want it.”

His hand left your hip to reach for the couch cushions again, but before he could stray too far, you caught his wrist and flashed him a playful glare.

“I wasn’t done,” you huffed, earning a quiet giggle from him. 

“Okay, okay, go ahead.”

You grinned, shifting to sit up and watching with glee as his face shifted to confusion. You’d settled cross-legged, your back turned to the TV as you draped his arm over the back of the couch, returning it to its original position. Hongjoong had turned his attention from the show to you, following your movements with a confused, crooked smile. You flashed him an impish grin, trailing your fingers up and down his skin once more, delighting in the way his gaze darkened and he sighed. Barely managing to tear your eyes away from his face, you zeroed in on your next point of focus while your thumb swirled around it—the face doodled into the ‘O.’ 

Before he could protest, your head darted down, lips pressing against it. You felt him jerk underneath you, the couch cushions shifting beside you as he moved closer. Grinning against his skin, you let yourself wander, pressing increasingly open-mouthed kisses over the tattoo. You could feel him inching closer, each one making his arm twitch underneath you and pulling a quiet noise from him. Your eyes slipped shut as you drank them in, as you drank him in, your kisses lingering and your teeth beginning to graze his skin lightly. He hissed quietly with the first pinch, and you giggled to yourself, soothing the pain with your tongue. 

The feeling of his free arm wrapping around your waist made you jump, turning to find his face mere centimeters from your own with a dangerous fire sparking to life in his eyes. 

“What do you think you’re doing, love?”

You met him with that same impish grin he always wanted to wipe off of your face. “Having fun.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes with an amused smile, and if you hadn’t already decided on your next course of action, you would have right then and there. Flashing him a glare and a disgruntled frown, you leaned back down to his arm, sinking your teeth into the bare skin below the crossbar of the ‘K.’ Hongjoong jolted under you, his muscles tensing and a choked off groan falling from his lips as you sucked and bit at it, your tongue following closely behind to lessen the sting. When you sat back on your heels again, the pretty pink spot left behind had you beaming with pride, and you darted down to press another kiss over it. 

Before you could give anywhere else the same treatment, his grip on the cushions released and his hand snapped up, quickly fisting into the hair at your nape to pull you into a bruising kiss. Your noise of surprise was muffled by his lips and you melted into him, hands planting themselves firmly on his shoulders. His free arm wrapped its way around your waist and he tugged at you, guiding you to straddle his thigh. You were both breathless when he pulledyou back, lips red and swollen and eyes already glazing over. 

“You really like my tattoo, huh?” he breathed, letting his right arm fall back against the couch. Immediately, your eyes zeroed back in on the ink, and you nodded. “Give it some more attention, then, dollface. Show me how much you love it.”

The grin fixed on his face made your stomach flip, a pleasant mixture of anticipation and arousal lighting through you. Biting your lip, you nodded, attention turning back to the text curling up his bicep. After pressing a kiss to the mark you had already left, you quickly shifted to dot the ‘I’ with a mark of your own making, sucking and lapping at Hongjoong’s skin. The quiet sighs he let out were music to your ears, and you spared a glance toward him, catching his gaze as you found it fixed solidly on you. The corner of his mouth ticked back into that signature smirk of his and you felt his thigh twitch under you, your breath catching in your throat. You paused your work, pulling back with a satisfying pop to face him better. 

His smirk dropped, one eyebrow raising, and he relaxed again. “Done already?”

Heat and nerves coiled in your gut as he stared you down and you floundered for a response, shaking your head silently. Hongjoong always had a way of making you feel small with only a single look, like a mouse caught between a cat’s claws. Slowly, he let his eyes trail back to his tattoo, then back to your face. With a shaky sigh as your mind went a little hazy and lust-clouded, you returned your lips to his skin, resolving to trace every inch of the ink with your tongue. It only took seconds this time for his thigh to flex under you again, and you whined, grinding down against him. His quiet little giggle graced your ears and his free hand settled on your hip, encouraging you to continue your movements. With a soft whine, you complied, hips rolling against him. 

It was only a few short minutes before your arousal had you abandoning your work halfway through, moving instead to press open-mouthed kisses over his skin, nipping at it every so often. You could hear his breathing becoming increasingly ragged as you too became more desperate, the soft whimpers and sighs you let out becoming more frequent as he toyed with you. They were music to his ears and, when coupled with the feeling of your lips worshiping his skin and the sight of you rutting against him, he could feel his own arousal quickly becoming unbearable. A particularly hard bite had him groaning openly and his thigh pressing harder against your aching cunt as his hips sought friction. You released him, throwing your head back with a moan, and he took the opportunity to grab a fistful of your hair again. 

In a matter of seconds, Hongjoong had you face down against the couch, his fingers curling under the waistband of both your lounge shorts and your underwear. With one swift tug, you were left exposed to both the cold air and his hungry gaze. He let out a pleased sigh, one finger coming up to trace lightly between your folds, and a quiet giggle left him as he pulled it back, taking in the slick already coating it.

“Needy for me already,” he purred, and you nodded into the cushions, letting one of your legs fall from the side of the couch to spread yourself further for him. 

Leaning down, he lapped a fat stripe over you, earning a choked, breathy moan. Humming happily, he quickly dropped back down to your clit, lips quickly closing around the sensitive bud. You cried out as he sucked harshly on it, hands stretching out in front of you in search of anything more substantial to grab onto. He quickly shifted up, and you sighed in relief, eyes slipping shut as he began to work you open on his tongue—not that you needed the prep. You would never complain about the magic your boyfriend worked with his tongue, though, your hips rocking back eagerly against his face as you let out little whimpers and sighs. 

When he pulled away with one last lingering suck to your clit, you let out a keen he wanted on a recording, playing on loop in his ears. Sighing contentedly, he pressed one last kiss to the sensitive bundle of nerves and sat back on his heels, promptly shoving his sweats down his thighs. You had barely recovered from the second high he’d dangled just out of your reach when you felt the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance, and your whines pitched up again, hips nudging back toward him. He pressed into you in one fluid motion, both of you letting out heady moans—you at the fullness of him, and Hongjoong at the way your walls hugged him. 

Once you had both had a moment to adjust, he pulled his hips back and snapped into you, the suddenness pulling a shout from your throat. He chuckled as he leaned over you and grabbed another handful of your hair, bracing himself on his right arm and forcing your gaze onto the marks you had left. He held his hips still as he pressed his back against yours, lips finding the skin just below your ear. 

“I’m yours,” he muttered against your skin, tugging at your hair lightly. 

A lazy smile spread across your lips and you nodded, committing the sight of his tattoo, painted with your marks, to memory. He laughed quietly at your already fucked out state, the noise sending electricity lighting down your spine. Without warning, he sank his teeth into your skin, pulling it between his teeth, sucking and laving at it enough that you were sure the mark he’d left would be a deep purple in the morning.

“And you’re mine, my little dove. Now sing for me.”

Pressing one last kiss to the mark he’d left, Hongjoong straightened back up, quickly setting into a brutal pace. Your quiet sighs and breathy whines were traded for full-throated moans and needy keens as he railed into you, one hand still in your hair while the other rested firmly on your hip. Each snap of his hips against yours punched another unfiltered sound or curse from you and you melted under him, back arching further into the couch below you. The shift had his cock dragging across your sweet spot with every stroke and you cried out his name, the high you’d lost building rapidly.

“Cum for me, angel,” he managed, pace picking up that much more as he began to use you to chase his own high. 

Only seconds more passed before you were unraveling around him, walls spasming and pulling him in tighter. A drawn-out groan was forced out of him as he fucked you through it, hips stuttering as his own climax washed over him like a wave. He bottomed out within you and you sighed happily, your own orgasm prolonged as thick ropes of his release painted your insides white. You were sated, full of him, surrounded by Hongjoong, a blissful smile gracing your features as you let yourself bask in the afterglow, floating somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness.

You were vaguely aware of movement in your peripheral when you came to again, and a shiver lit down your spine. You were cold, lonely and empty; but in a moment warmth and a familiar scent of home surrounded you, and your sleepy smile returned. Your eyes blinked open to find Hongjoong’s arms wrapped firmly around you. A few of the marks you’d left were visible from this angle, and you let out a pleased hum, leaning forward to press a kiss to one of them.

“Mine,” you sighed, and felt the little giggle that shook his chest.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to the space below your ear, echoing quietly, “Mine.”

TAGLISTS [all open]: permanent: @justhere4kpop @tastymintchocolate @soul-jae ateez: @pyeonghongrie-main @thatonenoona

© June 2023 nebulousbrainsoup | all rights reserved. do not copy, repost or translate my work.

[includedisco]

Title: Softer Side of Strength

Characters: Fadel, Style, Bison, (mention of)Kant

Pairing: FadelStyle, KantBison

Fandom: The Heart Killers

Tags: Fluff, Romance, injury, mild depiction of violence, mild hurt/comfort, Fadel being a caring boyfriend, heartwarming, oneshot, POV alternating, Established Relationship, Post-canon

warnings: none

Word Count: 2,449

Summary: When a romantic evening turns violent, Style's injury brings out Fadel's unexpectedly tender side

A/N:

This is just a fluffy story about Style being injured and Fadel stepping up as his boyfriend; also featuring Fadel being protective of Style. Of course Style mentions pregnancy because I am the author and I want Style to mention pregnancy.

 I took the fight scene from THK episode 3, remixed it and wrote this story around it.

Hi guys. I hope everyone is doing great on this THK day. Enjoy this read. I'm ever so thankful for your support<3

-

Style and Fadel step out of the concert venue, laughing and happy, holding hands. Stopping under the glow of a streetlamp, they pause, pull each other close to savor the present; noses gently touching, playfully chasing each other's lips, and smiling deeply into each other's eyes.

Suddenly, someone bumps into Fadel hard, almost toppling him over.

"Hey, watch it!" the stranger snarls, glaring at them.

Style immediately responds, stepping back from Fadel a bit to face the stranger, "You should watch where you're going!"

The guy, clearly drunk replies, “You were standing in the way.”

“This entire pavement doesn’t belong to you.” Style fires back. “Just apologize when you’re wrong.”

“For what? What’s your problem?’

 “You have no manners.”

“Watch what you say to me, bro.” The stranger visibly gets aggravated and steps closer to Style, his face inches away.

Fadel steps in between them. "Back off," he says firmly to the stranger, annoyed that someone is getting all up in Style’s face. But before he can say more, the stranger's friends join the fray, and soon a fight breaks out.

"I'll handle this, step away" Fadel instructs his boyfriend. But Style, stubborn as ever and worried that Fadel might get hurt, tries to help. In the scuffle, someone shoves him hard, and he lands on the pavement, his arm taking the brunt of the fall. A sharp crack and searing pain shoots through him.

Fadel hears Style's scream and turns, his heart clenching when he sees Style writhing in pain on the pavement. Fadel makes quicker work of handling the fight so he can get to Style.

He rushes to Style's side afterwards. "Are you okay?"

Style, clutching his right wrist, winces. "My arm. I think I broke it."

Without waiting another moment, Fadel helps Style to his feet and leads him to their car. Ignoring the commotion still brewing, Fadel drives Style to the hospital, his mind focused only on getting him the care he needs.

At the hospital in the ER, Fadel stands close by, watching as Style chats away with the doctor that’s treating him. Style wailed a lot on the way here and so Fadel was worried, but now he’s just left in awe of how quickly Style has bounced back from that after getting a shot for the pain.

Thankfully the diagnosis is that Style’s arm isn’t broken, but it’s rather just a bone bruise.  

The doctor merely replies to Style here and hums there with a small smile playing on her lips. Style even tells her the story of how the fight broke out and how cool Fadel looked fighting the guys off.

Fadel unexpectedly chuckles to himself at Style's colorful story, his excited hand gestures with his one good hand, and his exaggerated description of the fight scene.

"I'm pretty sure I didn't look that cool," Fadel cuts in.

"I'm describing what it looked like to me," Style retorts with a tiny frown between his eyebrows, clearly not appreciating being interrupted or negated.

Fadel fights a smile and the urge to roll his eyes at how adorable Style was being.

"You said that at one point the guy who started the fight claimed you talk too much?" the doctor starts. "I see what they meant." She glances at Fadel, hoping for him to agree.

Fadel scowls at her instead, making it clear that he’s not about to entertain that opinion. Style is not hers to criticize. He does indeed talk too much but it’s charming and-

-Oh fucking hell what has Style turned Fadel into?  He so damn smitten that his first instinct is to see the good in everything Style does and says.

The doctor awkwardly clears her throat under Fadel’s glare, and continues finishing up her job.

Style is all patched up and jump down from the bed. Fadel walks up to him. "How do you feel?"

"I’m okay."

"Good. Does this happen often? You getting into fights?"

"No, actually. It usually ends with a verbal confrontation."

"Try to stay out of trouble. Imagine if I hadn't been there tonight."

Style can imagine, and goodness, the horror. He lowers his gaze with a sigh, shaking his head. "My lovely face would have gotten pummeled."

Fadel doesn’t even acknowledge that remark. It’s plainly obvious to him by now how into his own look Style is. To be fair, Fadel is also into Style’s looks these days.

“This sling will distract from my stylish outfits, and not in a good way.” Style points out, going off in a long rant about it. Heaven help Fadel but he’s actually listening to this rant. He can’t find the words to comfort his boyfriend but he’s listening.

Style appreciates that much. He reaches up to cup Fadel’s jaw in the palm of his hand, turning Fadel’s face left to right in scrutiny, looking for any injuries or bruises. Fadel gently takes hold of Style’s wrist to slide his hand away.

“I’m fine.” He assures Style to quell the worry clearly written in his eyes, “Let’s get you home.” He takes Style’s hand and Style interlaces their fingers as they exit the ER.

-Follow link to read the rest of the story on AO3.

[just-antithings]

UNDERAGE Teenagers at the Rayman fandom on twitter are making call out posts on porn accounts (some which contain graphic works) and rather than tell these teenagers they’re are far too young to be engaging with such works , antis in the fandom are instead shitting on the artists who made 18+ accounts with clear tags used for daring to draw Rayman engaging in anything more extreme than vanilla post marriage sex.

The Rayman fandom loves blaming Captain Laserhawk for the uptake in discourse/drama but the truth is for a long time the fandom has had an issue for making call outs on people just simply making porn. Apparently one artist known as Raywindly was a horrible transphobe but her entire call out was exclusively focused on her having liked rape fanfics. Said call out was written by someone who was outed for being a hentai fan.

A more recent example is one from January where an artist called radomartist made a “good pup” au where Mr Dark keeps Rayman as a sex slave. The call out on them , which feature their porn being reposted, talked about radomartist sexaulising Rayman as a child. But in the good pup au Rayman is an adult. These antis made an entire thread , reposted porn they thought was that of a child character to an audience of actual minors and didn’t even get that piece of information correct.

The antis in this fandom basically encourage this behaviour of reposting porn where MINORS can see it instead of just blocking, they encourage spreading misinformation before even doing the bare minimum of fact checking, which is going to make it so much easier for actual predators to hide in the fandom. It’d be less stressful for everyone if they just told each other in PRIVATE about artists who make stuff that makes each other uncomfortable.

“Oh but the art was illegal-“ Then why have ”illegal art” saved to your own hard drives?! And then share it?! To actual children and teenagers?!

Would you do that if those were images of an actual human child being abused?!

I’m sorry if this came across as aggressive, but it genuinely pisses me off how these people preach “protect children!” When in actuality they’re just creating an environment that’s going to push vulnerable children and teens into the arms of the very predators they’re trying to fight against.

I have blocked the antis but I feel even doing that has put a target on my back so I hope it’s okay I vented about this here.

Happy Easter and trans visibility day 🩷🩵🤍🩵🩷

.

[miraakulous-cloud-district]

WYGTYA lines

@sheirukitriesfandom tagged me in this most wonderful tag game and I am so happy! Thank you for the tag :D Since WYGTYA is my longest work, I'm going to include lines from this fic of mine that I love so very much <3

A line from your fic that makes you laugh (not really a line, but it made me laugh while I wrote chapter 13)

“What on Nirn is a rock’s weakness?” He asks, casting a calm spell to no avail.

“Scissors?” Ravonna responds, chuckling.

“You think this is a good time for jokes? Master Neloth is going to kill me if he finds out!” 

“Scissors, that’s it! Big sword!” she says, the lightbulb of an idea almost visible above her head, making Talvas even more confused. 

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Wait here, I know just the thing!” She immediately levitates rapidly to the main tower, doing a backflip before entering.

"But paper beats rock!" Talvas shouts, but to no avail, Ravonna is already in the tower.

A line from your fic that makes you sad (of course it's a Miraak line, from chapter 6)

“I – yes. I just – ” but he has to turn around before the tears start falling down his cheeks. ‘Be a man’s man and don’t cry. Crying is for weaklings, you soft-hearted little boy! Why can’t you be like your brother? You’re a failure!’ his father’s words ring into his ears and he shivers, wanting nothing more than the earth to swallow him. And so he climbs the stairs as fast as he can and heads straight to his chamber. There, he can finally cry for hours.

A line from your fic you're proud of (not yet part of wygtya, but it will be, this is my Ralof/Hadvar ficlet, and I'm so proud of that watetfall metaphor)

“We were drunk and happy and we thought we had our whole life ahead of us.” Ralof begins, trying to be brave himself and just let his thoughts flow into words like a river turning into a waterfall

A line for your fic you think could have been better (There are a lot of things that could have been written better, but I refuse to beat myself too much over it and embrace the fact that I am evolving and I don't want to over analyse my old writing, so this is from chapter 1, I hate this because Hjaldir's story changed a bit over time! When I wrote this, it was all unclear, and so many things have changed since then, I'm hoping my version of him now isn't too far from this brief first description of him)

“Well, Inigo, it’s actually quite a funny story. Hjaldir turned out to be a runaway pirate. He ran away from his crew because he got tired of getting seasick and stealing from innocent people. So, one night, he just ran away. Decided to become a bard and make honest coin. Ended up at my dad’s tavern.”

A line from your fic that makes you want to punch a character (from chapter 12, DAMN IT, LUCIEN, THEY WERE HAVING A MOMENT)

“Am I… interrupting something?” Lucien asks. Right, Lucien. Fenrik’s almost forgotten about him. How could he not, when all he did was sleep his hangover off?

“No!” both Dragonborn respond at the same time, letting go of each others’ hands.

A line from your fic that makes you go 'aww' (from chapter 13, Ravonna trying her best to comfort Miraak is so precious to me, she is trying her best! And this is a big moment for her, to try to be so comforting to one person who once tried to kill her. It's a lot of progress and I feel like she can see their situation from a mature point of view and she can let go of the vengeance.)

“There we go.” she says as she gets a good look of Fenrik’s teary brown eyes. “Now listen to me: no one is upset with you. I’m starting to think that it’s impossible to be. You didn’t ruin anything, okay? The self-sacrificing healer in you got out. And that’s commendable. Now, please don’t cry because I have no idea what to do with someone who is crying.” She says, making him laugh the tears away. “You’re doing great. I mean, if you need to cry, just let it out, I’ll figure something out. Maybe sparkles? Everyone loves sparkles, right?” She makes small sparkles dance around her other hand

A line from your fic that's full of symbolism (from chapter 12, not sure if this classifies as symbolism, but the snake thing is something that I am so proud of)

"I still felt my soul in there, wrapped tightly in the threatening embrace of all those dragons’ souls. I felt it trying to fight it, to escape, like a small animal trying to escape the python snake’s fatal grip."

A line from your fic that contains an Easter egg (WWDITS reference with a medieval and lore-friendly name replacement! From chapter 3)

"His name was Mikael, if I recall correctly.”

“Fucking Mikael!” Ravonna says, full of spite.

A line from your fic that's shocking (from chapter 13, MIRAAK SAID HIS FIRST ON-SCREEN BAD WORD!! Everyone was shocked hahaha)

“Holy shit!” Fenrik says as they get closer to the Silt Strider, making Ravonna’s job to cheer up much easier. She turns to him with wide eyes, and then looks at the rest of the amused fellowship. Even Teldryn was struggling not to smile. 

A line from your fic you want to talk about more (from chapter 2, IT'S RUMCURIO, CAN WE PLEASE TALK ABOUT RUMCURIO I'M IN RAREPAIR HELL, MY FIC IS LITERALLY THE ONLY ONE WITH THE RUMARIN/MARCURIO TAG I'M GOING INSANE)

“Just come back alive, or I will kill you.” Marcurio says, his forehead resting against Rumarin’s, still pulling him down. It’s not the most comfortable position for Rumarin, but he won’t have it any other way. It makes him think, really. About all the ways he is going to kiss him as soon as he returns from Solstheim. 

Tagging my beloved fellow writer mutuals, only if you want to participate, of course! @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @thelavenderelf @mareenavee @dirty-bosmer @blossom-adventures @nerevar-quote-and-star and I'm also tagging @sheirukitriesfandom back to do this challenge!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Guiding Hand 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, parental neglect, depression, inference of self harm, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your online academics are affected by your personal struggles but your professor won’t let you give up so easy.

Characters: Raymond Smith, Lee Bodecker in the background

Note: I think my back is ok now.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Tuesday comes too quickly. You don’t sleep the night before. It’s more than just Lee and your mother arguing that keeps you awake. The anxiety of your meeting bears down on you like an open maw, ready to devour you.

You don’t expect it to go well. You’re not even sure why you’re doing it. 

That one thought repeats over and over. You don’t have to. You can cancel. You can make another excuse and stay a loser. That’s easy. Maybe that’s why it’s so scary. Because new things are hard. 

You languish in bed as the time ticks by. You got to get up and get moving. Soon, you’ll do something. Soon. 

You roil in the trepidation. Each move, each little thing, is a gargantuan task. You sneak out to wash your face and make yourself as presentable as you can. You waited too long. You have five minutes to put something on that isn’t wrinkled and stale. 

You put on a black sweatshirt, hoping the little balls of lint aren’t visible. Maybe you can get away with just turning the microphone on. You open the computer and shift in the chair. One minute. 

You find the email and scroll down to the link. You hover over it and stare. Noon on the dot. Your hand falters and you click the Zoom meeting. It opens in the browser and your breath traps in your chest.  

The little box in the corner is black as you leave the red line through the camera icon as the mic catches the rustle of your shirt. There’s a man on screen. He sits before an office backdrop but you can’t tell if its digitally generated or real. His blond hair is combed back and he sports a thick beard and glasses. He wears a wool sweater over a collared shirt and stares down the camera. 

“Hello,” he speaks, “anyone there?” 

You clear your throat and croak, nearly choking on your own spit.  

“Here,” you manage to squeak. 

“Ah, hello there, may I ask you turn your camera on?” His voice is low and lilted, almost smoky in a way. 

You hesitate and scratch your neck, letting your fingers wander up to your scalp. The itch spread, making sitting still unbearable. You wince as you hear someone in the kitchen, the fridge door closes heavily and a dish clinks on the counter. 

“Hello?” The voice comes again. 

You panic and hit the keyboard. You steady your hand and tap the camera, shying away as you slouch in your chair. The dim glow of your bedside lamp leaves you in shadow. Still, you feel exposed. 

“Better,” he says but with little enthusiasm, “well, I suppose we best get to the meat of things,” he adjusts his posture. 

“Okay,” you murmur and cross your arms, looking evasively at the wall. 

“Good to finally meet. I’m Professor Smith,” he introduces himself and calls you by name. 

“You too,” you utter out of courtesy. This is torture to you. 

“Now, you’ve done very well on your completed work,” his eyes scan as he looks at the screen before him, "you’ve shown improvement up until a few weeks ago. You do have a lot of potential to be successful here--” 

You nod and hunch down further. You just feel worse. You’re a lazy slob. You didn’t finish your work just like you never finish the laundry or cleaning your room. 

“Irene!” Lee’s voice booms on the other side of the wall and you wince, looking over your shoulder then back to the computer. You huddle closer, hoping he didn’t hear that. Your mother’s drone responds to the holler. 

“Perhaps it is the format? We could explore another option for your remaining assignments. I can accommodate where necessar--” 

“Fuck off!” Lee shouts and a loud bang hits the hallway wall. You gulp and your lips part. 

“Lee, please, I didn’t-- I wouldn’t--” 

“Should’ve known better than to trust a whore!” Lee barks. 

You cover your face and shrink down. No! Not now. 

“Is everything alright?” He asks and you separate your fingers, looking through them. You drop your hands and nod. 

“Sorry--” 

Another loud thump, this time against your door and your mother sobs loudly as she slides down the other side. You stammer and your lip trembles as you stare mortified at the lens in the frame of the laptop. This is awful. 

“What is happen--” 

You wiggle your fingers on the touchpad and hit End Call. You retract and wrap your arms around your head, folding over your lap as you rock. How humiliating. You can’t believe that happened. Well, you can. It’s what always happens. 

Your mother and Lee continue to argue, their fight just outside your door. You shake your head as you stay curled over. You don’t know why she does this. These men come around, call her names, knock her around, and she lets them come right back. 

A tinkling noise comes from the speaker. Professor Smith is calling you. You decline the call. An email chimes in at the corner. It’s from him as well. You see the preview, a response to his last email. 

‘Please respond or I will call authorities to confirm your saf....’ 

You click on the notification to expand the full message. You sigh and don’t bother reading the rest as you hit reply. 

‘Everything is fine. I will take the fail. Thank you.’ 

Another call comes in. Just leave me alone! You hit the red button again and delete his last email. And he calls again. Ugh. What does he care. You’re sure he has lots of students to worry about. Another email and another call. Back and forth until you accidentally hit the wrong key. 

He appears again, closer to the lens as his forehead lines, “hello, hey, hey,” he sits back, holding up a hand as you scramble, panicking as you fidget and try to figure out what to do, “don’t hang up, alright? Don’t, or I will be obligated to call the police.” 

As he commands you, your mother and Lee continue their sparring in the hall, voices raised though not as clear from the front room. You sniff and rub your cheek, soothing yourself as you bring up your other hand to chew on your sleeve. 

“Are you in danger?” He asked pointedly. You shake your head. “What is all that then?” 

He’s quiet and you are enveloped again in the chaos outside your room. You shrug and tilt your head to one side. You look down. 

“My mom...” 

He sighs, “look, I wouldn’t have taken the time to call if I didn’t think you could do this. Perhaps, this was the wrong avenue. So, is it possible we meet somewhere neutral. In person?” 

You shudder and sit up as much as you can, wringing your hands, “I... I... don’t drive.” 

“That’s alright, is there a library near you, yeah? I can find my way.” 

You frown and flick your lip under your teeth several times. You see yourself in the little box. You look scary as your eyes are pools of shadows. 

“Uh...” you pull your hands apart and open a new tab, happy to have your image off the screen. You type into the search. You think there’s a library close by. “Yes, um, there is...” 

“Send me the location. We’ll reschedule. When are you available? Thursday? I’m afraid tomorrow I’m booked up.” 

You switch back to the video call. You feel tears tightening your throat and ready to spring. You shake your head and paste the URL of the library branch into the chat. His eyes flit down to read it. 

“Thursday,” you repeat but it’s not as much a question as you mean. 

“Thursday is good. Can we do earlier? Ten?” He asks. 

You don’t know. You’re not used to making decisions. You don’t get asked for your preference ever. 

“Sure,” you answer, just wanting to end the call and hide in bed. 

“Alright, I’ll pencil you in,” he says, “shall I stay on the call until that...” he pauses as Lee continues to bluster, “subsides?” 

“No,” you shake your head. 

He stares at you, his forehead lined with disapproval. Why does he care so much? He doesn’t know you. 

“Are you certain?” He intones. 

You nod, “I have to go.” 

You end the call and shut the computer. Your stomach is a jumble and you’re jittering with adrenaline. All your life, you’ve hidden behind these walls; you’ve hidden all that goes on there. To have someone witness it is worse than the yelling and hitting itself. 

You ignore the chirp from the laptop and throw yourself into bed. Thursday. So, another torturous purgatory begins, waiting to face the professor and your incompetence once more. 

📓

Thursday comes too quickly. 

You sit in your room and convince yourself to go. It was easier when it was just a computer screen, though even that was difficult. Only for you because you’re so messed up. Because you can’t do anything. 

What else can you do? The whole night you were awake thinking about how you would tell your mother. If you flunk out, you default on the student loan and you’re even deeper in the pit. The true consequences of your laziness are clearer now and you can’t let your sloth bury you again. If you do, you may as well give up on everything. Even life itself. 

So, you have no choice. You’re being given a last chance. Again. You’d feel even worse for not taking it than you would for failing at it. 

You pull on a hoodie and grab your house key and your knapsack with your computer and notebook tucked inside. That’s all you really have. No phone, no wallet. Just the bare minimum.  

You shuffle to the door, standing just inside as you muster your courage. You check your digital watch, an old Casio you’ve had for years. The numbers are dim and hard to read in the dark. You have to get going. 

You emerge and go down to the kitchen to sneak a sip of water before you go. Your room is always so dry at night. You drain a glass and rinse it out, leaving it beside the sink. As you turn around, you hear your mother’s bedroom door and the slap of her slippers as she slinks in. 

“Ah, honey,” she smiles dopily. You can smell liquor from there. She might even still be drunk as her hangovers usually keep her abed. “There you are! Oh, gosh, are you going somewhere?” 

“Mm, library,” you answer, “for school.” 

“Oh, smart girl,” she slurs. You try to smile but it’s shaky and weak. Your mom tries, you know that, so you can’t hate her. “Can you stop by the shop on your way? I got a twenty. Wouldn’t mind some vodka.” 

You pick at a fingernail, “mom, I don’t... I don’t like buying that stuff.” 

“Mm, I know, but I...” she sways on her feet and belches into her fist, “never mind. I’ll just ask Lee when he comes by.�� 

“He’s coming?” You ask warily. 

“Sure, sure,” she turns and staggers to the fridge, “he must be missing me by now.” 

She bends, leaning on the door as she opens it, and peruses the mostly empty shelves. You leave her and go down the hall. You grab your shoes and slip them on, once more stopping at the threshold. Keep going. You made it this far. 

You let yourself out and lock the door behind you. You take the stairs down to the first level and continue out onto the street. You keep to the edge of the pavement as you weave around other pedestrians that pass. 

Your lips move as you recite the directions to yourself. You were sure to memorise the route as best as you could. You get turned around but right yourself and make it to the corner when you can see the grey brick of the library. 

You wait at the light before you cross and your heart begins to race the closer you get. Oh no, you don’t know if you can do this. You want to just run away. What if he sees you and changes his mind? I mean, look at you. You’re not some perky coed, you’re... you. 

You stare up at the facade and the large letters over the entrance. You take the first step, then the next. You focus on that. Right foot, left foot. Little things, one at a time. You can do this. You have to. 

[tired-demonspawn]

Okay uuuhh netflix avatar episode 1

i've got some thoughts which i think will be uuhhh reflected within the fandom? and the critiques? so i wanted to write them down

i might make other posts of this type after watching the other episodes (i'm watching it with friends and we only managed to watch the first one)(so i'm staying away from the tumblr tags for now cuz i dont want to be spoiled) but there's no guarantee

right off the bat i like that they are doing something "original". they're not just recreating the cartoon but in live action, certain details are changed and usually not for the worse(not for the better also but yknow they keep it same amount of nice)

i really like the bending so far, aside from the intro where they are??? cg??? for some reason??? (the people i mean ofc the bending is cgi)

expecially the earth bending, i'm half convinced the first scene was there only so the producers can go "see!!! its not like shyamalan!!! our earthbending actually looks good!!! no more 5 guys dancing haka to lift one rock!!!! see!! see!!!"

i like that they showed the attack on the air temple, what i didnt like was that while yes, sozins comet was visible, they didnt do the cool artsy turning-the-sky-red thing. i kinda missed it i really liked it in the show.

also the fire benders... dont seem all that empowered by it??? like i dunno man the amount of flames they were spewing in the rest of the episode was about the same as when they were killing the air nomads. (minus the iron maning up to the temple) i mean think of the last agni-kai think of ozai and his scorching fleet, the amount of fire that was present there! and then look at the amount of fire when sozin killed gyatso, now dont get me wrong it was a lot of flames still, but yknow, not the amount id expect from a comet empowered fire lord yfeel?

keeping it with bending i like that aang can fly(or yknow glide... fly-lite? he's not really ignoring gravity is he, he's kind of??? like if he had wings! yknow he has to work for it, you see how he manipulates the air around him to levitate, that's actually why i like it a lot, its not completely effortless), flying is the final form of airbending and he's an airbending master, i think it fits yknow?

which is why i really like that he teaches katara a bit, all bending forms have basically the same basics so for him to be the one to show her that is really cool imo

im a bit afraid about sokka, he has his moments yeah, i really like the "mysterious bald person" and "youre not getting me on that thi- AHHH" bits, but thats just it, they are few and far between i dont really think the rest of the episode has the tone for those jokes, the rest of it being weirdly serious. afraid very afraid. hopefully the later episodes will be better, lots of series have a rough first episode.

there's a lot of small character inconsistencies im afraid about, like there are small zuko bits where he's a tad bit too violent yknow? i was looking forward to him handing sokkas ass to him without using any firebending but then they had this weird stand off?? that ended with him almost fucking executing sokka? bit... concerning...

what i dont think will get ironed out is gran gran's name is no longer gran gran, but granny exposition, she's had maybe 2 lines of dialogue and they were both pure exposition, it was the only dialogue where i actually cringed, she is the worst character, like it would be okay if she played the role of a wise old character right but the words she said are just??? exposition. without any dolling up without any tombfoolery, just pure exposition.

that is to say im mostly concerned about a few details which i hope will get ironed out.

thats it thanks for reading :)

[enneamage]

I guess I can chime in on the shipping thing as someone who does ship one of the forbidden ones that being Techza. Only in an RP way I’m not truthing or anything and I also don’t write fetish stuff. I just ship them in the most vanilla way possible

I spent about a year and a half having thoughts about shipping it and I felt like a horrible, terrible freak for it. I actively tried to repress my thoughts about it, out of pure fear that anyone I told about it would instantly try to cancel me or something. Even as I read QPR fanfic that was so clearly just people trying to get away with shipping it. Honest to God, I have read QPR fics that are way gayer than the fics tagged with /.

Then I basically cracked and told someone and guess what? They shipped it too and now we both talk about it together. I’m having the most fun I’ve had in this fandom just making AU ideas with that person

It feels so so much better to just admit you ship something rather than try to lie to yourself about it. I’ve talked to multiple people and all of them admit to having read some stuff of the forbidden ships such as Techza or Schlattbur. This fandom is filled with people who all ship stuff but everyone is too scared to talk about it because no one wants to be ostracized or anything

I just think it’d be a much healthier fandom environment if people could just say “Yah, I ship it” rather than having to repress those thoughts out of fear and instead go down the “QPR totally not shipping” path

We’re all fucking weirdos for writing fanfic about Minecraft men at all and that’s okay. I’d rather be a happy weirdo than a repressed and scared shipper

Yeah, one of the most tiresome things about this fandom is I’m pretty sure most people have a dual motive weather they know it or not. You’re much more likely to get the truth out of people in private if they trust you, the average member of the fandom isn’t an open book and if you’re on maintwt you can’t afford to go against the grain so it seems like people are more rigid than they really are. The thing that I find really disdainful is when people join in on dogpiles because they’re afraid of someone catching them in whatever it is they’re ashamed of, so they scapegoat someone else to displace the guilt. I can tell this fandom has a lot of that.

Techza is kind of a classic ‘hiding in plain sight’ example, I could tell from a glance at that community what people were really attached to, but I never saw anything outstandingly sexual from them (maybe I missed something?) so I let it go. They were around Techno’s age, it was all very Greek, I got it.

I think one of the biggest corrupting factors in this fandom has been how hyper-visible everything and everyone is. RPF is a dangerous game but the thin barrier between RPF and ‘shipping the characters’ in MCYT has a way of making some of the most tense fandom dynamics I’ve ever seen, I think people from other server fandoms would vouch for how bad it gets.

Something that I’m actually pretty firm on is that fan spaces should be mostly for fans (not devotional spaces for the benefit of ccs) and offer them a certain level of privacy, I know that there’s nothing to be done about the fourth wall the way things are now but I’m hoping that whatever websites rise up to take the place of Twitter if it ever becomes completely unusable will put more of a gap again. I don’t think we’ll ever be able to turn back time to when RPF was less well-known, but all I can hope for is moving somewhere where the too-close-for-comfort dynamic isn’t at play, because the panopticon has hurt almost as much as it’s helped at this point.

[secret-third-thing]

7, 12, 40, and 46! 💗

I wrote an essay so I'm putting this under read more HAHA.

Quick reference for folks! Here's the ask game!

7. How do you choose which POV to write from?

Oh this is always a tough one. I think of the story I am trying to tell and I ask myself a couple of questions.

Who has the most compelling story?

Who is either most relatable or most interesting for the reader to follow ?

(And for multi-pov fics) Who is going to give the reader the info we need? OR who is going to miss key moments that will be illustrated to the reader in their POV?

To give an example, for the latest chapter of BITW, I had Gianna experience three key scenes in her grandfather's party: her cousins acting like idiots, her uncle and his friends gambling, and then the fateful dinner 😉. I chose to use her point of view specifically for a couple of reasons:

We needed to see more of her internal world, while also experiencing Montesere as a resident would see it. That will help build tension later when we see how Autumn Court thinks of Montesere

I wanted Gianna to go to the cellar and participate in the events there specifically because she wasn't seeing what was ACTUALLY going on, but a reader could piece together that something was off.

And for the dinner - it's just plot and drama! We want to give our gal some Stakes!

Her uncle would have been the next best candidate... but he knows TOO MUCH!

--

12. how does receiving or not receiving feedback/support impact you?

Writing is so solitary that having support is REALLY REALLY helpful and lovely for me when I'm in the middle of drafting. I'm deeply insecure about writing something boring b/c I get so bogged down in the world-building sometimes.

Another thing to note is that I'm writing what I consider an incredibly niche part of the ACOTAR fandom. Side character x OC is not popular, so the disproportionate visibility and support can be hard, but I try not to take it personally. I come from other fandoms where Character x OC is the norm, so I've REALLY had to adjust my expectations.

But when I get a comment or the tags on my story are nice??? IT MAKES MY FUCKING DAY. I save all my praise in a little google doc and reread it when I'm having a hard time.

--

40. If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

First off, I would hyperventilate. Now, most of the scenes of BITW that I'd love to see in fanart haven't happened yet, but right now I'd KILL to see a drawing of Ludivine pulling coins from the fountain while Alois reads his erotica and Gianna counts coins. It's a fantastic intro (if I do say so myself) and really captures the cousins' dynamic.

--

46. How would you describe your style? (Character/ emotion/ action-driven, etc)

Ummmmmmmmmmm probably plot-driven. One of the things I'm really trying to work on is being more in my characters' heads and spending more time in impactful moments rather than hopping around from action to action. It's really hard for me b.c I naturally like to read stories where things are very plot-forward. BUT I think my growth as a writer could benefit from these pauses!

OKAY this was a lot but i hope it was insightful!!!!

[divorcingjimmatthews]

OMG. Okay. I think these are great points, and honestly the one thing making me want to try to argue against it is the fact that I really don't want it to be Kristi because I am so not ready to let go of her yet LMAO she's very dear to me so bear with me through my delusions.

First, additional supporting evidence. The person tending to Julie's wounds in the trailer seems to be Marielle (long brown hair with blonde front strands). This is Marielle's only scene in the trailer, and it's blink and you miss it, so it could mean that all of Marielle's other scenes are too spoilery to show.

We also get a glimpse of this picture at the funeral. It's basically microscopic but if we are to assume it's a picture of the deceased, the hair color and length match Kristi's, or at least don't rule her out. Also it would make sense for Marielle to be carrying a picture of her.

The funeral sitting arrangements also make sense with it being Kristi, since that's Kenny and Boyd closest to her, and Ethan is obviously fond of her since she was the one to treat his leg when they first arrived at the town. Marielle's absence can easily be explained by her being too broken to attend.

Now, the points I could make against. First of all, we get this shot of the body where some fabric underneath the brown sack is visible. It looks like yellow knit fabric, pink knit fabric, and some other white fabric. Kristi isn't wearing clothes matching these colors and fabrics, while Sara is. We also see similar fabrics being used as a pillow for Julie in the scene I mentioned earlier with Marielle.

Second, the order of events. We can see Jade and Boyd returning from somewhere, rolling the dead body into town, and Jade is wearing multiple layers of his own clothes in that scene, which is a less than ideal winter outfit. However, the outfit that he's wearing while Kristi is presumably alive (since the red beanie person is in the scene) seems like a more proper winter outfit, which makes me think that chronologically the red beanie person scene happens after the person in the cart has died. But, this is where the bear trap scene can happen (I'm 100% sure the bear trap victim is Kristi after reading your post. Like Jade, Jim, and Kenny, she also seems to have geared up for the trip because she changed her white shoes for brown boots, though. If she dies in this outfit, would they change her shoes back?).

So, taking into account the previous teaser that was released a few months ago, my guess is that the order of events is:

Boyd, Jade and Dead Person go somewhere -> Dead Person is tortured in front of Boyd -> Dead Person dies and is brought back into town -> Funeral for Dead Person -> Jim, Kenny, Jade and Kristi go on a trip somewhere else together, dressed in more winter-y gear

The ambush in town also has to be before the trip if we follow this logic, because Jade is wearing his "normal" clothes there. Also, I'm counting these 4 characters as going on the trip together because the pairings are unlikely on their own (it would make more sense to imagine that Jade and Jim tagged along with Kristi and Kenny, and then the pairings got mixed up) and because Jim and Kenny walk past a skull similar to the one the guy in Jade's vision is drinking from, so it looks like they're all in the same place).

My conclusion: I'm kind of at a loss honestly because some of the "evidence" seems contradictory. I have my own post on why I think the dead body is Sara but if it was Sara then I couldn't explain why Kenny looks so broken or what's happening with the red beanie. If it's Kristi I can't explain the timeline and costume changes or the yellow, white and pink fabrics. Probably worth noting that there were scenes in the S2 trailer that hinted at a plotline that ultimately never happened in S2 so it's not impossible that there's stuff in here that won't actually be in the episodes. Sorry for the long reply, I hope at least some of it is interesting 🙏

Kristi is DEFINITELY the dead body seen in the From season 3 trailer

1. She is seen wearing white legwarmers with jeans, and those same legs are seen getting caught in a bear trap

2. The dead body HAS THE BEAR TRAP WOUND (hard to see in these ss, it goes by fast but clearly lines up)

3. In the promo photos, she’s seen wearing a red beanie, but in the trailer Jade is talking to someone wearing it that isn’t fully pictured, and then later he’s wearing it

4. Kenny is clearly mourning (the flowers on the counter, his outburst at the radio) it would make sense he’s emotional at losing Kristi and isn’t able to show it in a healthy way because of Marielle

I think this makes the most sense plot wise, and would force Marielle to step up and maybe take on Julie as a nurse trainee. I’m DYING to know other people’s thoughts though I couldn’t find anyone else mentioning these points let me know what yall think :3

[mshroom1e]

Hi! Could i request Ortho finding out that Idia's online friend and eventually crush is the reader? And eventually he tries to matchmake them?

Hello!! Sorry for disappearing for a whole 2 weeks 💀 I've been busy with life and I ended up writing this fic way longer than I ppanned to. I hope you don't mind! Also, I got really stuck on some parts and wasn't sure which direction to go with the story. Apologies if it feels a little rushed.

Pr0ject Cupid | Idia x GN! Reader

type: fanfic

Summary: A pair of painfilly awkward people get set up by a member of the said pair's little brother.

5.8k words

tags: silly fluff, mutual crushing

Warning(s): very mild swearing

no way u acc saw me

bruh i couldve seen you with my eyes closed

you dumbass u just contradicted yourself

no shit

im gonna shave your eyebrows

...

Idia stifled a laugh and couldn't hide the cheesy grin that grew on his face as his eyes read over the pixelated letters on his monitor. About 3 weeks ago, he met you on a random server, and you instantly clicked. He wasn't one to form bonds with people so quickly, whether it was online or in person, but with you, how could he resist?

You got along like Q and W on a keyboard, plus you always reciprocated his nerdy comments and never got the wrong idea about any of his intentions. The only problem was, however, that you had no idea who each other were irl.

So, one day, Idia got curious about who you really were. He ended up searching for you on Magicam using the username he knew you by. There wasn't really much he was expecting as people usually used different names for their social media compared to the more nerdy online stuff.

Idia nearly fell out of his chair when a search result popped up, and a profile with quite a few posts showed up. It was you. There was no way it wasn't you.

His heart began beating faster than usual just at reading your captions, posts of your random thoughts, and the pictures you posted. You were definitely cute, maybe the prettiest person Idia had ever seen. Even though your facial features were pixelated, you somehow managed to make them look soft and warm, like an angelic version of yourself. There were also many pictures of foods you made in the Ramshackle Dorm, selfies with your friends, and a few pictures with Grim.

Okay, now Idia was panicking. He'd never felt the way he felt right now, but from the way his heart was running a marathon and he could feel warmth slowly creeping up his face, there was only one explanation. The description matched how the characters in dating sims would feel, and this was bad. He couldn't have a cru- no no no, a c-word. No way! He didn't even want to think of the word because it would only solidify his predicament in his head.

From his panic, his finger slipped and accidentally liked one of your posts. Idia's eyes widened as he saw the damage he'd already done as his brain went into full panick mode. There was no way to undo it, even if he un-liked the post. The notification must've already gotten to your phone and you would've noticed most likely and you'd block him, think he was a stalker and never speak to him again then he'd be become even more emo and-

He changed from his usual question mark posture in his chair to sitting in a fetal position in the corner of his room, hoping for the atoms in his body to slowly merge into the wall.

His phone in his pocket vibrated, and when Idia pulled out the device to see what the notification was, his heart nearly collapsed on itself. A flinch of his arm caused his phone to be launched across his room, and for some reason, he jumped to catch it, landing on a large, disorganised pile of manga with a loud crash. He hastily unlocked his phone to see what the alert was.

'Your EP has been restored!'

Damn.

There was a smooth sliding of the door to Idia's dorm room. Ortho stood? floated? levitated? at the entrance with a confused, yet worried expression in the visible part of his face.

"Idia? I heard a loud crash, and I was worried you got injured," Ortho floated closer to his brother.

"I'm f-fine!" Idia yelped.

'Hair tinted pink, increasing heart rate, flushed cheeks,'

Ortho's eyes drifted over to Idia's several monitors until he focused on a certain one.

"Yuu's Magicam profile?"

The little robot pieced two and two together before he said, "Oh, you like [Name], don't you?"

-

This was a really, really, really bad idea...

Idia's internal panick only escalated as he was dragged walking through campus with Ortho. Leaving his dorm room usually resulted in a one-sided fight for his life as every dialogue scene he had with another person besides his brother was set to hard mode by default.

Speaking with you in person was the best way to get to know each other better, Ortho would say. The problem was, Idia knew that you didn't know who he was, so it would probably be strange to suddenly have him speaking to you.

He was lost in his panicky thoughts when he felt someone bump into him, and he felt his body tipping back. (So unique and never seen before, I know.)

A hand quickly grabbed his wrist, hoisting him back upright. Ortho sent you a beaming smile with his eyes before quickly disappearing and leaving you alone with his brother, leaving the beanstalk to fend for himself.

Idia's heart nearly flipped in his stomach as he met your eyes. You let go of his wrist when he regained his balance, he almost fell over again.

"Careful," you smiled.

In his eyes, you looked like a panel from a manhwa where the love interest was introduced with flowers, sparkles, and glitter radiating around them.

"S-sorry," He managed to spit out, somehow sounding cohesive.

"It's okay, I just hope you didn't get hurt, I tend to grab onto stuff a little too tightly," you said with a sheepish chuckle.

Your laugh. Idia's ears felt blessed with such a delicate angelic sound. Like bells chiming in his ears, more harmonic than the songs from his favourite idol group's no.1 album. His heart was sent into overdrive, and he couldn't take it anymore and decided on the most rational option in his currently mushy brain.

To run.

So he ran.

You watched his retreating form with a fond look before you turned to face Ortho, who hid in a nearby bush and sent him a thumbs up.

This was progress, at least.

- A few days ago -

You had a crush on Idia. A huge one at that. There was no debate. You didn't even bother denying it.

You knew he rarely left his dorm room, so you barely saw him during the day. Seeing a flash of flamey blue hair dart around a corner just before you could fully get a look at the twitter logo-coloured candle always managed to make your heart squeeze and an undefeatable grin etch itself on your face.

Of course, a few days into talking to your new online friend, you already knew of his true identity but chose not to inform him of the fact. From what you'd seen on campus, he was the type of person to prefer engaging with others through the comfort of a screen rather than conversing face to face. And honestly, you couldn't blame him at all. It must've felt so stifling to always be conscious of the way you carried yourself, while choosing words carefully to not offend the person in front of you or make them think badly of you while simultaneously looking like a sane, functioning person.

So, you talked to him like an online friend would. After a few days of getting to know each other through public servers and direct messaging, you soon shared your interests and found common ground in a few of them. For example, you both were addicted to gacha games with diabolocal pity systems. He also started to open up to you, though you thought it was a little fast, but people tend to share a lot when speaking to someone through pixels on a screen as they felt more at home. He talked about his struggles when interacting with people and his constant anxiety about how people perceived him.

Being someone of minimal social intelligence, the most you could do was offer some general words of comfort about how everyone was different in their own way and some people are just more advantaged in certain aspects of life, social interaction being one of them.

As your feelings grew, you couldn't help but feel like your relationship was a little one-sided. You knew who exactly you were talking to, but as far as Idia knew, he was talking to and building a relationship with a person who could've been miles and miles away and he also barely knew who [Name] was.

Man, this really sucked.

- Yesterday -

Ortho was smart. It was only obvious since his mechanical brain had the efficency of a computer with infinite RAM. He knew his brother had met a new friend online, which explained his less gloomy aura and his anxious glances at his phone whenever they were in his room together.

It didn't take long for Ortho to learn that the person Idia was talking to also attended the same school. In his mind, he viewed finding out things about you as a way to further protect his older brother from harm.

Fast forward to later that day, Ortho cornered found you in the courtyard after you'd lost a bet with Grim and had to buy him a drink from a nearby vending machine.

He called out to you enthusiastically as he practically teleported to you, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Long story short, Ortho figured out how you felt about Idia, and he was over the moon. His brother finally had someone who he could happily spend time with, and he couldn't be happier for him. He knew Idia better than anyone, and it was certain that getting close to Idia in face-to-face terms would take a lot for him to get used to and he decided it would be best to slowly ease your way into making conversations with him without being forceful or overwhelming him.

Thus began your joint conspiracy to rizz up get to know Idia better.

- Present -

It took about a day for you to come to the conclusion that you'd most likely never see Idia during school hours whether he was on campus or not. Your schedules were so unmatched that it was ridiculous. When you had a lesson in the alchemy labs, he'd be in a P.E lesson and when you were in the history of magic, he'd be in some classroom that might as well be at the other side of Sage's Island.

Luckily for you, Ortho informed you about Idia's current whereabouts. He was in the Board Game Club's classroom, probably playing- you guessed it- board games. It felt like some sort of secret stealth mission, plotting where to catch Idia with Ortho so sneakily. You just hoped that this silly plot would work.

Now that you were in front of the clubroom's door, you had no idea what to do. Your brain already left your body shortly after your heart that was beating a mile a minute and had long since jumped out of your chest to who knows where. You'd worked so hard to get to this point (not really) and now that you were here, what were you going to do?

Showing up at his clubroom unannounced totally sounded like stalker behaviour from some poorly written fanfic, and you definitely were not about that life. What if you just entered casually? Did you have a friend in the board game club? Probably not since you didn't even know the names of the people in your homeroom class, save for Adeuce and Grim.

Deciding to swallow your nerves and whatever other anxiety that was clogging your airways, you calmly slid open the door. Surprisingly, the club had quite a few members present, but it wasn't too densely populated. Your eyes immediately lit up when familiar floaty blue flames caught your attention. He was alone on a table next to one of the room's walls. His usual board gaming partner, Azul, was nowhere to be seen. It was safe to assume he was somewhere exploiting some poor unfortunate soul of all their mortal possessions with his buy-one-get-one-free pair of henchmen.

You approached Idia, more nervous than a turkey the day before Thanksgiving. He noticed you and almost jumped out of his own skin.

Was he dreaming? If not, why else would you show up at the board game club? Before he knew it, he started to sweat. Every step you took closer to him made his poor heart run laps. The confident (Idia's POV. This does not accurately reflect current events.) stride in your step, and the smile you gave him as you approached made his face heat up, and the tips of his hair grow warmer. His flight- please there is absolutely no fight- instinct almost took over as he considered running out of the room at full speed.

There was no Ortho to help him communicate if he ended up having to talk to you. He was all alone for this pop-up Pokemon battle.

A random board game caught your eye, and you picked it up, deciding to use it as a shield to not let your conversation get stabbed in the chest by the painful spear called awkwardness.

"Hi, Idia." You said casually with your usual grin. 'Great start'

You failed to catch Idia's mortified expression as it disappeared as suddenly as it arrived. He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn't get any words out. To his surprise, you didn't seem to mind his silence and just sat down in the chair across from his.

"Sorry to bother you," you continued, "If you want me gone, just say the word." The second part was intended to be lighthearted as you let out a low chuckle after you were done talking.

He quickly scrambled into his bag and pulled out a slim, grey tablet, and began to type.

"I don't mind you being here at all, [Name]." A voice from the device's speakers that sounded too much like Idia's said. You weren't all too shocked since you'd seen him use it around school a few times and had even seen the thing floating around campus by itself. You'd just never have a conversation with "it".

"Woah, is that a voice program?Did you make it yourself? I've only seen it being used for vocaloids, and even those mess up a few times. Did you use a sample of your voice? Is everything prerecorded? If you-" You blurted out, quickly smacking a hand over your mouth to shut yourself up before you could ramble any further.

Great job, [Name].

Idia's eyes lit up with surprise at your words as he quickly started typing something on his screen. His features moulded into a proud smirk, "Yeah, it's made with a sample of my voice. I made it using a vocaloid as a reference."

"Really?!" You almost jumped out of your seat, eyes practically shining with stars. Gosh, he really was so cool.

He nodded frantically as the tips of his firey hair faded into a warmer hue. Students in his dorm had the same base interests as he did. However, he was almost always too nervous to initiate a conversation with any of them. But with you, the nervousness he felt didn't try to suffocate him for once and instead felt like a sweet, comfy flutter in his chest.

"I found this when I walked into the room, and it looked fun. Wanna play?" Your short exchange feuled you with a little more confidence as you built the courage to ask him to play a board game with you.

You hadn't even looked at the game's cover before picking it up. Imagine your surprise at finding out you'd picked up "Monopoly Bass Fishing Edition".

Great job.

Now, Idia probably saw you as some weird fish-obsessed kid (no offence to Octavinelle) who probably looked up how to make bass fishing bait in their spare time. The cover was hideous. A massive bass fish was in the middle, surrounded by loops of smaller bass fish all saying things in speech bubbles where the letters were modelled to look like bass fish. To top it all off, there was a massive glittery title in the colour of neon orange that said, "Monopoly: Bass Fishing Edition." Underneath in equally as eye tormenting sentence bordered off by a wiggly pink line that read "Get ready to be schooled!" Get it? Coz groups of fishes are called schools-

This was going to be painful.

You liked to think you knew all the rules of Monopoly by heart. Especially after seeing relationships crumble over the neverending board game.

Idia didn't seem phased, so you assumed he already knew the rules of the game, too.

You played for a bit, taking turns to roll a double to see who could start first. The first to roll a double was eventually Idia, so he took the first turn.

-

You knew Idia was competitive from the way he would obliterate the opposition during your online meet-ups in matches. What you didn't expect was to end up going bankrupt after only a few loops around the board. It took a while for you to accept defeat, but after seeing the small, triumphant smile that gently made its way onto Idia's face, any loss was worth it.

Now that you looked around the room, most of the board game club members had long since departed, and it was only you and your blue-haired friend left in the room. A blanket of quiet and slight awkwardness fell over the two of you as you both looked at anything but each other.

"We should uh, but the pieces away," you suggested.

He looked at you, a little surprised at your sudden breach of silence, before he quickly nodded. "R-Right."

After stiffly putting the pieces away, occasionally flinching when the tips of your fingers made contact as you passed some game pieces between yourselves, there wasn't much else for you to do despite twiddling your thumbs. From an outsider's point of view, the aftermath was painfully awkward as neither of you had anything to say. Sitting in silence wasn't always a bad thing, but come on.

Your brain frizzled as you tried to think of something, anything to say to start a conversation.

"Nice weather we're having today." So creative.

As if the universe was saying a big "f*ck you", there was a loud rumble of thunder outside the window before massive raindrops began to smack on to the grass and pavement outside, each with a louder 'plap!' than the previous one each time.

Idia giggled before trying to hold back a laugh, which eventually turned into even more giggles. You stared at him for a few seconds, stunned. You hadn't actually heard him laugh before as he always looked so terrified around you. Sure, he was laughing at your stupidity, but this was a start, right?

It didn't take long for you to join in, laughing at yourself too.

Maybe coming to his clubroom on impulse wasn't so bad after all.

-

"Sam's store is releasing this SSR-tier set of trading cards today, and I have to go get it," Idia muttered to himself as he scurried down a hallway of the Ignihyde dorm. "No one's gonna that early, especially since it's not gonna attract any normies-"

"But what if there's a whole mob of NPCs there? Worst case scenario is a few of them showing up to do some early morning shopping, so grabbing what I need and skidadling outta there is gonna be ez."

Ortho was most likely in his room resting at this hour, so Idia decided not to bother him. Besides, it was only a trip to the school store. He should be fine, right?

Wrong.

It was not ez peasy.

It just happened to be that the same day Idia's treasured ultra rare cards were released on the same day as Sam's new mystery drink that the whole school went crazy for. By the time Idia was about to leave the store after paying for what he came for, the whole area was packed, and it was almost impossible to move. Waves of students rushing to the till after grabbing a bottle of the new beverage washed over the store grounds.

People, people, people, and more people. Sweaty teenagers seemed to fight tooth and nail just to get their hands on a bottle. It was like the kids from the UK when Prime was launched. (iykyk) Everywhere he turned, he seemed to bump into another 3 people and get elbowed by another five. The sheer power of the crowd almost swept him off his feet, and he felt himself being dragged to the opposite direction from where he was headed. He reached his hand out to grab at something, while the other held his cards close to his chest, but there was nothing to hold onto for support. The only option was to become one with the crowd.

As he was about to give up and accept his fate, his outstretched hand was tugged on by a familiar, gentle yet firm grip, which felt like he was being pulled ashore after drifting off into the ocean. Idia's body was pulled upright and into a much less crowded space. A pleasant warmth spread across his chest as he saw the face of his saviour.

A part of him felt mortified while the other felt relieved. He was glad to have been pulled out of the sea of people, but he felt a little lame to have to have been saved by someone else, as if he couldn't handle himself. Another reason, the more obvious one, was because it was you. In his point of view, you always showed up at random times and ended up helping him without realising how much of an impact your actions held.

"I'm getting this feeling of deja vu," you smiled, leading Idia to a bench opposite the store.

"You helped me again-" Idia muttered, his eyes downcast.

You tilted your head, a little confused, "Hm?"

"N-No, it's not that I have a proble-" He cut himself off, "I, um-"

How did he manage to talk himself into a corner like this? Trying to talk to you felt like a puzzle with the myriad of emotions all rushing through his head at once, and he was bound to mess up somewhere.

"Don't sweat it," you responded. Your smile unwavering.

For whatever reason, Idia's anxious jumble of words never phased you. Your willingness to let him take his time when talking to you gave him a sort of confidence, and he could hope to speak with confidence that he didn't even know he was capable of.

A ray of reflected early morning sunlight that bounced off the shiny packaging of what Idia held securely in his hands and it caught your eye.

"Is that (insert game reference here)?!" Your voice cracked as you said the name of the franchise.

The mood was instantly lightened at your change in focus, and Idia felt himself get giddy. He was so happy to share a conversation with someone who wasn't a so-called "normie."

His excitement faded though, a bit, when he looked up to find that you looked slightly disappointed. You looked at Idia in confusion, but shrugged.

You sighed, looking away.

Why were you disappointed? Was it something he did? Oh no, what if you thought he was lame for getting trapped in a crowd like that, and you actually thought he was such a bother the whole time-

"I still haven't managed to get my hands in a copy," you frowned.

"Oh," He sounded stunned, which confused you. "Um, I-" He swallowed, fighting the urge to pull his hood over his head and hide.

"I mean-" Idia's eyes seemed to glance at everything and everywhere other than at you.

His breath caught in his throat, and the feeling multiplied by a gazillion when he saw Ortho watching him from behind a tree. He almost choked on whatever air he'd just managed to inhale into his trachea.

To make matters worse, Ortho held a cute but terrible made neon blue glittery banner that said, "Talk to them, Idia!!!"

Wasn't he resting?

The poor nerd (affectionate) wanted to evaporate on the spot.

"What were you about to say?" You asked, not seeing the silliness behind you.

Idia glanced back and forth between you and Ortho, wishing with every single bone in his body that the 50/50 gacha in front of him right now would go his way and you wouldn't turn around at all.

Imagine his horror when you followed his worryingly mortified gaze, and he saw our eyes widen a fraction, and you slapped a hand over your mouth.

"Ortho?"

He panicked for a good few seconds before he did what he did best and bolted away from you with a stubborn blush creeping up his neck.

"Huh?Wait up!" You called after him, but it was futile.

Ortho soon waved happily at you as he followed Idia back to what you assumed was the Ignihyde dorm.

-

"Where did you-" Idia began, speedwalking to the Hall of Mirrors with more agility than he knew his G-fuel filled body could possess.

"I did some research, and it showed that people your age have a 60% more chance at talking to someone they like when they're encouraged by someone else!" Ortho chirped with the certainty of the sun rising in the east.

"I'm not- It's not-" Idia couldn't find the words to use to retort at his younger brother. The way his sunny amber eyes shimmered with glee was enough to punch the words of protest that Idia could ever muster right down the drain. "J-Just tone it own a notch next time..." He finished with a small frown.

"Okay!" Ortho sang, floating into Ignihyde's mirror after the older Shroud.

Idia signed and pulled the strings of his hoodie tighter to conceal his face more. Now that you were somewhat aware of how he felt about you, he had no idea how to face you the next day.

-

It had been over a week, and you'd gotten no contact from Idia or Ortho. It was safe to assume that Idia probably didn't leave his room a single time in that time frame. A metaphorical banner was built between you as he had practically gone AWOL on everything you could use to contact him. So, you couldn't even talk to him with your online persona and try to understand how he felt by hoping he'd confide in his online bestie even a little. Not that you wanted to intrude on his privacy, but the fact that things seemed to be falling apart between you two before you properly even got to know each other hurt a lot more than th fact that you convinced yourself of- the fact that it looked like he didn't want to see you again. You sighed, closing your computer.

This was pointless. No doubt, he doesn't feel the same way towards you, and you really should start accepting it. Maybe he thought you were strange? Or it was creepy that you always seemed to be around when he was in trouble? Maybe he thought you were a stalker? He'd probably figured out your online identity and blocked you, hence the lack of activity on any of his accounts over the last week and a bit.

But you couldn't accept it. Not until you know more, and you don't think it'll help if you keep prying at the subject, especially since it won't do any good in the end. It was useless to keep trying. You grabbed your phone and checked the screen for any messages, but there were none. You put it back on the nightstand and turned on your side, burying your face in your pillow.

You lay there for what felt like forever and eventually fell asleep.

-

Morning soon arrived, and you woke up to a series of knocks at the main door of Ramshackle Dorm. The quick thuds of knuckles striking wood resounded throughout the whole bottom floor of the building, probably enough to alert your cat roommate out of his venture into Dream Land.

The perpetrator was definitely unexpected. It was a fine weekend, and you hadn't been expecting a visit from anyone at all, especially not the younger Shroud brother.

Rubbing your eyes and letting out a yawn as you opened the door, you had to squint to see something else other than a mop of flickering blue and a white block.

"Ortho?" You blinked. Your statement sounded more like a question to yourself than to the other party.

"Good morning!" Ortho said cheerfully, waving with one arm while balancing an assortment of books and various games under the other. He was carrying four plastic bags full of stuff, including a large bowl with some cereal, milk, eggs, toast, fruit, and orange juice inside it.

"Err..." you replied.

"We came to hang out!" Ortho cheered, which confused you even more.

"What? And who's 'we'??" You questioned all at once, not even knowing where to begin.

"Idia wants to apologise for running away from you for the past week. He said he's really sorry and did it because he was scared," he rambled on with his usual cheery tone and pointed to a nearby tree, "And we brought food!"

Behind said tree stood said Idia, holding onto the tree's bark with a grip for dear life while only the top half of his face peeked out.

What.

- Flashback to earlier -

"Now, what do I do? This is demon mode difficult- I'd rather fight Absolute Virtue from the original release of FF11 all over again for 16 hours straight than face them again... Can I get an F in the chat for this one..." Idia mumbled to himself in a string of incomprehensible gibberish as he sat in a fetal position at the corner of his room while his hood covered his entire head, and he rocked back and forth.

"This is the worst-"

"Cheer up, Idia!" Ortho handed him a charger, "You can always talk to them online if it helps!"

"At this point, they've probably forgotten about me. People's online friends get Men in Black'ed from their brains all the time. I'll just look like some weird guy that goes,'Hey kids!wanna to get free RAM for your computer?' or something-" his rampant thoughts only dug him further into his self-made pit of despair.

"Hmm," Ortho pondered, "Let's go see them!"

"Are you kidding?! No way!" He shook his head rapidly and started rocking himself even faster, "If they don't see me, maybe they'll even forget I exist and I can become one with the void..."

"Don't be ridiculous, Idia. We can go see them right now!" Ortho hovered around, gathering a bunch of gaming equipment and books, "Hanging out like friends will get rid of any tension in the air!"

"No!" Idia protested, but it was too late.

He'd already been picked up by a robotic arm, and off they went.

-

"That's pretty much what happened," Ortho recalled as you lead the pair the lounge.

"Right... But I still don't get how that means he's sorry..." You muttered.

"Why don't you tell them, Idia?" Ortho looked at his brother, "I'll leave you two to talk here while I make some snacks!"

The older Shroud twiddle his fingers and stared at the floor, his hood still covering his head.

It took a few seconds of silence before Idia began talking.

"Uh," he spoke quietly and cleared his throat twice before proceeding, "I was so stupid."

"Huh?" You said, gaping at Idia.

"I know I've done stupid things, but this was beyond stupid. Like, way too stupid! Noob at Subway Surfers level of stupid!" He babbled on, his voice cracking with uncharacteristic emotion.

He took a deep, shaky breath and closed his eyes, attempting to compose himself. His hair turning pink. "I kept telling myself it was okay for us to keep being friends online even though I found your Magicam page and accidentally liked one of your posts and knew who you were but you didn't know who I was and I felt guilty and then you suddenly showed up then I realised I l-l-like you and then that thing at the shop happened and you probably thought it was so cringe-"

Then it clicked. So he thought you thought he was weird? He didn't hate you.

It felt like a huge weight was lifted off your chest.

Then, you chuckled, snickered, giggled, then let out waves of laughter. Idia stared at you, dumbfounded.

"This whole time, haha, I thought I was the one who did something wrong."

"No! You didn't," He quickly jumped in.

"Wait, you just said that you like me...?" You pointed to yourself, and you felt your face grow warm.

Silence landed like a wall of pure steel between the two of you.

He gaped at you with wide eyes. Dang it! He seriously didn't mean to blurt that part out loud. Curse him and his tendency to blab everything he thought aloud as soon as he started talking!

Idia covered his reddened face with his hands.

"What a coincidence," you smiled, "Since I like you too."

You gently pulled his hands away from his face and gave him your brightest grin. He froze as soon as your skin made contact, and his breathing quickened, his hair turned a full, passionate pink.

"Ahahahaha...!" He stammered.

A sudden noise filled both the room, followed by a long silence, causing the both of you to turn towards the source. Your heads turned in sync to see Ortho standing at the door with a camera after it let out a painfully loud 'click!'

He gave the pair of you a huge smile with his eyes.

"For memories' sake!" He cheered.

-

Bonus

After you'd made breakfast together with the ingredients that the brothers brought, you, Idia and Ortho, sat in a triangle on the floor, while Grim watched lazily from the sofa. It was more of a joint interrogation performed against the little robot with Grim serving as an audience.

"So, Ortho, you knew Idia already knew who I was?" You raised an eyebrow, "And you knew about how he felt??"

"And you already knew that they liked me? And you knew they knew who I was and didn't tell me??" Idia squeaked, "And you told them to come to the store that day?!"

Ortho picked up a controller and was suddenly immersed in gameplay.

"Haha..." He sweatdropped.

[awlumii]

worst case scenario.

# — pairing: spidey!kazuha x gn!reader

# — characters: gender neutral reader, spider-man!kazuha

# — summary: after a little incident, spider-man begins to question his effectiveness as a hero.

# — warnings: mentions of blood/injury (cut from a ring from a slap), vague hints of minor character death

# — tags: hurt/comfort, yes there's kisses do not act surprised, kazuha's just really worried about you

# — notes: hey, remember that ask that was like "what happens if reader gets hurt?" and i was like "is a fic an okay response?" well, it's 4 am and i have this to show for it. i haven't stayed up until 4 am in almost six months. soooo, reblogs and reactions are REALLY appreciated, and i hope you enjoy! (and don't get tired of my spidey!kazuha shenanigans, ahaha..)

wanna join the tag list?

✦ — 🕷+ 🍁 — ✦

being robbed in an alleyway is the last thing you ever thought you'd be doing on a friday night. and yet here you were, arguing with two thieves who seem unsatisfied with the belongings that they found on your person. in your defense, you were just trying to get home after being in the library for almost eight hours straight; you didn't carry valuables because you had no use for them.

that very fact seems to piss off the taller of the two thieves. "i know you're hiding something!" he hollers at you. "you have to be hiding something from us!"

"how many times do i have to tell you," you groan, "i don't have any fucking money on me!" you gesture to your books and other materials that have been unceremoniously scattered on the concrete. "that's all i have. please, just take it and leave me alone."

common sense would tell you to mind your tone around these two. they're both bigger and visibly stronger than you; accosting them in such a manner was a recipe for disaster. plus, they're already pissed off and you don't know if they're armed or not. but you already spotted your self-defense stuff amongst the clutter at their feet and you're really deep in this alleyway — and even if you did scream and someone heard you, the thieves would probably hurt you if you drew too much attention to your situation.

all of that to say, you're trapped.

as you try to think of possible escape routes (all of which seem to end in hypothetical failure), the bulkier thief marches over to you and starts to pat you down -- probably in search of your wallet. you shriek and push him away as hard as you can. "don't touch me, what the hell?!"

the man glares at you with a wild, almost animalistic look in his eyes. "i felt a wallet," he growls at you, "fuckin' knew you were hiding something. hand it over!" he reaches out and takes your arm in a bruising grip.

"no!" you twist your body to try and free yourself. that only serves to upset the thief even more. he backhands you; hard. your head whips to the side with the force of it and your eyes water immediately.

the taller thief takes advantage of your disorientation and finishes patting you down. he finds your wallet and your phone, both of which he pockets. "i got it," he says, "let's go!" the man holding your arm releases you and takes off with his partner, speeding down the alleyway with your belongings.

you're still having trouble processing what just happened. the thief hit you so hard that your vision went white for a second, and now that you're re-focusing, you think that he must've been wearing a ring or two, because your cheek feels strangely wet. you bring your fingers up to your face and hiss as soon as you touch it. sure enough, your fingertips come back stained with crimson. he got you good.

with your phone gone, you can't even call the police to tell them what happened. you're more fixated on the deep cut on your face, anyhow. you stagger over to your belongings and gingerly place them back in the bag. at least you don't have to walk far.

the craziest part about all this wasn't even that you lost all of your stuff; it's that you were literally right outside your building. "silver lining, i guess." you mutter as you trudge home.

once inside, you toss your bag onto the floor and head to your closet to get the supplies to start cleaning your wound. just as you start to clean it, you hear a familiar thud and knocking coming from your balcony window. you step out of your bathroom and see none other than spider-man himself waiting for you.

the very second you open it, he's all over you, taking your face in one hand and inspecting it closely. "what happened?" he asks almost frantically. "who hurt you?"

you huff quietly, unsure of how to answer him. you're still a little disoriented. the adrenaline is taking its sweet time leaving your system. his gloved thumb brushes the skin just below your cut and you jolt, the sudden rush of pain forcing you to shove him away. "don't touch me." you grumble. you wince when you realize how harsh you sound. it's not like spider-man was the one who did this to you. "sorry," you apologize quietly, "don't touch me, please. i-it still hurts." you ignore his soft call of your name and head back into the bathroom to patch yourself up. "why're you even here?" you call out from where you are. "you don’t look injured."

to your surprise, he follows you. "there was a mugging reported in the area." he raises his left hand and out of the corner of your eye, you spot your phone and wallet. "before i returned these to their owner, i just wanted to see if you were--"

"holy shit, that's mine!" you snatch your stuff out of his hands and all but slam them down on your sink. "you caught those two?"

you wonder what face spider-man is making beneath his mask. "yes, but i... you were their latest victim?" he sounds like he's in complete disbelief.

"yes," you sigh. you feel infinitely lighter than you did a second ago. you perk up a bit and work a little harder on cleaning your injury. it's deeper than you thought it'd be — it might leave a mark. "the bigger one had rings on, right?" when spider-man nods, you grumble. "that asshole slapped me 'cause i wouldn't give up my wallet."

spider-man's hand comes up to grab your wrist, stopping you. you look at him, confused. his grip is tight. "let me." he says. he gently pushes you so you're sitting on top of your toilet lid. "please. it's the least i can do."

you gawk at him. "you want to patch me up this time?" spider-man doesn't answer; he finishes cleaning the blood from your face and you let him, a smile making its way across your face. "this is an interesting turn of events."

"this shouldn't be happening." spider-man says seriously. "you were never supposed to be--" he cuts himself off with a harsh sigh.

is he..?

"are you upset that i'm hurt?" you ask. "it was bound to happen at some point, y'know?"

that's apparently the wrong thing to say. spider-man clicks his tongue; clearly, he's upset. "you were supposed to be safe. i was supposed to keep you safe, and yet..." he gently dabs some antiseptic over your wound. you hiss and draw away from him, but he cradles your jaw in his other hand, keeping you still. "i'm sorry," he whispers, "i'm so sorry. i'll try harder to keep you safe next time. stop moving, please."

you're quiet after that. kazuha doesn't like it very much.

but what else is he supposed to say? what else can he say without giving himself away? he doesn't think his body will allow him to speak, anyway; his heart plummeted when he saw you bleeding, it's a miracle he managed to say this much in the first place.

kazuha always looks out for you — always. it doesn't matter who he fights or who he puts in jail; after every single mission, he's swinging by your apartment to see if you're okay. every day, when he sees you walking around campus unharmed and well, he feels like he's fulfilled his unspoken promise of keeping you safe. seeing you like this now makes him want to tear his mask off and throw it away.

what kind of hero is he if he can't keep his most precious person safe?

kazuha finishes patching you up in silence and smooths the bandage over your cheek. "there," he says softly. “all done.” you don’t move right away. instead you sit and stare at him with furrowed brows. kazuha stares back at you with a mirrored expression. “is everything okay?” he asks, worried that he’d messed up somewhere. “does it still hurt? It’s going to ache for a few days, but--”

“no, that’s not--” you sigh and bring a hand up to the bandage, brushing your fingers over it gingerly. “that’s not it. i mean, it hurts, yeah, but… you don’t seem okay. what’s wrong?”

what’s wrong, he wants to scream, is that he failed you. he can feel it now; this isn’t going to be the last time that you’re going to get hurt because of him. the only reason those two hair-brained idiots thought they could get away with this was likely because they heard news of some other criminals just barely managing to squeeze past him and law enforcement. they probably wanted to go home to their criminal friends and boast about how they of all people managed to get around the spider-man.

sure, they may not have known about your connection to him, but the fact remains that as long as you are a citizen in this city, the possibility of you becoming a victim (or god forbid, a casualty) of violent crime is never zero. you were lucky you walked away with a mere scratch — others aren't as fortunate. he's seen it all by now. the thought of you being one of the poor souls that he has the misfortune of happening across too late…

you're standing in front of him now. your fingers brush his jaw over his mask. without thinking, he'd turned his gaze to the ground. at your touch, he meets your eyes and sees, feels, the concern pouring out of them. "spider-man," you ask again, "are you okay?"

kazuha, overcome by his own failure and emotion, rests a hand over yours. "i'm sorry." his voice comes out as nothing more than a breath. a whisper. it's shaky and he tries to swallow it back, but the fear rises quickly and strangles him. the what-ifs can't be put to rest any longer. what if you ended up severely injured? what if you couldn't find help? what if you weren't trained to heal?

what if you'd ended up like tomo? or his parents?

"i'm so sorry," kazuha says again. "i promise you i'll do better. i will."

you look so worried about him. he's not used to seeing that when he's not on the brink of death. "you're beating yourself up, aren't you?" you sigh when he doesn't respond. he tilts his head away from you, but you cup his jaw and keep him facing you. "i'm fine, as you can see. it's just a flesh wound. it's not your fault this happened."

"it is," he insists. "if i wasn't… if-- if i wasn't spider-man, then maybe—"

"don't." your tone leaves no room for argument. "don't say that. don't blame yourself like that. it's not like crime didn't exist before you came on the scene. the odds of something like this happening are the same as they were all those years ago. i agitated them, and this," you point at your bandage, "is my just punishment. plus, you can't be everywhere at once."

kazuha sighs harshly. "that's the problem, dove. who's going to protect you because i can't be everywhere at once? what if they were more aggressive with you? what if i never showed up to check on you? i just… i don't…" don't want to lose you goes unsaid.

i don't want to lose the last ray of light i have left.

you cup his face fully this time and look straight into kazuha's eyes. it's times like these where he feels you can see straight through the mask and see him for who he truly is. your gaze could move mountains, he thinks, could uproot the sturdiest trees. you strip him down to his barest parts when you look at him like this. something flashes in your eyes, something kazuha recognizes. he leans forward and presses his forehead to yours. the two of you close your eyes and just breathe for a moment. it's grounding; like this, he can feel your presence fully. he can hear your heartbeat if he focuses enough — can count the milliseconds between each breath and match the rhythm, syncing the beat of his heart to your own.

a few beats pass. maybe two minutes at best. and then finally, you speak. "i'm right here." you say. it's your way of bringing him out of his own head, a method of calming him that you discovered by chance a few months ago. "i'm here and i'm safe."

"you're right here and you're safe," kazuha repeats your words. as if to confirm it, he wraps his arms around your waist and presses your body close to his own. "you're… right here," he sighs. "and you're safe."

"very good," you whisper. "good." you lean back to look him in the eyes and again, he sees that glimmer. your thumbs stroke the spot where his lips would be almost absent-mindedly. you seem to be thinking about something. it's probably the same thing kazuha is thinking, but neither of you act on it. it wouldn't be the first time either of you have acted on that thought, but neither of you do for a while, with you tracing the rough outline of his lips through his mask. kazuha's heart threatens to burst out of his chest and for a second, he worries if you can hear it.

after a pregnant pause, he throws caution to the wind. kazuha murmurs, "close your eyes." you do as he says without a moment's hesitation and he seizes the moment, pulls his mask up just enough to kiss you. there's no heat to the kiss. it's all leisure; slow and reassuring, a gentle press of lips to remind one another of the present. your lips are soft and warm and you're here, right now, with him, alive and well. he takes a chance and moves his lips and you move yours in tandem, elongating the kiss and extending the moment. pressed chest to chest in your bathroom, you kiss your spider-man as lovingly and as desperately as he kisses you. kazuha's fingers instinctively come up to hold your face but he touches the bandage and makes you flinch. you let out a soft, shocked hum into the kiss, and he lightens up, pecks your lips a few times in apology. "i'm sorry," he whispers over and over between kisses. "i'm sorry."

you kiss back sweetly, reassure him wordlessly that it's okay. after a few more pecks kazuha fixes his mask back in place with a sigh. he catches the moment your eyes flutter open and admires the haze that he finds. "are you still beating yourself up about this?" you ask. your voice is near inaudible, but he hears you.

"a little." he half-chuckles. "i still wish i'd been there to stop it from happening."

"it's okay if you weren't. because what am i?" when kazuha doesn't respond, you start to pinch his cheeks. "hey, i asked you a question. what am i?"

"uh," he replies, his words a little garbled from the pinching, "really cute?" the mood restores itself with a light jest. you chuckle and pinch his cheeks tighter. kazuha hisses a soft chorus of ows and gives in. "okay, okay! you're alive and safe, i got it."

"and don't you fucking forget it." you sound smug, your usual smile brightening your face. something warm washes over you. "thank you for stopping by and patching me up, spider-man. i really appreciate it."

kazuha winces, though you don't see it. he'd gotten so absorbed in the moment that he temporarily forgot that he was in costume. the ocean that reappears between you two with the utterance of his hero name feels so easy to cross, yet simultaneously impossible. "don't mention it. maybe you should return the favor sometime." he forces out the joke.

you laugh and finally release him. "i'll think it over. now get lost, webhead." you pull yourself out of his arms and step aside for him to exit the bathroom and subsequently, your apartment. "i'm sure the rest of the city's wondering where their friendly neighborhood spider-man is. i will admit though," you pause and look in the mirror to admire his handiwork. "you did a pretty good job. i didn't know you knew how to dress wounds this well. you sure i need to return that favor?"

spider-man folds his arms over his chest. "believe it or not, i used to do it myself before i met you."

"hm." you don't say much more on that. "well, okay. go back to helping little old ladies cross the street or whatever."

"is that what you think i do all day?" spider-man asks as the two of you walk to your balcony door.

"what, have you not done that before?"

"...that's besides the point."

"oh my god, wait, i was joking. do you actually do that? i thought that was like, only a thing in comics."

spider-man rolls his eyes, forgets that you can't see that, and shakes his head. he hops on your balcony railing, poised to leave. "good night, dove. i'll see you soon."

you giggle. the sound is music to his ears. "good night, spider-man. be safe."

"you too. for me."

and with a thwip-!, he's gone. probably to help another little old lady across the street.

✦ blinks dryly

✦ poor tomo isn't getting fed until early afternoon... i'm not gettin up early later.

[oh-cramity-its-amity]

Okay! It's been a minute since I got tagged for something, so this'll be fun. My bad for taking so long to get done with this but here ya go.

When did you post your first fanfic?

I posted my first fanfic wayyyy back in 2016 probably but the majority of my backlog is inaccessible due to accounts being deleted and whatnot.

Who was the first character you wrote for?

I think for the time being I'll just say Beca and Chloe from Pitch Perfect. Just because they're the most currant and available on my ao3. That ship was an entire era of my life. MANY YEARS were spent being feral about them ahhh.

Who are the main characters you currently write for?

Oh that's easy. Amity Blight and Luz Noceda from the very niche show, The Owl House /s. I might go back and post more of my old works for Booksmart (which is a 2019 movie) because I miss writing for Amy and Hope too.

What are some characters you have not written about before but plan on writing about soon?

OH THAT'S FUN. Yuu and Toku from Bloom Into You Gideon and Harrowhark from TLT (eventually once I finish the series) Catra and Adora from She-ra I'm sure there's more but I know my TOH brainrot is not escaping me anytime soon. I have a lot of wip drafts for lumity (and amy and hope from booksmart)

What are the fandom(s) you’re currently writing for?

The Owl House all the waaaay.

Platonic Pairings you write for

Hm nothing currently. King and Luz, perhaps if that counts?

Romantic Pairings you write for

Current or? Well, I'm working on a huge lumity longfic atm. That's where my attention span is. Plus, there's going to be some veesha sprinkled in (for all intensive plot purposes) and very background Raeda and Huntlow. I'm not used to writing for more than one ship right now.

My Top Three Tags on Ao3

Fluff, Soulmates, Enemies to lovers.

Current Posting Platform

You can find me on ao3!!! I've linked it several times but here ya go.

Snippet of a WIP

Apart from one other family there remained steady silence that encompassed the space. The cemetery plotted itself far from the street to the point where the sound of traffic became replaced with birds and squirls. Luz kept her head down and scanned the names as they passed by. All these people shared something with her despite never meeting any of them. Grief. It didn’t feel all that comfortable to think about, so she refrained. The worn etching from the rain and seasonal shifts extenuated her father’s stillness beneath the darkened stone. Moss flecked down the underpass of the tree trunk beside him, roots visibly splaying like claws sinking into the skin-like ground. Luz retrieved her hand to then place the flowers in front of the stone. She hoped that she wouldn’t let them escape but her tears threatened to pass down unannounced. It didn’t seem feasible on why she should cry and the act itself seems childish now. Maybe. The flowers laid themselves across the scraggy bladed grass, and Luz leaned up onto her calves to wipe off some of the debris that eroded over the name.

❦ ➷ get to know your fellow fanfic writers better ༊ ✧.*

I had fun doing this! ♡

when did you post your first ever fanfic?

January 2017, I think. wow, it’s been 6 years! (no, I’m not giving you my Wattpad username)

first character you wrote for:

Joker. it was during my Wattpad era. I have zero regret, but I’m not giving the link lol

main character(s) you’re currently writing for:

Daniel Harrow & Henry Creel (as in separate fics that aren’t crossover, but wouldn’t it be nice if I wrote a crossover with these two…)

character(s) you haven’t written about before but plan on writing about soon:

Henry Morgan (from Forever tv) !! also, I’d love to write more about Captain Jack Sparrow

fandom(s) you’re currently writing for:

Harrow & Stranger Things

platonic pairing(s) you currently write for:

Daniel Harrow & Simon Van Reyk (Harrow), Henry Creel & Eleven (Stranger Things)

romantic pairing(s) you currently write for:

I know it’s been more than a year since my last update so I can’t say currently, but Loki/Mobius. other than that the more recent one is Will Byers/Mike Wheeler but even then, it’s still rare. so I guess I focus more on writing platonic relationships lately (honestly it just depends on the characters whom my hyperfixation is on and whether their relationship with the other characters is romantic or platonic.)

your top 3 tags on AO3 (if you post your works on AO3):

whump, hurt/comfort & angst

your current platform where you post your works:

tap HERE for my AO3

snippet of the wip you’re currently working on:

should be posted hopefully within the next few days!

But Harrow forced a smile as he greeted Simon with a hug. And when he hugged Simon, his smile became real. And for a moment Harrow could forget the guilt and the shame he carried with him. For a moment, he could really breathe, knowing that Simon was safe. In his arms.

* aka a fix-it fic where Simon lives.

🏷️ no pressure tags at random: @foodiewithdahoodie @queereldritch @bebataylor84 @ohfallingdisco @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @sillylittlerock @jcbbby @maladaptive-jcb @highwarlockofphilly @can-of-pringles @mirilyawrites @chaos-monkeyy @harringroveera @medium-rare-bimbo @deliaqbower @ripcreel @rins-love-wins @okilokiwithpurpose @lokisgoodgirl @loki-is-my-kink-awakening @daddiesdrarryy @loki-hargreeves @zodiyack @cha-melodius @insert-witty-user-name-here @dewdropreader @blackbirdofasgard @mimisempai @underwhelmingalchemist @excusemefangirlhere @abitofboth @worstloki @littlekinng @andiwriteordie @cluelessbees @suzieburself @waroftheposes @drop-of-infinity @bookinit02 @bizarrelittlemew @ghostalservice @pilkingtonian @thefatedthoughtofyou @brbsoulnomming @spooky-brakers @cosmicanamnesis @cranberrymoons @onirislanding @thefreakandthehair @thisapplepielife — if I didn’t tag you and you’d like to join, please do! everybody is welcome