#I can write more of the words in sentences

[thebibliosphere]

It’s kind of wild watching my brain come back online the more iron I take. I can tell by my writing as I go through edits because I can see, yet again from the start of last year, when my cohesion started to fall apart and I got more and more mired in brain fog that words were getting Hard again. My descriptions were getting clumsy and excessively rambling. Like I can very clearly see I was struggling to find the right words to convey the vibe I wanted and was attempting to use all of them at once in the hopes the correct one would jump out.

And now I’m casually throwing out bangers like “turned his face upward to an apocalyptic sky.” And yes, it’s simple but you get the immediate vibe from the sentence that shit is going down.

It’s not taking me twenty billion disjointed sentences to convey the exact same thing. It gives me more room to go ham with descriptors in other places.

Anyway. Take your god damn vitamins.

[noodledragonsoop]

(Yes, I understand OP mentioned that they were aware of other opinions. I just want to go on a rant about this, it’s certainly not directed at OP. :))

Unpopular opinion here, but I don’t like an overwhelming amount of these words.

I see so many posts hating on ‘said,’ talking about avoiding it at all costs.

If a book didn’t have ‘said’ at all and was just these, I wouldn’t be able to finish it. I need something that makes it feel normal. If too much said bothers you, structure your writing in a way that allows you to use less dialogue tags! Get creative with it, challenge yourself.

If you’re just trying to add flavor, making the dialogue tag verb more descriptive, in my opinion, is the laziest way you can do that. Ruining immersion? You can’t be serious.

I don’t want to know how she growled a sentence.

I want to hear her teeth grinding in rage that masks the stab of betrayal she’s experienced. I want to see her turn away as her hands twitch and her heart thunders in her ears.

I don’t want to hear that he chuckled a response.

I want to see the way his eyes light up with joy as his shoulders ease into a more relaxed position. I want to see the worry lines on his forehead melt into a smile, and I want to hear the crackly undertone his laugh carries from barely ever using it.

I want to feel what they feel, that’s how I am immersed.

I fear ‘spicing it up’ with too many of these words is like adding bright balloons to a plain room. Like sure, it adds plenty of color, but wouldn’t you rather take the time to decorate the room itself than fill it with things that distract you from how plain it might be otherwise?

I think I’ll always prefer ‘said’ and a better description than a more descriptive verb. Of course, don’t avoid using them just because of it, but it’s so easy (again, in my opinion) to overuse them to an extreme.

100 Dialogue Tags You Can Use Instead of “Said”

For the writers struggling to rid themselves of the classic ‘said’. Some are repeated in different categories since they fit multiple ones (but those are counted once so it adds up to 100 new words). 

1. Neutral Tags 

Straightforward and unobtrusive dialogue tags: 

Added, Replied, Stated, Remarked, Responded, Observed, Acknowledged, Commented, Noted, Voiced, Expressed, Shared, Answered, Mentioned, Declared.

2. Questioning Tags 

Curious, interrogative dialogue tags:

Asked, Queried, Wondered, Probed, Inquired, Requested, Pondered, Demanded, Challenged, Interjected, Investigated, Countered, Snapped, Pleaded, Insisted.

3. Emotive Tags 

Emotional dialogue tags:

Exclaimed, Shouted, Sobbed, Whispered, Cried, Hissed, Gasped, Laughed, Screamed, Stammered, Wailed, Murmured, Snarled, Choked, Barked.

4. Descriptive Tags 

Insightful, tonal dialogue tags: 

Muttered, Mumbled, Yelled, Uttered, Roared, Bellowed, Drawled, Spoke, Shrieked, Boomed, Snapped, Groaned, Rasped, Purred, Croaked.

5. Action-Oriented Tags 

Movement-based dialogue tags: 

Announced, Admitted, Interrupted, Joked, Suggested, Offered, Explained, Repeated, Advised, Warned, Agreed, Confirmed, Ordered, Reassured, Stated.

6. Conflict Tags 

Argumentative, defiant dialogue tags:

Argued, Snapped, Retorted, Rebuked, Disputed, Objected, Contested, Barked, Protested, Countered, Growled, Scoffed, Sneered, Challenged, Huffed.

7. Agreement Tags 

Understanding, compliant dialogue tags: 

Agreed, Assented, Nodded, Confirmed, Replied, Conceded, Acknowledged, Accepted, Affirmed, Yielded, Supported, Echoed, Consented, Promised, Concurred.

8. Disagreement Tags 

Resistant, defiant dialogue tags: 

Denied, Disagreed, Refused, Argued, Contradicted, Insisted, Protested, Objected, Rejected, Declined, Countered, Challenged, Snubbed, Dismissed, Rebuked.

9. Confused Tags 

Hesitant, uncertain dialogue tags:

Stammered, Hesitated, Fumbled, Babbled, Mumbled, Faltered, Stumbled, Wondered, Pondered, Stuttered, Blurted, Doubted, Confessed, Vacillated.

10. Surprise Tags

Shock-inducing dialogue tags:

Gasped, Stunned, Exclaimed, Blurted, Wondered, Staggered, Marvelled, Breathed, Recoiled, Jumped, Yelped, Shrieked, Stammered.

Note: everyone is entitled to their own opinion. No I am NOT telling people to abandon said and use these. Yes I understand that said is often good enough, but sometimes you WANT to draw attention to how the character is speaking. If you think adding an action/movement to your dialogue is 'good enough' hate to break it to you but that ruins immersion much more than a casual 'mumbled'. And for the last time: this is just a resource list, CALM DOWN. Hope that covers all the annoyingly redundant replies :)

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Check out the rest of Quillology with Haya; a blog dedicated to writing and publishing tips for authors!

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[potchi-fics]

note: this is all i got cus im really busy this week. ill probably write them having sex soon, just not right now. listened to do i wanna know by hozier while writing this

      the warlord, ambessa medarda, has never encountered someone bold enough to stand their ground against her.

til she met you. an empress of a nation, never afraid to stand up for your people. so when you held your chin up high, chest out, gaze never wavering when you spoke to her, it sparked interest within her soul.

“pride like yours is a death sentence, general. i cannot give you what you want as it endangers my people.” not once did your voice falter, you bring your hand to gesture to your guards, “leave us. escort the general’s as well.”

a wolfish grin takes over her features, “is that your way of saying that you want me all to yourself, your majesty?” her eyes never left yours even when her men are gone, “i must say, i have some thoughts about professional entanglements.”

“arrogance, pride, egotism. thread lightly, general.” you cross your legs on where you sit, the back of your hand supporting your chin—your throne, looking down at her, “i will simply propose a contract. one that would…benefit both our nations.”

you see her raise an eyebrow, the scar above just barely stretching. “and what is that exactly?”

“resources. i know your kind, general. you desire to have power, to control, to take over, and i will not simply let that happen. i will lay down hell on you if you even dare to think of doing that to my land.” eyes devoid of warmth or life, you threaten the warlord standing before you, taking notice of her tensing shoulders, “i know that you are capable of doing that, however, IF we do come to that, i’m afraid the effects of the aftermath will last for more than a lifetime to our nations.”

ambessa’s glare sharpens, your words striking a nerve, “it is not wise to threaten me, your majesty.”

“i am not.”

“what do you call that?”

“the truth.”

      you are bold, confident, daring; it sends shivers up her spine. you are staring daggers at her from where you sit, unmoving, assessing her from head to toe. she should be insulted, but she’s not.

oh, she will have you. 

“i am in agreement with what you have proposed, your majesty.” she bows her head, refusing to kneel to you. 

      you swear on your life that you will have her on her knees for you. 

you rise to your feet, descending down the stairs to stand in front of her, she never took her eyes off of you. ambessa leans down as you signal for her to do so. gently, you take her face in your hands, turning her head to the side so that you can press your cheek against her.

her towering figure presence easily overshadows your entire frame. but you are not intimated—matter of fact, it entices you. 

your whisper caresses her ear like the wind, “wonderful. consider this a treaty of peace, general.”

      the faintest sensation of her jaw clenching against your cheek reaches you. you are playing a dangerous game; dousing a fire with fuel never ends well.

she slowly wraps an arm around your waist, her fingers lightly grazing against your back.

“careful now, lamb.”

[meracyn]

LOSER ISAGI PLS!!! 🙏🙏🙏 I LOVE YOUR WRITING 🙏

CRANKING UP THE MOTORS LIKE THERES NO TOMORROW 🗣️🗣️🔥🔥‼️

loser! isagi being absolutely whipped for you..sigh.

loser! isagi who can’t get over your beauty. seeing you, even if he just catches one glimpse of you— is the highlight of his days. he eventually decides to get a notebook and just. write every single thing he absolutely adores about you. tends to fantasize a lot—he can’t help it. can you really blame him? you look so beautiful to him that if you looked over, you could practically notice the lovesick daze glued to his face.

loser! isagi and his frequent stammering. if he somehow manages to speak a sentence without messing up what he was going to say in the first place, is a win in his book.

loser! isagi who’s practically like a schoolgirl having a crush. except no, what he feels for you isn’t some short-term attraction or anything of the sort. isagi knows he’s in love, his face heating up every time you’re there says it all.

loser! isagi who dreams about you day and night. before he goes to sleep, you’re the last thing replaying on his mind and the first when he wakes up. an endless, sweet melody of you, that consumes his mind entirely.

loser! isagi staring at you during any classes you share together, getting completely lost at the way you look. it doesn’t matter whether you’re focused or not. to yoichi, you somehow manage to look even prettier than the day before.

loser! isagi who imagines many different clichés in his head of the two of you. holding your hands, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, hugging you tightly in fear that you’ll slip away any moment— it’s like some sort of guilty pleasure he indulges in. but it’s all in his head, he thinks. it should be fine if he daydreams a little. everyone does it anyway, right?

loser! isagi who doesn’t pay attention in class to end up doodling little sketches in his notebooks. writing your initials, hearts,—even drawing a (somewhat) tiny cupid with a bow and arrow striking a heart to the stickman version of himself. however, that cupid is you. since you struck him with that arrow the moment he laid eyes on you.

loser! isagi who blushes at any physical contact you make, no matter how light it is. he could literally be asking for a pencil, and as you hand it to him his fingers brush against your thumb, making his cheeks redden, and you didn’t even say anything. that moment will forever be engraved in his mind for the rest of his days.

loser! isagi who tries to gather the courage to ask you out on a date. but once the perfect moment arrives when you’re alone, the words just don’t come out, and so he fails miserably. but he’ll do it someday, just you wait. for now, he’ll have to stay content with the friendly hangouts you offer, even though he wishes it was more than that. but then again, just you wait. you’ll fall for him eventually—if you don’t already, that is.

[ramshacklefey]

One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich and The Things They Carried rewired parts of my brain. The Odyssey was a real treat. (Especially when some of my classmates who found the language rather opaque started gathering around me at morning homeroom to hear my retellings of last night's reading assignment.)

But I know some of you probably have or had a miserable time in English class, and that may have been partly because your school didn't properly prepare you for reading the books ahead of time, so you were just totally at sea all the way through.

If that's the case, here are some tips for getting more enjoyment out of a book you're struggling with!

Look up summaries of individual chapters (CliffsNotes usually has these). Then go back and read them. Having an idea of what's happening might help you follow along with language or writing styles that you're struggling with.

Let yourself skim over particular passages you're baffled by and latch onto the ones that make sense. Finding points that you can follow might help you make sense of the trickier ones by providing context.

If you don't understand a character's motivations, especially in older books and books that take place in a foreign country, it might be because you're missing context. That's okay, and your teacher isn't expecting you to have encyclopedic knowledge of the historical and cultural context for a book.

But also, even in the most unfamiliar circumstances, you can look for things that make sense to you. The characters are still people, and regardless of context, people are still people.

But also, sometimes you just can't relate to the character. That's ok. "Well I would never ____" Yes, but this person did. And here's why. In the world they live in, it made sense or it was the only thing they could do. And there are people in real life who do that. Now you've seen a little bit of why.

You don't have to like all the characters. Some characters (even the protagonists) you're supposed to hate. Sometimes that's because the author is saying, "This bastard is fucked up, but do you see how he got that way?" Sometimes it's, "This bitch made every wrong choice possible, but damn if it didn't make some wild drama."

Remember that sometimes the author may not explain exactly why something happens because it's supposed to be a bit of a mystery at first! Keep reading and see if it gets explained later!

Look up words in the dictionary!!

If you're having trouble keeping a lot of characters in your head, make a cast list. "John is Mary's brother and he's a bit of a dick."

It's okay if there are books you simply do not vibe with. Give them a fair shake, but really, even the kids who love English class are gonna have books they hate. I despised a few of the books I read for school. But remember that struggling with a book and not liking it aren't the same thing!

And for the love of everything holy. Ask. Your. Teacher. Questions. Write them down while you're reading and ask! If you're scared to ask in class, talk to them at another time! But I can guarantee that if you didn't understand something, some of your classmates didn't either. If your teacher is remotely competent, they'll be delighted to answer your questions.

And there are no questions too simple to ask in class!! "Why did this character do this thing?" "What's up with this sentence?" "I tried reading this, and here's what I think the events of this chapter were. Is that really what happened?" "What the heck is a ____?" "Why was this bit in here? It doesn't seem like it's important to the plot." "How do we know that ____ theme is in here?"

Yes, there are themes and symbols and motifs and whatever else in books. Your teacher isn't just making it up. People tell stories for a reason. The author is trying to communicate something to you. "Well why didn't they just say that?" Because saying it in a story shows you something about it. I can tell you, "Love isn't always enough to save you." or I can show you that by telling you a story about two people who fall in love and then get their shit wrecked. I can tell you, "This war happened and it was awful," or I can show you the people who were in it and what it did to them. I can tell you, "The government is a corrupt pile of festering feces," or I can show you what might happen if we keep going on the path we're on.

And you might not agree! You can say, "No, it wouldn't happen like that." You can say, "But this war was worth it because it resulted in this." You can say, "Actually, this particular social outcome seems pretty rad to me." That's okay because stories are a conversation, not the word of God from on high. But again, give the author a fair shake.

The most important thing is that you don't just give up if you're struggling. You're in school to learn! So accept that there are things you don't already know.

I straight up do not trust you if you did not enjoy a single book you had to read for English class. I know they assigned some real stuffy stinkers and the curriculum varies across districts but not one? Not The Outsiders? Not The Picture of Dorian Gray? Not Fahrenheit 451? Not even Frankenstein? Damn. That’s crazy.

[corviiids]

hello thank you for asking i am very flattered. i would be most honoured to give some advice that i am most certainly unqualified to give!!

ok advice 1: hey why does everyone keep telling me to read and write a lot

i think this is the most commonly given advice. i have always found it true but incomplete, because on the face of it this kind of focuses a little too much on volume. which by itself just isn't going to do that much for you, or it will, but it'll do it very slowly and ineffectively, because the second part of this advice i don't see nearly as much (and the part that makes it work for me) is that after you read or write something you need to do The Why Interrogation. what are you looking for?

when you like something, why do you like it? not just in terms of copying and learning an author's stylistic quirks or techniques, but in a more abstract way:

is it the narrative? that the premise is novel, that the progression of the story is unexpected and thrilling, that the stakes are high?

is it the characters? what is it about them? do they have compelling backgrounds? does the author spend a lot of time in their heads? is the pov internal in a way that lets you experience the story from their shoes? does their biased narration tell you more about them? or is it a detached narration that lets you see the characters in a way they don't see themselves, so the gap is intriguing?

is it the telling? maybe the prose is beautiful - what makes it so? sentence structure? unconventional use of grammar and punctuation? elegant, sophisticated vocabulary? or maybe the dialogue is sharp and human so conversation flows naturally. is the story paced carefully? does the author linger more in certain moments?

the same exercise is useful for what ISN'T working.

if your attention is drifting, what's making it drift?

purple prose? clumsy prose?

does the narration drag?

do the characters feel stagnant, and why?

plot doesn't make any sense?

maybe this sounds obvious, but imo it's a crucial piece of the advice that i just don't see as much because people tend to focus on volume of works consumed/created. the reflection and analysis is what makes that volume useful, otherwise you're just churning through content. the question should always be why, why, why. why did that work, why didn't it work, why did i like this, why does it suck. then proceed to: if i were doing this, how could i make it work?

advice 2: don't forget that all the words you need already exist.

this is more subjective advice. this is something that works for me personally. so ymmv. have you ever tried magnet poetry? you should try magnet poetry.

i always see writing as kind of a puzzle. if i have an idea in my head, the idea exists. the job is actually a translation exercise: how do i express the thing in my head as a thing other people can see? in this way it's like visual art, but it's also not like visual art at all. in visual art you choose where all the lines and colours go, completely freely. any line you draw is a brand new line.

in language, all your parts already exist. all the words already exist. (you can make new ones if you want but that's a whole different thing.) you are plucking symbols out of a collective understanding. it is like lego. all you are doing is selecting the most effective pieces and placing them in order. so for me, i am simply trying to find the 'right' words to fit each context as best as possible. it becomes a game of arrangement, which determines your expression.

then syntax and punctuation become your rhythm, which is how you determine flow. sentence length, word length, whether you omit words or use more, whether you want to be a bit unconventional. character also plays into this - i am not writing an advice 3 because i am getting self conscious but advice 3 would have been consistency of voice.

so i would prioritise vocabulary and timing. what are you trying to say (which words do you pick) and how do you want the reader to experience your words, how do you want the words to feel and sound (how will you pace your sentences)? remembering that all the parts are already there. it is the world's biggest game of magnet poetry.

advice 3 which doesn't exist: keep your voice consistent.

this advice doesn't exist. im not writing this i got embarrassed and stopped at 2. but if i did write this it would say, remember who you are. (remember who is writing your story. are you a character or are you god? remember how much you know. remember which feelings you have access to.)

[cinnablu3]

RECKLESS - ALL I WANTED WAS YOU

Masterlist

Ch 18, i lied about 20 chapters we might have 21.

After Utahime leaves, you find yourself alone, your heart racing. The time for Choso's arrival is drawing near. "I have to be honest with him, no matter the consequences," you remind yourself. Just then, there's a knock on the door.

Immediately opened the door and pulled Choso inside. "Easy, I know I said I couldn’t be spotted, but you were quick with it, doll," he teased.

"Cho." He immediately embraces you, wrapping his arms around your waist and squeezing you. He presses his lips against your forehead.

"Glad to know you miss me."

"I'm sorry about--" "Don't even finish that sentence. It wasn't your fault." He said, hiding his face inside your neck. "Give me a minute, I miss you, Doll."

It was a peaceful silence as he pulled away slowly. "I'm sorry. I wasn't even in jail for that long, but even then." He laughed. "I did miss you."

You couldn't hold back your smile, feeling the ache in your heart, knowing he wouldn't have the same feelings for what you were going to tell him.

"Choso take a seat please I need to get something off my ch--" "That you agreed to the kiss?" He interrupts, you can feel your heart drop. "He told me." He gives you a bitter smile.

"I'm not angry, I shouldn't be upset since we aren't even together," he says as he takes a seat on your couch. "Though, you wouldn't believe how frustrated I was when we had to share a cop car and a cell." He crosses his arms.

"He complains a lot, it really did makes me wonder what you saw in him."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his statement.

"I'm serious, I can't find anything attractive that could have caught your attention."

"That's a little harsh even for you."

"I told him, got in a fight in the cell." He grins, "I was supposed to get out much earlier but someone got offended and took another beating."

"I'm trying my best to be serious with you, I can't with you telling me all this information." You sighs holding back a smile.

He pushes back a strand of hair behind your ear. "Just know I forgive you, even though I was hurt about it, I just want to know." He turns serious. "Did you feel sparks?"

"I didn't, that's when I realized he wasn't someone I wanted my name to be attached to."

"Good, because being attached to mine is way better. Sounds better as well."

"I want to be with you, Choso. I do," You paused. "I want to talk to Satoru, can I? Just to clear everything and end things completely."

"That's a terrible idea, Name. He doesn't need an explanation. You don't have to acknowledge him anymore."

"Choso.."

"I'm serious. Write a letter if you have to.. that sounds terrible I'm sorry.." He puts his hands on his face embarrassed of his words. "I just don't want to feel like my feelings are being played with."

"You're valid for how you feel, I'll write a letter and that's it no more." Giving him a serious look.

"Promise?"

"Promise Cho."

"That's a promise. Just don't give me false hope that's all I ask." He intertwines his pinkies with yours.

"Since you kissed him, it's only fair that I finally do." He leans in and gently cuffs your face before pressing his lips against yours.

You couldn't hold back a smile.

"Glad to know you're out of jail, in good piece" Shoko teases pointing at Satoru eye as he sticks his tongue out.

"Don't remind me. That emo said I whine too much."

"He's not wrong."

"Shoko, don't you think it's rude to bully a friend?" Suguru speaks up.

"Thank you Sugu-"

"Especially when he has two ugly blackeyes by his nemesis." He smirks.

"My manager is going to kill me." He throws himself on the couch pouting. "Maybe don't respond so quickly especially when you can't fight Satoru," Shoko replied.

"I can fight, I was just drunk." He groans, "Speaking of drunk does Name know you're here?" Shoko looks off to the side and is silent.

"Utahime and her are currently not speaking to her after the whole party." Suguru chimed in putting a hand on her shoulder.

"That sounds like Utahime doing, not Name. She is not someone that often cuts people off."

"Look, can we not talk about this guys? I cannot have another reason why I need a cigarette again." She rubs her head.

"Why don't you storm for Utahime and ask to take you back?" Satoru looks up at her while she raises a brow.

"What?"

"For once, I'm desperate. I want my friends back, tell me. You guys can't be my only friends."

"So.. I was thinking.."

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[asherthehimbo]

Homesick

pairing: traveling photographer! Hongjoong x local! reader

wordcount: 718

warnings: uhm, one or two suggestive sentences but like thats it, mentions of alcohol and going out drinking, ( gender of reader not specified but like involves cutesy texts so take that as you will)

notes: guys i love Mico sm and this song BEEEN stuck in my head so here you go. I AM busy working on Guardians and Bloody sunrise but this was a short little drabble I had since I've been suprisingly busy so its easier for me to write this format than full length chapters rn

Hongjoong is a traveling photographer, his habit of drifting from place to place quite literally in the job description, yet to him there's no place like home. He can never be away from home for more than a week, gets this bubbling anxiety in his stomach that twists in all the wrong ways. He likes home, he likes his own studio where he can secretly work on music without another person's judging ears, he likes his home built darkroom, refusing to develop the photos of his work, when needed physically, anywhere but there.

He's made quite the name for himself, ‘the photographer who gets bored of places easily’, while it may not be the truth, he lets people believe it because it's less embarrassing than the fact that in all honesty he just gets homesick. The title has people scrambling to employ him, thinking he's some sort of elitist artist if he deems himself better than a place after a few days, which isn't what happens, but watching his bosses for the contracts scramble to try and have him stay, to show why they're place is the best has its benefits.

Yet his favorite benefit of all has to be you, a local hired by the same company that hired him to help guide him through the town. He's spent four days with you already, his flight back home leaves tomorrow and while usually around this time he'd be missing home desperately, the thought of returning, of leaving this town, leaving you, hasn't crossed his mind once since he came here, since he met you, until you brought it up, “Wanne go out to celebrate your last night here?” your words were like a punch to the gut, a reminder that this wasn't home, that to you he was just a tourist, a man with a job, to you, he was your job.

He agreed, of course he did, anything that would have him spend more time with you. In all your drunk babelings, all your compliments and teasing flirting, never once did you ask him to stay. It was all his alcohol filled mind could think about, how the words might fall from your lips which he so desperately wanted to kiss. He wanted you to ask him to stay, to beg him to stay. He must've run though a thousand different scenarios on how you would, if it would be spur of the moment, right before he had to leave for the airport, if there would be actions or words leading up to it, if you'd ask pleadingly, or if you'd ask breathlessly between kisses- the last one was his favorite. Yet you didn't. The night dragged on, he crashed at your place, woke up the next morning to you smiling down at him who was sprawled out on your couch.

You drove him to the airport, you saw him off, not once did your smile leave your lips, not once did you show an inkling of want, of yearning, of needing him to stay the way he needed you too. He arrived home with your name still on his tongue, no- not home. Hongjoong stood in front of his house, but it did nothing to cure the homesickness, not when it only started the moment he had entered the plane gates, when you had disappeared from his sight.

“Hii Joong ₍ᐢ.ˬ.⑅ᐢ₎ lmk when you get home safe! I hope I made your time here enjoyable, if your ever back in town id be happy to show you around some more, get some rest much love (づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡”

your text message was like a shock to his system, on one hand he had your number, you'd willingly reached out to him ever after you were done, you'd checked up on him, it made his heart race. On the other hand, it was formal, it was an invitation to use you as a guide again, not a friend, nor something more, the message was a formality, one probably sent to all your clients, that made his stomach drop.

It didn't matter, he’d make sure he was back in your hometown, he'd make sure to see you again, he'd make sure to make you his. He didn't get this good at his job by giving up.

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[chamthepeng]

I started writing fics 1.5 years ago. It was my very first attempt and boy, was it bad. Like it stank! I had my friend beta read it, he asked me why was my writing so rigid. I took offense to it initially cause I thought I did good so I asked him to send me a fic he liked. Finally, after much reading, I noticed the vast difference between writing a fic and what I had been doing. I wrote in a way how my school had taught me and that's what made it so rigid. Dead. Stone-like. English exam composition-like.

Writing fics literally reprogrammed my brain to pay attention to the sentence structure, the vocabulary (yes, I had to learn more and more words) and the tone.

Now, I'm not a reader. Not that I don't read. It's just something I don't enjoy. I'm more of an artist. I like to draw.

But writing fics forced me to read more. Not like an obligation but because I had an objective. I had an aim. I want to write better fics. So I read.

Time passed and after much writing, I finally got it. I found a writing style I can call my own. I'm not much of a purple prose writer nor am I good in metaphors. So I don't force myself into it if I'm not that. I reread my older chapters and revised them simply because it can be better.

The past 1.5 years went by fast and looking back, all I can think of is all the effort I have put into my fics. And boy, am I proud of them!

i get so happy when people that are new to fanfic writing, or just writing in general, post their work on ao3. despite their doubts, despite their fear of something so personal and vulnerable being perceived, they still press that button, and i turn into the equivalent to a proud mom cheering on the sidelines. like yes! you did that! your work is worth seeing! you deserve to share your passion for and be part of a community! i’m so proud of you!

[callmemonster68]

NIKI - Fallen Angel ( smut )

Cast out of heaven for breaking the rules, but finding redemption in the pleasures of a mortal.

Pairing: Niki, a fallen angel X FemReader

Genre: Obscenity

Warning: Contains explicit content, unprotected sex, suggestive, penetration, explicit language, climax, sex, swearing, loss of virginity, hickeys, messy make-out sessions, dirty talk, compliments, rough sex, touching bruises, handcuffs, chains, sadomasochism , masochism, brands

Note: I'm recently starting to write, and English is not my native language. I apologize for any mistakes and hope to improve my writing. Feedback is always welcome!

Niki, the fallen angel, had been banished from Heaven with a seemingly eternal sentence. Each feather of his once-radiant wings now carried a sinister black hue, a mark of his transgression. He wandered among humans but found no solace. His nights were consumed by insatiable desires—a hunger no mortal seemed able to satisfy... until he met Y/N.

The first time he saw her, something inside him shattered. It wasn’t just desire—it was need. She was like a whispered prayer in the darkness of his soul, and Niki knew she would either save him or lead to his ultimate destruction.

One night, under the pale moonlight, he approached her. His presence was intense, as though he drew the air from the space around him. Y/N stared at him, both intrigued and cautious. He seemed otherworldly.

Niki: “You feel it, don’t you?”

His voice was deep, a whisper laced with dark promises. He lifted a hand, almost touching her face, but stopping just short.

Niki: “The power that surges between us...”

Y/N took a step back, but he followed, his eyes gleaming with something more than human.

Niki: “You want me as much as I want you.”

He smiled, cruelly, as though savoring the thought.

Niki: “Don’t run. I’ve already decided… You will be mine.”

----------TIME SKIP----------

The days that followed were a game of power. Niki appeared whenever he wanted, invading her dreams and her reality. He made Y/N feel small but powerful, as if she had control over him—though she knew it was the opposite.

Niki: “You enjoy this, don’t you?”

He whispered, gripping Y/N’s chin firmly, forcing her to look at him.

Niki: “The way I hold you, how I dominate every part of your being. Don’t deny it. I can feel your heartbeat quicken.”

S/N: “You’re insane.”

Niki: “Maybe, but you belong to me. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that never changes.”

Then he disappeared again, leaving Y/N in confusion, unsure if it had all been a dream or if it was real.

----------TIME SKIP----------

This time was different. He didn’t wait for midnight to find her. It was early evening, as Y/N went through her nightly routine before bed, that he appeared. Startled, she jumped at the sight of Niki’s devilish grin. He enjoyed testing her limits, teasing her with words that carried as much desire as threat.

Niki: “You’re fragile, human, but that’s what excites me. Watching you break… and beg me to continue.”

Y/N tried to pull her arms away, but he laughed, low and husky.

Niki: “No. Not so fast. I told you, you’d be mine. And fallen angels don’t break their promises, little one.”

He moved closer, pressing their bodies together, studying her reactions. He leaned in, his lips just a breath away from hers. When she didn’t pull back, he closed the distance, kissing her—a wild kiss from the start. Y/N broke away, gasping for air, which only made Niki laugh, a deep, throaty sound, as though reveling in her innocence and desperation.

Niki: “You want this as much as I do, giving in so easily. I knew it would happen, but you’re outdoing yourself—like a desperate little puppy at my mercy.”

Y/N’s face flushed deep pink, her body growing warmer. She couldn’t deny it—she felt fear, but she was desperate to be touched, consumed by him. And he knew it, savoring the anticipation of what was to come.

Niki guided S/N to the bedroom. With a snap of his fingers, her clothes lay in shredded pieces on the floor. She tried to cover herself with her hands and arms, but Niki stopped her. Kneeling, he picked up a scrap of fabric and used it to bind her hands behind her back, gagging her as well. Y/N didn’t resist; she knew she wouldn’t win a fight against him. Truth be told, she wouldn’t say it aloud, but she was growing more eager for what was to come.

Y/N had long realized that Niki was a sadistic, cruel brat who would ruin her in every way imaginable—and she wanted it. She had spent her life searching for someone who could break her, someone who could destroy her completely. She never found it—until now. She was about to have the most painful and pleasurable experience of her life.

Niki conjured a dagger with a black blade, and Y/N’s eyes widened in fear of what he might do. His usual devilish grin was in place, his eyes alight with desire as he trailed the dagger toward her soft skin. He pressed the blade lightly against her neck, causing a superficial cut, and then pulled it away. Locking eyes with her, he leaned in and licked the blood from the wound, sucking at it. With her blood still on his lips, he kissed her.

She would have found it strange—disgusting, even—if a friend had described such an act. But here she was, finding it unbearably hot. Niki pulled back.

Niki: “That was just the first. I’ll mark you every time I take you. It’s a sign, a warning, a confirmation that you’re mine—and you’ll be marked as such forever.”

In an instant, Niki stripped himself bare. Y/N was stunned by the sight of him, especially by the size of him—it was the largest she’d ever seen. Her mouth watered with desire, and Niki didn’t miss the reaction.

Niki: “You filthy bitch, staring at my cock like a starving dog eyeing a bowl of food.”

A loud slap echoed in the room. Niki had struck Y/N across the face, bringing tears to her eyes. The humiliation he was making her feel only heightened her arousal.

Niki: “On all fours on the bed, now!”

Y/N obeyed immediately, her face pressed against the mattress, her ass raised high—the most perfect sight Niki had ever seen. He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself behind her. He aligned his cock with the wet entrance of her pussy. One hand gripped her bound wrists while the other tangled in her hair, forcing her face down. Without warning, he thrust deeply into her.

Y/N felt a mix of pain and indescribable ecstasy as he stretched her walls, reaching depths no one else ever had. His rhythm was brutal, relentless. He fucked her while degrading her with the dirtiest insults, and with each one, her pussy clenched him tighter.

Niki: “Filthy little human, you like being treated like a cheap slut. Then that’s exactly what you’ll get.”

Without warning, Niki pulled out. He untied the scrap of fabric binding her hands and set her free. Tossing her aside, he ripped the gag from her mouth and laid back on the bed.

Niki: “Come on. Ride me!”

Y/N got up, positioning herself over Niki. She aligned the head of his cock with her entrance and locked eyes with him.

Y/N: “An angel? You’re nothing but a depraved demon. You shouldn’t even have the right to keep those wings.”

Smirking, she lowered herself fully onto Niki’s cock. His hands gripped her thighs tightly, leaving marks on her skin. S/N rode him with fervor, setting a rapid, devoted pace.

Niki: “You’re the one who should be an angel, so divine, with such a perfect pussy—lifting me to heaven.”

Y/N: “Your cock fills me so perfectly. It’s like I’m being possessed by the Devil.”

It didn’t take long for both of them to climax together. Y/N collapsed onto Niki’s bare chest, both of them utterly spent. As Niki ran his fingers through her hair, Y/N traced her fingers along the feathers of his wings.

Suddenly, a cold air filled the room, and a mist began to form. Y/N felt the feathers of Niki’s wings vibrating beneath her hands. Their startled gazes met, and in a quick motion, both sat up, facing each other on the bed.

Within seconds, the mist enveloped Niki, and when it dissipated, his wings had vanished. Y/N’s eyes widened in shock as she noticed something unusual atop Niki’s head.

S/N: “Niki, you have horns on your head!”

This story is part of the universe of ' Divine Sins: Immortal Fantasies with ENHYPEN ' created by me.Description:Seven sensual and mysterious tales that delve into the desires between mortals and immortals. Inspired by the members of ENHYPEN, these stories reimagine the group as powerful gods and a fallen angel, all wickedly alluring and irresistibly seductive. Each narrative immerses readers in a world of fantasy, unveiling forbidden passions, divine secrets, and the overwhelming intensity that sparks between celestial beings and an ordinary human. A universe brimming with lust, mystery, and the captivating allure of the forbidden, where every story is an invitation to desire. Contains mature content.

✿ If you don't reblog and comment, you can be sure I'll be showing up in your dreams tonight... and I won’t be as sweet as in the story ✿

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Dialogue: Compliments

Compliment - a verbal or written remark that expresses admiration, respect, or praise for another person or group.

The definition of compliment includes the general expression of good wishes or affirmations on quality, as in the example sentence, “My compliments to the chef.”

Studies show that compliments can activate the brain’s reward center, promote positivity, and help build self-esteem and overall good mental health.

Types of Compliments

You can compliment anyone, from family members to coworkers to strangers on the street. Some compliments include the following:

Accomplishments: You can compliment someone about their past or recent achievements. You could compliment a significant personal win like reaching a career goal or a minor victory like guessing the word of the day on a challenging crossword puzzle.

Appearance: You can view these compliments as flattering comments about how someone looks on a particular occasion or about attributes like beautiful eyes, skin, or hair.

Creativity: Compliments about creativity might include kind statements about someone’s artistic ability or creative solutions to issues, projects, or problems.

Intelligence: When you compliment someone’s intelligence, you could give them a sincere compliment about a specific situation or playfully tell them they’re a smart cookie in a general sense.

Personality: Compliments about someone’s personality cover many areas and might include statements about the person having a great sense of humor, being a great listener, or always seeing the silver lining in difficult situations.

Whole person: You can compliment someone about how you view them, such as telling them they’re an awesome friend or a great sister.

Examples of Compliments to Give

The best compliments come from the heart and are unique and specific to the person you’re addressing. Consider the following compliment suggestions:

You have a beautiful smile.

You always light up a room.

I love your style.

That color looks great on you.

I love your sense of humor; you always make me laugh.

I’m impressed by your ability to stay calm and focused when things are stressful.

Your ideas are so innovative and fresh.

You’re always so helpful.

I appreciate your honesty.

I always have fun when I’m with you.

You’re stronger than you think you are.

I’m grateful you’re in my life.

You’re an inspiration to me.

You add so much to our community; I’m glad you’re here.

I admire that you always speak up with your opinion.

I always feel comfortable being myself around you.

You’ve brought such joy into my life.

I love how curious you are about how things work.

You’re such a good team player and considerate of others.

You’re so patient when dealing with others’ problems.

How to Compliment Someone

Giving a compliment might feel awkward at first, but with practice, you’ll experience the benefits of improved relationships and an overall sense of wellness. Follow these guidelines when giving a compliment:

Be specific. The more detailed your compliment, the more impactful it feels to the person receiving it. Telling someone they’re a good listener is lovely, but telling them about a specific time when they made you feel heard them feels more meaningful.

Embrace sincerity. Most people can sense when a compliment is insincere, so tell the truth when giving praise. Avoid giving compliments you don’t believe, such as telling them they’re attractive when you don’t find them attractive or telling someone they did a good job when they failed at the task.

Include strangers. Avoid reserving compliments just for people you know well. A well-timed and honest compliment to someone you don’t know can make their day, even if it’s about something simple. Avoid complimenting people you don’t know well on their physical appearance.

Notice the good things. Pay attention to your family, friends, loved ones, and coworkers, and note their good qualities and accomplishments. When you spend a lot of time with people, it’s easy to only focus on problems or negative issues that need solutions. Incorporate taking in the positive and giving compliments regularly to forge stronger connections and make a habit of noticing the good.

How to Respond to a Compliment

In some cases, you may find receiving compliments creates anxiety, especially if you suffer from low self-esteem. Follow these tips when responding to a compliment:

Avoid rejecting the compliment. Sometimes receiving compliments feels uncomfortable, making you impulsively want to give credit to someone else, turn it into a joke, or tell the person why you don’t deserve the accolades. Though you may feel all these things internally, do your best to avoid verbalizing your self-doubt, which could make the other person feel foolish or rejected.

Express your gratitude. Accept the compliment as you would a gift, saying “thank you.” If you wish, you can expand on your appreciation by adding how the compliment made a difference (either as a positive emotion or as an encouragement to keep going).

It’s about the giver as much as it’s about you. When someone compliments you, they tell you how your behavior or actions impacted them, which may feel like a vulnerable act for them. Remember that how you respond can have an emotional effect on the receiver.

Redirect compliments meant for someone else. If someone compliments you about an action or work you didn’t do, redirect them to the right person while supporting their desire to give a compliment. For example, if someone compliments you about a work project you didn’t do, you might say, “That’s so nice of you to say that! Actually, Kim completed that job. I’m sure she’d love to hear your feedback.”

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[dollwhite]

K.O K.O K.O

𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 ��𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞

This is just a small story,I don’t know if I’m going to make it big. But if I don’t pls feel free to use my idea just give me credit!!

TW mentions if highness(aka weed)

No mentions of y/n

This isn’t really in my writing style, I wanted to try something different. If people like this I will write with this style more!!

Ps I need friends.

𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇

High,you were high as a light house right now. You found some old weed underneath your bed.Can weed get old? How old were you again? As more questions flooded your mind. You didn’t hear your name being called.

𝐊.𝐎

Where did the music go?.. just a few minutes ago, some random song was blasting .But now it’s like you could hear a pen drop.

𝐊.𝐎

Wait, this isn’t your bed? This isn’t your bedroom, you had black cat pictures on the door leading towards your bathroom. This isn’t your apartment…?

𝐊.𝐎

Who was that.. who was that calling you name?.. her voice sounds familiar. who is she. Do you know her. Isn’t her name R-Ram.?… why is she yelling your name..

“Ram..? What-were am I?..”

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬.

It’s like something’s in your mouth blocking the flow.like the words aren’t meant to be there.

what’s wrong with you.

“K.o we have to go right now! The police are here come on.”..

As you sat up taking a full look around who ever room you were in. It looks nice, nothing out of the ordinary.

𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒

“Are you sure this is the right address?” A figure with a blue bird embezzled on their chest spoke softly under their breath, but just loud enough for the other people on coms to hear. Also Taking notice of the youngest robin standing on top of a nearby building, waiting for the signal that Batman was supposed to be giving.

Police man were also on the scene, so all the suspects can be taking in to custody right away.

“Robin,Night-wing come in.” A deep voice came over the coms. The dark night himself was here to investigate this “party” in reality it was a human trafficking operation. The party was to lure young women primarily.

“I’m in, there’s approximately only three people left in this houses it looks like the others have left.” Robin’s voice filled the coms, informing his mentors about the situation.

As Robin makes a b line for the living room, Batman in the backyard looking for any kinda clues of were the traffickers went. And Nightwing in the bedrooms.

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘

“Guys I found something…or someone” Nightwings words ring over coms. “Im on my way!” Batman yelled, Gotham dark night himself rushing into the house through the backdoor. Passing the youngest boy wonder, on the way.

“What-!” Batman stopped midway through his sentence. He know that this ‘party’ was just a cover up for human trafficking. But what he didn’t expect was to find a young woman high out of her mind. Maybe this was their new victim, and well they were in a hurry to get out of this house. They forgot to take her.

“Grab her, and take her back to the cave.” He said, “Don’t let the cops see you.”

“Alright pretty lady, up we go!” Night wing explained grabbing her in a bridal style.

“ promise not to drop me?..” you asked fear laced in your voice. “ Only a dummy would drop a pretty lady like you.” Nightwing said opening up a nearby window,shifting your weight on his more dominant arm.

he grabbed a all black grappling hook, “Hold on real tight for me?”

“Wait-what?!” You gasped, your hold on him tightening.

𝐁𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐕𝐄

“Red I need you to do a saliva test”

“Nightwing, I’m not going to test you for stds go to a clinic” Red Robin said not taking his eyes off of the bat computer.”When have I ever asked you to- never mind that, the tests not for me it’s for her.”

“Who?” Red Robin asked turning around to look at Nightwing. Only to see a woman just staring back at him, in Nightwings arms. “uh, who’s she?” He asked, he prayed Niightwing didn’t just take a rondo lady off the street. ”this is pretty lady, pretty lady meet Red Robin.” “hi, uh I’m k.O” you said in a casual tone, as you climbed down from Nightwings arms. “Hey k.O, why is she her??” Red Robin said,”Br-Batman said your weren’t allowed to bring your flings in the cave”

”…she’s a woman we found at the party, we think they drugged her with something.”

That’s the end of K.O K.O K.O!!!! low-key think I cooked with this 😫 I tried my best to write for Tim, I think he gives off a moody teen vibes 😭 if y’all hit any suggestions for writing for Tim don’t be say drop them in my doll house!! It’s 4:18 am I got school in the morning wish me luck 😔 i

[socialjusticeinamerica]

Firstly I’ve never seen a public school cafeteria that nice. That’s probably a private school or a very wealthy suburb.

Not only do teachers have to buy their own supplies but most buy lunches for multiple kids per day. That’s in addition to buying them clothes, especially winter clothes. They also buy the students supplies such as notebooks and writing instruments.

You really don’t know what hardship, misery, and suffering are until you’ve worked in a poor inner-city school. Children with no winter clothes walking to school in blizzards with flip-flops, t-shirts, and shorts. Children eating nothing outside of the food served at school. Every disease known to mankind rampaging through the building continually because nobody had healthcare. Children with all sorts of birth defects that could be remedied but aren’t because there’s no money or insurance. Students living in rented attics or basements that had only a small sink for bathing and food prep, and one toilet which wasn’t even in an enclosed room. Owning only one set of clothes that had to be washed in the sink nightly with just water because there was no soap let alone detergent. Living out of a car during blizzards that dropped several feet of snow. Poverty so bad it makes a single wide trailer in a shitty southern trailer park look luxurious.

Everyone who says the poor need to pull themselves up by their own bootstraps needs a punch in the face followed by a yearlong sentence to live in a Northeastern tenement (top floot). All these Republican millionaires in Congress who say aid to the poor would only make them more depended or that they’ll only waste it on booze, cigarettes, and scratch tickets should be sentenced to life in prison.

It is heartbreaking beyond words to see the absolute despair of the impoverished children in cities and not much better for the rural poor. The richest country on earth and we have the most poverty in the first world. A UN report in the late 2010’s said we had poverty as bad or worse than the third world. I didn’t need anyone to tell me that. I lived it and I spent half my life trying to help those mired in it.

All those who look down on the poor and downtrodden in this country can go f—k themselves with a rusty railroad spike. The absolute inhumanity and black hearted callousness among the rich and the Republican millionaires they elect is beyond sinful. You can’t be a Christian and not feed children in schools.

Half this country are worse off than feudal serfs. The oligarchs and their monstrous Republican puppets and right-wing fan boys should be given the same fate as the monarchy during the French Revolution. Something has to change soon either through policy or revolution.

[cosmic-giraffe]

PLEASE make that post about reducing hasemura and hirojima down to just their ships im desperate to see people complain about this please i hate it so much

Ask anon, and you shall receive

First of all, I touched on this issue a few weeks ago, as you can read here, so I'll try and explain my thought process better! Secondly, this less of a complaint, and more of a study in fandom etiquette and the like.

I think people narrowing down the characters of Ken, Kazutoshi, Ojima and Hiroaki to their respective ships isn't an issue solely in the Tetro fandom, or Danganronpa as a whole. It's an issue in any media that includes queer ships, or ships in general (which is literally any media ever). As a gay person, I'll be speaking from my experience with this problem in fandom.

First of all, Hasemura. Both Ken and Kazutoshi are very interesting characters on their own, and their chemistry is undeniable. I'm a sucker for these two; for somebody as shy and socially awkward as Ken to befriend a brooding, jaded guy like Kazutoshi makes for some very fun and insightful interactions. Their contrasting lives and personalities are one of the draws for their dynamic. There was obviously something going on between the two of them, even if they never got the chance to vocalize or even understand the feelings they had. But this will-they-won't-they aspect of their dynamic isn't all that's to them.

Kazutoshi was a very depressed individual. He'd faced many hardships in his life, from losing his family at a young age to his myriad of health issues, to his mental illnesses resulting in multiple failed suicide attempts. But outside of his trauma, Kazutoshi was a very smart person. He was a forensic crime scene cleaner for God's sake, which definitely isn't an easy profession, mentally or physically. He wanted to study, he wanted to move past his hardships and flourish, he wanted to live. Just like everybody else in the killing game. But Kazutoshi was a total asshole, which I love. He didn't hold his tongue and kept people at arm's length out of fear of being hurt again.

Ken is the inverse of that. He has a supportive family, he has wealth, he has a support system in place. He might not be the loudest personality in the room, and he might stumble over his words more often than he can get a full sentence out, but Ken is a very kind and considerate individual.

For people to reduce all the intricacies and nuance of their characters and writing to their ship is doing them both a huge disservice. There's so much more to them than that. It's so much more interesting to view Kazutoshi and Ken's potential for a relationship as a small piece in the puzzle of their lives, instead of it being all-encompassing.

Going back to Kazutoshi, it is very sad to see the main takeaway from his death being "He never got to tell Ken that he loved him!" Which, yes, is undeniably tragic. In media, there's a sad trope called "Bury your gays", in which gay characters are killed off before they can ever have a happy ending.

I'm definitely not accusing Von of this, as Danganronpa has plenty of queer characters that die off (Chihiro, Mondo, Taka, Ibuki, Nagito, Tenko, etc.). But for people to look over all the missed opportunities Kazutoshi will never get the chance to experience because of his brutal death in favour of making his loss about Ken again is not the best look.

Now, onto Ojima and Hiroaki, because BOY do I have thoughts about these two, mainly Hiroaki (the little shit he is, I love him so much lmao).

These two suffer the same issue as Hasemura, that being all their characterization being boiled down to their shipping potential. Which isn't unsurprising, as they're two skinny pale twinks in an anime art style, which is like crack for teenage fujoshis lmao

But on a serious note, Ojima and Nakamigawa are more similar to each other than Ken and Kazutoshi are. Both have tense relationships with their families and their reputation, both have unresolved trauma, and both of them have an interest and career in the arts.

But that's where they differ. Ojima is an illustrator, and has a very intense crunchtime to navigate under in his profession. The stress of having to create art for countless projects definitely has its toll on him, but he still retains the passion that got him into this sector in the first place. Ojima doesn't have a bombastic personality, but he is stern when he needs to be, and is definitely one of the more mature students in the killing game. His bouts of disassociation are also an integral aspect of his character, and they are intermittent and uncomfortable.

And Hiroaki is one of the most annoying students ever and I love him. He's crass, pompous, has an irritating holier-than-thou attitude to anybody he deems to be beneath him, and can't take what he dishes out. He constantly picks fights and insults people, and then acts surprised when nobody wants to be around him. But underneath all that veneer of flashy designer clothes and bad boy image, Hiroaki is a very insecure boy that needs somebody to reel him in and let him know that being open, honest, and in touch with his feelings isn't at all a bad thing to be. He's shown his more sensitive side when he thinks Ojima is dissociating, when Tsuno was upset and she sought comfort from him out of all the other students in the school, and when he helped Hama and Wada grieve the loss of Isono, Chiba and Harada.

Hiroaki has the capability to grow and become a better person, and due to recent events, he is starting to do so. I hope he stays on this path and doesn't backtrack when things get tough.

Now, onto their dynamic. Ojima and Hiroaki obviously contrast and compliment each other well. This is all thanks to Von's writing. When Hiroaki shoots his mouth off, it's almost always Ojima that reels him in. When Ojima is in one of his lapses, it's usually Hiroaki who keeps him company by simply staying in the room, drawing, while he patiently waits for him to come back. They share dorm rooms to the point they're basically one room, they share clothes, they even share beds sometimes. The chemistry between them is undeniable, and that's why they're such a good pairing.

But what irks me is when people make their personalities completely revolve around the other. Hiroaki this, Ojima that, Hiroaki this, Ojima that. No mention of their interesting dynamics with other students, like how Ojima and Wada bonded over their respective histories with trauma, nor how Hiroaki and Tsuno confide their problems in each other so as to not burden anybody else with them (I'll take any opportunity to bring up Tsuno lmao).

And this is never more prevalent with Hiroaki's coming out scene.

It doesn't take a genius to know that being closeted is a very stressful time in a queer person's life. It's hiding a huge aspect of your life for fear of being judged by outsiders, or from being judged by yourself. That's why some people never come out of their closet, and are unable to accept and be their true selves. Which happens all too often.

Hiroaki's internalized homophobia kept him closeted for years of his life, which definitely wouldn't have helped his self-image issues. Being thrust into the public eye as the Ultimate Fashion Designer definitely wouldn't have helped, either, as now he had thousands of eyes on him. Due to this pressure, he played up his bad boy image by dating and sleeping with girls he had no attachment to, just to cover up for his own crippling insecurities and inability to accept himself.

When Hiroaki does come out of the closet for the very first time, when he finally accepts an aspect of his life he'd been repressing for years, he says it to Yanagi. Not Ojima. Yanagi. Yanagi, the guy who almost sold them all down the river during the first trial when he covered up for Sasaki (who they also both had very differing views on). Yanagi, the guy who beat the shit out of him and broke his nose, dislodged his tooth, and bruised up the face that he'd kept in immaculate condition for the public constantly watching his every move.

Out of all the people in the killing game, Hiroaki told Yanagi, and it was excellent writing for that to be the case. There was no judgement, no criticism, just acceptance, which is what Hiroaki has been seeking his entire life. But was forced to wear a costume that wasn't really him, just to avoid the pain of rejection or judgement.

And for some people to take this monumental step in Hiroaki's journey of self-acceptance and make it all about Ojima is INSANELY insulting. It's obvious that Hiroaki has feelings for Ojima, which definitely added to the mounting pressure of him being closeted, but in that moment, it was about Hiroaki and loving himself.

Now, in summary, I'm not saying shippers can't ship Hasemura or Hirojima. Quite the opposite. Be unapologetically gay!! But also keep in mind the harm they're doing when they reduce the participants down to their attraction to the other, as it is a disservice to Tetro's excellent character writing, and also perpetuates the issue that has been prevalent in fandom spaces for way too long now.

This was a very long post and I didn't realize just how much I had to say about this subject, but here we are!! Tetro has definitely wormed its way into my heart, and its characters are constantly rotating in my brain like a microwave lmaooo

[cantareincminor]

Day 7: Best Moment

Hands down, Chapter 86 of the manga. I know it's not a single moment but I can't really boil it down to just one.

The entire mole hunt arc was top notch. The ending made it even better. And not just because of the infamous Twilight Shower Scene.

It starts in the sewer, when Twilight tells a half-truth to Nightfall about why he spared Yuri:

I'm a sucker for whenever Twilight has these moments (of which there are several in this arc). That exact expression. His eyes say it all. He's defeated, shaken, not "himself." He can barely admit the truth to himself, but he has to come up with some kind of explanation to satisfy his colleague and the rest of WISE when he writes the mission report.

That "for the mission" defense isn't holding up so well anymore, is it, Twilight?

His solemn, defeated mood continues as he heads home as an ordinary civilian:

Again, the eyes say it all. He looks up at his apartment with something like dread. It takes effort to raise his head. He looks to be walking slowly. Like he doesn't want to be there. He knows he's heading into a difficult conversation after an already difficult day where he made a nearly fatal "mistake" and almost lost his life.

Then, against all expectations, Yor welcomes him with the sweetest smile, to the point where she has a halo around her head in his eyes. Once again, Yor defies all that he thinks he knows about human nature and women!

Look at him. That tiny dot of a mouth looks so cute. He's stunned, unable to process. I won't copy paste all the fainting he does since I don't want to copy paste the whole chapter!

So many miniature golden Twiyor moments and shoujo filter close-ups of Yor here. I love how soft her expression is, the contemplative look in her eyes and the shape of her smile. Yor isn't the best at expressing herself in words, especially when it comes to her own wants and desires, but when she tells the truth, it hits hard. She feels comfortable enough with Loid to tell him what's really on her mind, what she wants! What a major milestone for her.

Twilight looks so adorable up there! He's listening and absorbing her words. His mind is not on overdrive. It's just focused solely on Yor. What a sweet, slow moment.

Then, there's this beautiful panel of them in the midst of all this white space. Completely focused on each other, at face level, sitting on the ground. Not putting on a front, just talking as husband and wife. Other fans have analyzed this a lot so I won't say much more.

Side note, it's kind of funny that right after this Yuri bursts in, and while Loid springs to his feet immediately, Yor is still sitting on the ground. I wonder if Yuri noticed his sister was randomly sitting on the ground? What could that have implied? Allow me to have a bit of a dirty mind here, lol, it reminds me of this iconic sentence in @miss---nothing's amazing fic Little Deaths, "What makes you think we haven't sullied the floor?"

Ahem. Finally, there's Twilight's reflection on all of this:

Finally admitting that Yor is a weakness. That she is the reason he "slipped up" so horrendously and left himself extremely vulnerable, not only with debilitating injuries he could have avoided (which then cost him the fight with Wheeler), but by leaving an SSS agent alive and wondering why the hell the most notorious spy of the West would spare his life! That is a HUGE risk to take!

I just love the character development, the epiphanies, that shine through in this chapter. Twilight's still taking baby steps emotionally, but when we really think about it, he legitimately fulfilled his vow he made all the way back in Chapter 14:

He took a bullet for Yor!! Literally!! Actions speak louder than words.

He won't admit he loves her (probably will take 100 more chapters for that LOL), but he sees her as a "weakness." Which places him on the path toward that elusive point in the distance.

All in all, this is the chapter I have reread the most. It'll take a lot to top it in my mind!

[vifilms]

i’m sick as fuck. ennalove, you’ve really outdone yourself with this one. the master of imagery, this solidified it. mel may have been the painter but you have illustrated this story so vividly with your strong affirmations of grace and love. the tone for this story beat the same with each word. all of it cohesive, every sentence tied to the next. truly, there’s never a time where i don’t enjoy your work.

seeing sevika painted in such a wonderful light, a soft light with comforting hues but you can still feel the rawness of everything and everyone she’s most. even if it is for the greater good and for the people of zaun, her home has changed — her life has changed. to show that struggle in the beginning, the push and pull of the tide, there’s the intertwine of canon into something even deeper. from an emotional standpoint, you seriously always knock sevika out of the park. i can hear her thoughts, i feel what she feels, her pain is as close to my heart as it is to hers. it’s intimate. i don’t think people understand how hard it is to execute that in writing. a numbing emotion can often feel thoughtless but there’s full intentionality in this and it’s felt in every word. the entire time i was reading this i just craved for more. the worlds you create in your work are stellar, sevika’s feelings don’t get lost in the shuffle and you can quite literally feel everything about them.

she’s wounded, hard but soft around the edges, she’s lost so much, and she’s ridiculed for things out of her control. the way your write sevika feels real and tangible. a woman who no longer has a home but has her heart beat for zaun and the cause she believes in even if she’s surrounded by people who don’t understand it. and they might never, and there’s heartbreaking tangibility in that feeling. it’s something all of us feel consistently. in some aspect, we can’t control circumstances out of our grip, all we can do is take our best foot forward.

…..but melvika.

the imagery and analogies between the stars and what they mean to each other? fucking amazing. how sevika says the stars is the only think she likes but then saying mel is the first person who is kind to her, the first person who appreciates her and the knowledge she has to offer. mel is sevika’s star and vice versa. maybe it’s just me but i’m just a sucker for people from completely different lives and coming together and all of it just works. it shouldn’t, it couldn’t, but somehow it does.

“yeah and there are so many of them, and it’s like every time you see them you’re seeing a completely different sky. and they’re cool because they only come out at night when they think nobody can see them, it’s like they’re shy. but i always see them because i’m always awake with them.” she rambles.

oh yes. this shit is so fucking good. the foreshadowing. always being present with one you love, and also — i always see them because i’m always with them — there’s so much weight in this line. there’s a thousand different ways it can be interpreted. personally it’s someone like sevika, being reserved, shy, or even cautious, not wanting to be seen or perceived because it’s never ended out well for yourself but when someone does for the first time, it’s the most beautiful thing to experience. what’s that saying? to be seen is to be loved. that’s what this little section screams to me. when someone loves you for the first time, not for a version of yourself you think you are or someone wants you to be, but they love you for you. it’s humbling, it aches, it’s more than overwhelming, but there’s nothing else like it in the world.

there’s true submission in love, and that’s where trust and partnership can blossom and grow, and that’s exactly how this fic made me feel. like there’s a blossom of hope on the other side of the tunnel. the people we love waiting on the other side for us. ready to restore a faith in humanity that we’ve lost.

always exquisite, enna. thank you for always challenging the way i write, making me see the craft in a different lense. it’s so hauntingly beautiful. as if a surgeon can suture a cracked heart back together just because they will it so. ennabear, your talent is always a pleasure to witness. i love your work so much. never stop, ever.

♡

✴︎ —PAINT THE AGES A HUNDRED SHADES OF GOLD ⊹₊⟡⋆

I DON’T WANNA TALK ABOUT LOVE ANYMORE ‘CAUSE IT’S GETTING TOO MUCH FOR ME …

cw: councilor!sevika x painter!mel, sevika is a lil sad and mean but she gets over it, sevika is also kind of a loser who can’t stop talking when she gets drunk, jinx and isha mentions because i’m evil and we know this, mel paints sevika nude, body worship, lots of comfort, oral sex, 18+

word count: 7.3k

it’s been months since sevika’s big move, and she fucking hates it to say the least.

all of these pilties are stuck up, even more than she remembers. which is a lot. she’s exhausted, she questions why she’s even a part of the council if all they do is ignore her. showing up every day and listening to them talk about her home and her people the way they do makes her sick.

they draft plans to raid the markets, shutting down anyone who isn’t licensed to be selling meat or rice or bread, but they refuse to let anyone get a license to sell those things. of course, she’s glad that she gets to eat three meals a day now, but with every bite she takes, she’s reminded of her home, and how starving they must be over there.

no matter how much she fights back, offers up a real plan that could make peace between the rivaling nations, they all just snicker and point fingers at her like she’s some sort of circus act.

and don’t ask her about how much she likes being called councilor sevika, because she doesn’t like it at all. she’s not a councilor, and maybe that’s a good thing, because it’s the last thing she’d ever wanna be.

still, she keeps her emotions under control. this is a huge opportunity to help get zaun on it’s feet and cut ties with piltover officially, she won’t spoil it by making a scene and giving up. no matter what, she’s gonna make an effort, even if it means being locked in a room with a group of rich pigs who’ve never felt that growing pit of hunger in their stomachs that make them so dizzy that they keel over on the streets.

that they die on the streets.

so yeah, it’s not easy, not even a little bit.

most of her nights are spent alone in her room. it’s nice, “small” compared to the rooms everyone else occupies, but still bigger than any house she’s ever seen in the undercity. it has large windows that let every bit of light in, but it’s still eerily dark at night compared to zaun.

in zaun, there are neon lights and buzzing street lamps that glow and flicker at every hour, so when it gets dark, the colorful lights bounce off of every inch of the city. you can see them in the reflections of the puddles, bright streaks of light flying up into the night from behind buildings and stretching until they’re out of sight.

here, in piltover, they have different kinds of lights. tiny, white holes in the sky called stars that shine when it gets dark. they have spotlights and statues and lanterns, but it gets lonely at night. everyone is at home, distancing from their friends and their jobs, getting sleep and resting up for whatever the next day will bring.

there isn’t really any rest in zaun, just a small wink of sleep whenever you catch it, and you’re up again. everyone’s grouchy and hungry and cold, but it makes for good shimmer sales, and the bar is a great place to find refuge when you need a break from it all.

so sevika sleeps with all of her lights on. an attempt to remind her of home— although her home doesn’t have a queen sized bed, fluffy pillows and soft blankets, lamps, alarm clocks, fireplaces, clean water on their nightstands, and stars that shine through their windows.

the stars might be her favorite part about piltover. probably the only good thing about piltover. she doesn’t really know what they are or what they do, but they’re nice to look at late at night when she can’t manage to sleep.

every time she finds herself staring up at them, she sends a prayer or two up to janna. always one for the people, a prayer that even though they pretend to hate each other, and there sure are a few goons who are ready to slit her throat for never paying them back, she hopes they’re okay.

she hopes that ran and theiram have got the bar under control, that vi and ekko manage to keep the chaos limited, and most of all, that jinx and isha are doing alright.

ever since silco died, her whole world was flipped upside down and shaken vigorously. who knew that someday she’d be missing jinx? but she does. she cries at night for the blue haired girl, praying for her safety and her happiness, hoping that she’s managed to keep some of her creativity after everything that went down.

and of course for the more tolerable blue haired kid, isha.

she prays that isha is still attached at the hip to jinx, that her fluffy hair gets dyed that awful bright blue color as often as she wants it to, that she’s found some way to communicate with the world while her voice is at rest.

she’s got no clue as to where they could be. one second, she’s wishing jinx would leave her alone. that she’d pack up her inventions and make a home for them far away from sevika’s life. the next second, they’re gone. no warning, no heads up whatsoever, just completely taken from her life.

but if she wishes to find any wisp of happiness, she’s gonna have to push these thoughts to the back of her mind, only letting them front when she’s alone and awake and accompanied by the stars. they’re the only things who understand her.

——

if you listen closely, you might be able to hear the sound of mel’s thoughts buzzing around in her mind.

the past few months have given her some intense whiplash, but things are finally starting to straighten out. her life isn’t exactly normal, but she’s growing used to her… new self.

she spends most of her time perched at her easel, painting the canvas in beautiful colors that fall over various people or places. it’s therapeutic for her, whatever image or question or anger she has lingering in her head, she can work it out with the paints. when she’s done, she lines them up in front of her.

it helps her see things more clearly, like a thought that can’t float away, frozen in time for her to analyze further. some of them are just plain colors. gold, with white, yellow, and bronze streaks, an attempt to recreate the swirls that are painted on her own body.

sometimes she paints her mother, her eyebrows lowered in a scowl and her silvery gray hair crowning her head. jayce and viktor occasionally make an appearance, both of their faces lost in thought as they stare at various equations and formulas that she can’t quite make out.

sometimes she just sees miscellaneous things, quick visions that she needs to bring to life. countless canvases are covered in black, with that dark red fog reaching into it like vines. there’s also the hextech that makes the occasional appearance, but she can’t quite get that bright, rich blue color right.

a few times before, she’s attempted portraits, but she doesn’t prefer them. lest has been one of her closest friends during all of this, she can sit and pose for hours while mel works away at her figure on the canvas. they’ve also tried painting together, but mel prefers her alone time.

she’s tried recreating the pictures from her memory, but it never comes out as well. she covers the canvas in thick paint, a bronze, brown, and white, making up jayce’s features. but she always clouds his face with shiny white webs, and those glistening, rainbow stars. the ones that stole him away.

while she sits, her body stays stagnant, eyes racing around the blank canvas. she mixes the colors in her head before she even opens the tubes, her eyes proportion it all for her, so she rarely makes sketches anymore.

recently, she’s been more interested in staying in and shutting out the world. the occasional knock rings out against her door, but she can’t be bothered to investigate. she doesn’t wanna give her opinions anymore, doesn’t wanna lead all of topside to peace and gas the streets of the undercity. really, she never signed up for that. sure, she’s ambessa’s daughter, but she doesn’t care to be a leader anymore. not when all it does is get people hurt and killed.

but apparently it’s urgent this time, because the knocking persists.

“um, mel?” a timid voice asks. “i hate to bother you, but the council requires yo—”

she flings the door open, clad in her white robe and slippers. her hood hangs halfway over her head as she glares at the man, but he insists on escorting her to the council meeting. her feet gently pad against the floor as she walks through the long halls, already dreading having to play referee for a group of adults who should know better.

but ambessa is gone now, and these people need someone to give them any sort of direction.

the dome shaped room welcomes her, and although she dreads being there, the sun shining through the stained glass is gorgeous. she spies a few familiar faces sitting in their respective seats, and notices some new ones who were added after the war.

“but they need the money!” one councilor booms, one of the newer ones who mel doesn’t quite recognize yet. “you can’t just cut their funds and raise the tax prices, they—”

“councilor sevika, please.” someone says, talking over her voice. “what possibly could they need more money for? our city needs to be rebuilt, and it’s them who’s caused all of this destruction.”

mel observes quietly, noticing the tears that fill sevika’s eyes. she makes an assumption that they’re either out of sadness, anger, or exhaustion, but she can’t quite tell. one thing she does know, though, is that it isn’t fair.

it’s not fair to just drag a zaunite up to topside and force her to be the only one representing her nation. especially when she has to be locked in a room full of people who hate her, who think she’s nothing more than just undercity trash to mock and make fun of.

mel’s surprised that sevika has held her ground for this long. if that were her, she’d want to pack up and leave within a day, especially when she notices the snorts and sideways glances that she gets every time she opens her mouth.

“have you even been down there?” sevika asks. “have you seen the bodies lying on the streets? have you heard the sobs of the starving children?”

they all look at her, unable to imagine what hunger even is, much less an entire nation overcome by it. shoola offers a sympathetic frown, but it’s not enough for sevika. she’s exhausted, and the thought of seeing her home even more impoverished is killing her. worst of all, word on the street is that zaunites are beginning to call her a traitor.

she wishes that they could see how hard she’s working, how much she’s fighting for them behind the scenes. but she can’t exactly blame them, it must be hard to watch every leader they’ve ever had either fail at leading them to sovereignty or turn their backs on the people. must be worse to watch someone who they thought was on their side disappear into the council and watch as things just keep getting worse and worse down there.

and this makes sevika feel horrible.

it’s hard for her not to blame herself for this, especially because that’s what she’s used to. her job for years was to be silco’s right hand, so it was constantly her fault if something went wrong. that’s just how things are. if things don’t go her way, it must be her fault for not working harder to overcome it.

“i agree.” mel says plainly. “councilor sevika has firsthand knowledge of what it’s like for them, why shouldn’t we trust her?”

sevika is taken aback at this. she’s never seen someone so… rich looking… be this understanding toward her. but although it’s the bare minimum, she appreciates it. she’ll take whatever form of kindness she can get right now.

the other councilors stare at mel like she’s just grown three heads. obviously, they’ve never been told no a day in their life. sevika is glad that she gets to be present for the first time. some of them sputter and growl, some of them roll their eyes, but sevika just sinks back into her chair and decides to let them argue it out.

“i agree too.” councilor shoola says. “it’s only fair… unless, any of you would like to go down there and experience it for yourselves? then you could tell us all about their excess of funds.”

sevika sighs in relief, thanking janna or the universe or whatever god decided to help her out. she can’t exactly smile, at least not yet, but she manages a tiny grin, and decides that maybe she shouldn’t feel too bad about herself just yet.

mel is glad that sevika and shoola have at least a little bit of brains, but she’s starting to rethink having all of the others on the council. maybe they need to fire some, or at least add some more zaunites to level the playing field. although, she now knows that sevika can put up one hell of a fight, so maybe she doesn’t need it.

but the clock strikes two in the afternoon, and the councilors file out to get on with their day until they meet again tomorrow. sevika hangs back, waiting for everyone to leave before she returns to her office. but mel hangs back too, determined to talk to sevika more, to get to know her.

sevika pulls her cape over her shoulders, completely covering her figure before she exits the room. mel perks up and shoots her a questioning look.

“yes?” sevika asks.

“you’re brave.” mel says.

“no i’m not. d’you think it’s brave of me to leave my people starving and helpless down there while i have a real home and three meals a day?”

mel just stares blankly at her. that isn’t what she meant at all, but at the same time, she’s completely right. as much as she still believes that sevika is brave for putting up with the councilors, she should be calling everyone else brave, everyone in zaun who goes days without food. sevika is the luckiest of them all.

“that’s not what i meant.” mel explains. “i meant that you’re better than them because you stand your ground instead of just getting everything you want. you work hard for what you earn.”

sevika shrugs. “i guess you could say that.”

“do you miss it down there?”

“what do you think?” sevika grunts.

“i’d bet that you do, you just try not to show it in front of anyone.”

“yes, because showing weakness gets you killed.”

“not up here, it doesn’t. you should open up a little, it might be good for you.” mel suggests.

“i’ll pass.”

“i could help you.”

“i don’t need—”

“let me help you.” mel says, reaching out to grab sevika’s hand.

“help me how?” sevika asks.

“open up to me. tell me about your life. friends, family, past, anything.”

“okay… maybe.”

“okay, good.”

——

sevika has never been great at opening up to anyone, but mel is… understanding. as much as she hates to talk about her struggles to other people, mel is probably the best possible person to talk to. mel marched herself down sevika’s hall to her door, banging on it until sevika sleepily presented herself. she marched sevika down the hall and through the building until they reached her own suite, and she fed sevika more and more wine until she started to talk to her.

it started with just a confession. sevika was wine drunk and admitted that yes, she did miss her home, and that she hated topside. and then mel pressed for more, made her tell her specifically who she missed and what she missed about them.

the list of people who she missed was never ending. at the top— jinx and isha. in all honesty, mel is shocked to learn that sevika had anyone that she really considered family, much less a daughter or a niece. but sevika tells her all about them, how isha would beg to paint her nails or dye her hair, and how jinx finally had a sister who she could play with, instead of just being too young to do anything.

but when mel asks where they’ve gone, sevika freezes. she doesn’t know, and it’s not something she prefers to think about. dead is something she’d heavily considered, but that ending makes her too sad. as long as she doesn’t know that they’re dead, they’re not. at least not in her world.

she tells mel that she hopes they’re somewhere safe, somewhere that they can have fun together. like floating on a cloud, or living in outer space with the stars. maybe they are with the stars, and that’s why she loves them so much.

“you like the stars?” mel asks.

“that’s the only thing actually worth liking about this place, i think…” sevika slurs drunkenly.

“hmm, i guess they are pretty, aren’t they.” mel ponders.

“yeah and there are so many of them, and it’s like every time you see them you’re seeing a completely different sky. and they’re cool because they only come out at night when they think nobody can see them, it’s like they’re shy. but i always see them because i’m always awake with them.” she rambles.

mel can’t help but giggle. again, everything she said is exactly right, but she’s never seen it that way. sevika offers her a fresh new perspective, one that makes her ponder how much she knows about the world.

“sorry…” sevika whispers, suddenly aware that she’s drunkenly blabbering and probably making a fool of herself. she tries to blink herself sober but it doesn’t work.

“no worries. i like them too.” mel soothes.

“i think i should go.”

“already?” mel asks.

“it’s gett’n late. i have places to be tomorrow…” sevika sighs. mel stands and walks her to the door, grabbing on gently to her human arm in an attempt to stabilize the woman. she offers a sweet smile to sevika as she leaves, even takes her hand in her own for a second and squeezes it tightly, but sevika just stares at the floor.

“mel?” she asks finally, although in a timid voice.

“yes?”

“thanks for sticking up for me. i don’t know what those pigs would get up to without people like me and you.”

mel’s heart warms at this. sevika is so drunk that she’s starting to get sappy and sweet, and while it’s adorable, it’s clear that she needs to get home. but she’s glad that her effort isn’t going unnoticed, and she’s starting to really like sevika.

“of course.” she smiles again. “get some sleep for me, okay? don’t spend too much time with the stars.”

sevika curses herself for the warm feeling that wraps herself all around her, she hates that she’s being vulnerable and making friends. she just blames the feeling on the alcohol, but she knows that it’s not. because that light, warm feeling clings itself to her every time she sees mel.

it happens again when they coincidentally cross paths, mel on her way outside for some fresh air and sevika on her way to her room to sign papers until her fingers bleed. but she realizes for the first time that mel is so beautiful. she hasn’t spotted sevika yet, but the sunlight glowing in from the windows catches her golden streaked skin perfectly, and she’s shining. it’s like she’s a real life star, and sevika can’t peel her eyes away.

“oh, hi sevika.” mel grins.

“um… hi.” she responds, her heart suddenly beating faster than usual. “where are you going?”

“just outside. been cramped up inside all day and the smell of my paints are starting to give me a headache.”

“you paint?” sevika asks, although to anyone else the answer would be obvious.

“yeah, all the time. i’d love to show you someday.” she offers, already knowing that she’s gonna have to drag sevika by the arm and force her to visit.

“okay… yeah, that would be nice.” she says.

“what are you doing right now?” mel asks.

“i just have a lot of paperwork to fill out, letters to write, things to sign, you know how it is.”

“will you stop by later, then?”

“are you gonna make me?”

“probably. if you don’t show up by yourself.”

“alright, see you later then.”

——

sevika is dreading this outing. the more times she thinks about going back over to mel’s, the more anxious she gets. every time she’s been over there the past month, she’s ended up either drunk or blabbering on about stuff that doesn’t matter. or worse— drunk and blabbering. she always finds some way to make a fool of herself, and she doesn’t know how to stop. she just wishes it wasn’t so easy to open up to her, wishes that mel wasn’t so damn likable.

mel already knows she’s gonna have to drag sevika over to come look at her paintings. she always does. no matter how many times she tells the woman to come on her own terms, she finds herself stomping down to sevika’s door and forcing her to hang out. it’s cute, in mel’s mind, it’s like a date. so that’s what she finds herself doing tonight. cleaning up her suite a little, spinning one of her jazz records, and marching down to collect sevika.

she’s arranged her paintings in no particular order, but the array is beautiful. some are framed, some are smaller than others, some of them aren’t even finished. sevika feels so moved by this. she’s never seen anything so beautiful. not anything in real life, not mel herself, not even the stars are as beautiful as her paintings.

mel sits her down on the loveseat, pouring two glasses of wine and sitting down next to sevika, but sevika begs her to talk about her paintings. she’s dying to know how anyone could make anything look more beautiful than the stars. mel blushes at that compliment— it’s a lot coming from sevika for multiple reasons— but she decides that now it’s her turn to open up.

they sit an chat for hours, and before long, sevika feels as if she knows mel like the back of her hand. she now knows about jayce and viktor and what happened to them, about ambessa, her mother, the noxians, and the rest of her family. sevika’s oddly surprised. of course, she’s aware that mel is probably the strongest woman she knows, but she never would’ve guessed that she’s been through that much.

mel cries a bit, and sevika cries too, and they laugh about their emotions like old friends. for once in her life, sevika feels like maybe not everything sucks, and that maybe it’s okay to let herself fall for someone. she just hopes that mel feels the same way.

“sevika?” mel asks, still catching her breath after a fit of giggles.

“yeah?” she smiles.

“will you dance with me?”

“i don’t dance.” sevika says, laughing at the image of her dancing with someone. how silly.

“aww, come on! it’s just us and some jazz! you’ll be fine.” she reasons. “please?”

sevika rolls her eyes at mel’s outstretched hand, but she’s very tipsy and in a good mood, so how could she say no to the beautiful woman standing in front of her?

mel yanks her up by her arm, and sevika wastes no time following after her to the middle of the room where the big sky lights let the stars shine in. sevika scowls and tenses up a bit, but mel wraps her arms around sevika’s waist so gently, guiding sevika’s arm to press against her back. mel sways them back and forth a bit, and sevika soon loosens up and stares down at mel with a smile that puts all of the stars to shame.

“do you ever miss your arm?” mel asks.

“yeah, sometimes. i miss the one jinx made for me, i wish i didn’t take it for granted.” she responds, her mood quickly turning sad against her will.

“i could have one made for you.” mel offers.

sevika shakes her head and flattens her lips into a straight line. “they won’t let me have one on the council.”

it’s mel’s turn to roll her eyes now. “no, i’ll make you one that they’ll accept. they always listen to me, you know.” she grins.

“i guess that would be alright, as long as it’s not much of a hassle.”

“for you? nothing’s a hassle. don’t be silly.”

sevika’s eyebrows pull together in the middle and she pouts, tears quickly filling her eyes. nobody’s ever been this nice to her before. offering her a new limb, protection from the ruthless comments from the council, good wine, and a dance underneath the stars. she can’t help but cry, but she’s not afraid to anymore. with mel, she feels safe enough to be this vulnerable.

mel notices her sad expression, and she silently prays that she didn’t accidentally offend sevika, it’s the last thing she’d ever wanna do. “oh, what’s wrong? did i—”

sevika cuts her off with a kiss. she doesn’t wanna hear any apologies from mel, not after she’s been a literal angel to sevika this past week. mel’s lips are warm and welcoming, they taste sweet, like if gold was a flavor. she reaches her hands up and cradles the back of mel’s head, deepening the kiss.

mel is completely taken aback by this. she didn’t know that sevika had feelings for her. actually, she thought that sevika was sick of her. but she kisses sevika back, her lips are big and pouty and oh so soft. she also gets to feel sevika’s piercing up close, and the cold metal drags against the bottom of her lips ever so slightly. it’s a stark contrast, but a comforting one at that.

one thing leads to another, and they’re quickly back on the loveseat, lapping at each others tongues and giggling like kids and holding hands. sevika’s had tons of sex before, sure, but nothing comes close to this. she feels so special, so cared for, that she notices this strange, giddy feeling bubbling up in her chest.

little does she know, that feeling is called love.

she pins mel down to the seat, both of them breathless and high on this mysterious feeling— although it definitely has something to do with the liquor— and sevika almost cries again when mel spreads her legs beneath her white gown. the warm lamplight mixed with the starlight causes her to glow again, like she’s on fire, so sevika can’t help but kiss all over the gold patterns that paint her skin.

mel erupts into another fit of giggles, holding sevika’s shocked face in her hands. sevika tenses up slightly at her touch, but takes a deep breath and swallows all of her anxiety.

“can i?” sevika asks.

mel smiles and nods. “of course. you can do whatever you want to me.”

sevika shudders and reaches up mel’s dress, caressing her stomach and hips. mel is soft and malleable under her touch, and she’s golden. she reaches forward to tug her dress above her hips. sevika doesn’t think she’s ever seen such a beautiful sight, and mel absolutely adores sevika’s awestruck face.

the same golden markings that paint her face also trail down her abdomen, all the way to her ankles. there are thick streaks of gold that mirror each other on each side of her torso, twisting themselves into swirls and shapes. she also has small golden freckles littering her body, identical to the ones on her face. they look like stars.

best of all, as if sevika wasn’t already turned on enough, she has small, golden hairs that trail down from just beneath her belly button, only stopping when they crown her dripping hole. this woman is made of pure magic, and if sevika doesn’t get her mouth on her within the next millisecond, she thinks she might faint.

mel grabs sevika’s hand when she notices her hesitation, and this makes her snap back into the moment and start eating mel out. she starts slow, just some teasing, soft licks to her clit that make her shiver. mel moans so sweetly and beautifully and sevika feels like she’s floating.

sevika grips mel’s hand harder and harder as she keeps eating her out, and it’s times like these that she wishes she has two hands. one to hold mel’s with, and one to feel inside of her, pumping her full of her thick fingers. mel arches her back and thrusts up into sevika’s face, and they both nearly cum on the spot.

she pulls back for a second, a string of white slick connecting itself to sevika’s lips before dripping down her chin.

“sev, you’re doing so good, baby.” mel praises. “don’t stop, i’m so close.”

sevika speeds up her movements, determined to make mel cum. her big, silver eyes squeeze shut as her mouth works it’s magic, sucking on her clit and running her pointed tongue between mel’s folds to collect her slick.

but she doesn’t cum until sevika wraps her lips around her clit again, her piercing colliding with mel’s throbbing clit as she tips over the edge. a low whine is pulled from her throat, and sevika pulls back to admire the woman above her. mel yanks sevika up by her shirt, thanking her with a deep kiss. some of sevika’s lipstick is smudged, so mel wipes it off with her thumbs, as well as the wet slick that’s smeared all over her face.

sevika is suddenly very aware that she doesn’t need shimmer anymore, because she feels like mel’s sweet nectar is enough to get her high.

“i’m gonna need that new arm as soon as you can get it.” sevika says with her lips smashed against mel’s. “need to show you what else i can do.”

——

it’s been three weeks since then, and sevika’s been coming over every night. she still has lots of work to do, but mel helps her with all of it. they sort through tall stacks of paperwork, taking turns sitting on the others lap and pouring each other more wine. sometimes they get distracted with sex, but they try their hardest to stay focused. occasionally mel will bring out her paints and work on something new, forcing sevika to stay focused while she’s at work.

they also spend their mornings together. if they don’t wake up in the other’s arms, they’ll sleepily march down to their door and bang on it until they reunite and hold each other again.

but this morning, sevika wakes up in mel’s bed alone. she reaches out for the woman with her arm, but that side of the bed is just cold and empty. sitting up, she glances around the room until she spies mel in her silky white cloak painting on the balcony.

“mel?” she asks groggily. “why’re you up so early?”

“just had to finish something, love.” she responds, smiling at her girlfriend’s half awake state. “you can go back to sleep if you’d like.”

“can i at least see what you’re working on?”

“not yet.” she smiles. “it’s a surprise.”

sevika groans and turns around to go back inside, but mel catches her arm and yanks her back for a kiss. sevika kisses over each of mel’s golden freckles, and then her lips, then her nose, her forehead, chin, and then lips again, before returning inside. mel giggles and tries to swat sevika’s back before she gets away, but she’s too slow and the effort is wasted.

back inside, sevika grabs onto mel’s pillow and stuffs her face into it, bringing a familiar comfort that lulls her back to sleep. she’s shaken awake a few hours later, though. it’s mel, very gently rattling sevika’s shoulder while caressing her hair. “sevika, babe, wake up.” she whispers.

“mmmmh?”

“i have a present for you.”

“hmmmm?”

“wake up so you can open it.”

“ughhhhh.”

“oh, please. don’t be so pouty. i want you to see it! quickly, quickly!” she urges, yanking sevika back to the balcony. the sun is slightly higher in the sky now, some of the orange in the sky is still fading away but the sky is painted in a light yellow color, it matches mel a little bit.

she hands her a giant white box with mel’s name on it, a small golden bow sitting directly on the top. “what is this?” sevika asks.

“open it and see!” mel smiles.

so she does. she flips the lock on the box and pulls it open, a smooth, golden arm staring back at her.

“what is this?” sevika asks again, this time in disbelief. she couldn’t tell how serious mel was about acquiring a new arm for her, so she didn’t think she’d be receiving a new one this quickly, or one this pretty.

it’s a lot more modern compared to her other two arms that she’s had in the past. it has a matte gold casing all around it, with shimmery gold patterns that resemble mel’s carved into it. it has all five fingers, but they’re not as pointy, more resembling her human fingers than her past arms. sevika is overcome with emotions, and she turns around to pull mel in for a hug, hiding her tears on her shoulder.

“do you like it?” mel asks.

“i love it.”

“will you teach me how to put it on you?”

“of course.” sevika promises, and with that, mel tugs her inside and makes her sit and show her. it takes a bit of fumbling. sevika isn’t great at explaining things, but she also can’t do much with only one arm, so lots of trial and error occurs during the process. but eventually it’s all screwed in, and the first thing sevika does is pull mel in for a real hug.

mel never really realized how strong sevika is, and how crushing her hugs are. at least, not until now. she knows that sevika can hold her somewhat tightly, but one arm doesn’t do much. now that she as two arms though, mel is struggling to breathe with the way sevika is crushing her. or maybe it’s just because sevika wants to show her girlfriend some love. and she’s definitely not crying.

“i have one more thing.” mel says, although most of it gets muffled by sevika’s chest.

“what is it?” she asks.

“come outside and look.”

sevika follows her outside, grabbing onto mel’s elbow with her new hand.

“close your eyes.” mel says, so sevika squeezes her eyes shut and tries her hardest not to peek. mel dashes over to retrieve the painting on her canvas that’s now fully dry, and then she holds it to face sevika.

“okay, now open them.”

she opens her eyes to see mel holding one of her new paintings— the one she wasn’t allowed to see yet. but now she’s aware of why she wasn’t allowed to see it, because the painting is of her.

it’s sevika. hunched over at mel’s desk with her reading glasses on and a pen in her hand, a glass of wine half empty on the table next to her. the colors in the painting are very warm, likely resembling the warm lamps that decorate mel’s suite. and the most surprising thing— there’s a smile on sevika’s face.

it’s not something she’s ever seen on herself before. for one, she’s never been one to smile in general, it’s just not something she was ever used to doing. photographs are also very rare in zaun, so the only way she could’ve seen it on herself is by smiling in front of a mirror, which is even more rare.

sevika doesn’t even know how to feel. she should cry, because nobody has ever been this kind to her before, and she’s overwhelmed with emotions from the arm, the painting, and just being around mel.

she should also be happy. nobody has ever understood her as much as mel does, and she feels so honored to be seen in her artistic lense. she should be glad that she gets to live up here, where everything is safe and pretty and valuable. she’s also still half asleep, and can’t exactly tell if she’s dreaming or not.

“what do you think?” mel asks after a while.

“i don’t know what i did to deserve this.” sevika says honestly. “is there some kind of special occasion that i don’t know about? or are you just spoiling me.”

“well, mostly the latter,” mel laughs. “but it is our one month anniversary, if that counts for anything.”

“i didn’t get you anything.” sevika frowns, suddenly feeling way out of mel’s league, almost insecure.

“that’s alright.” mel smiles. “your presence is enough.”

sevika rolls her eyes and manages a smile too, yanking mel forward and giving her a sweet kiss. one month isn’t much, but it’s been the happiest month of sevika’s life, and things are starting to look up for her. for zaun, too.

“well,” mel starts, pulling away from sevika’s lips. “there is one small thing you could do for me.”

“and that is…?”

“model for me so i can paint you?” she asks with a happy shrug of her shoulders.

“now? but you just painted me.”

“yes, i’m aware.” she laughs. “but i haven’t painted your new arm yet, and that was from a few days ago but you just look so adorable today. please?”

sevika smiles too. how could she say no to mel when she asks so nicely? “alright, fine.” she agrees.

“good, and take all of your clothes off, too.”

sevika freezes. although mel has seen her naked hundreds of times, she suddenly feels shy.

“don’t worry, it’s just for us.” mel soothes. “lay on the bed and i’ll position you.”

so sevika is left no choice but to follow the orders she was given. she strips herself of her clothes— which is much easier now that she has two arms— and lays down on the bed, looking up at mel with her big, watery eyes. mel walks over and pushes her backward until she’s propped up with just one elbow.

“is this comfortable?” mel asks.

“uh… y-yeah.” sevika responds.

mel pries sevika’s legs open, positioning them apart so that she has a full view of sevika’s dripping cunt from her easel. sevika whimpers, her eyes widening and sparkling as she looks up at mel.

“don’t be shy.” mel teases. “it’s just me.”

“i know, sorry…” sevika says with a sigh, making a mental note to loosen up.

“are you ready for me to start? we’re probably gonna be here all day.”

“yeah. ready.” sevika responds.

“okay, let me know if you need a break.”

mel isn’t too fond of painting from models, but she can feel her opinion changing as she sculpts sevika with the paint. her legs are easy. long and thick, and she gets to mimic the way they’re pressed open.

her torso is next, which is one of her favorite things about sevika. her abs are hard and sturdy, but they get slightly softened out by the rolls of her stomach. then mel moves up to her tits, painting two perfectly pointed brown circles accented with thick, dark nipples.

her neck comes after, and then her arms, and finally her face. mel has memorized every little expression sevika has, so she has a lot to choose from, but she chooses the one that sevika is wearing right now. a goofy, lovestruck smile, adorned with a slight blush sparkling on her cheeks.

her eyes are also fun, they’re so big and sparkly and metallic, mel can’t help but paint stars in them. and of course, her nose, her tooth gap, her piercing, and her hair. they all come together to make up the most perfect face that mel has ever seen.

she moves on to the arms next, painting one with her thick muscles and her warm brown skin, and the other with a shiny gold. her shoulders are slightly slanted, and they have bite marks and hickeys carved into them, which makes mel immensely proud of herself.

and finally, sevika’s glistening cunt. she paints each fold tenderly, a small circle at the top covered slightly by a thin, fleshy hood. she paints the slick in between her thighs that just keeps collecting with her finest white and silver paints.

and of course, her bush, because she wouldn’t dare to forget it. she curls each stroke of her brush until it perfectly mirrors sevika’s thick, dark curls, and then she trails them all the way up her lower stomach.

she finishes the background next, but it’s not much. she doesn’t want anything to take away from sevika’s beauty. but she makes sure to add a few stars surrounding her of various sizes and shades of gold.

sevika has been surprisingly patient throughout the whole thing, mel predicted that she’d be begging for snacks only ten minutes in. but mel finishes quickly and she’s beaming with excitement as soon as she’s done.

“do you wanna see it?” she asks.

“you’re done already?” sevika replies.

“yeah. you’re an easy model.”

“okay, yeah, let me see.” sevika smiles.

mel lifts up the canvas and presents it to sevika, and it’s somehow even more beautiful than the other painting. mel captures her so beautifully, sevika is so honored to be viewed that way. for the first time in her life, she truly feels beautiful. and mel can tell that she feels that way too, through the tears that threaten to spill in her eyes.

and just as sevika is about to tackle mel to the bed too, she notices something in the bottom corner. in a shimmery gold writing, the words “my star. -mel m.” are painted. sevika looks up at mel with a questioning glance and asks, “what’s that?”

“it’s my signature. the title of the painting and my name.”

“‘my star’?” sevika reads off.

“yeah, because that’s what you are. you’re my star, sevika. you’re so beautiful and bright.”

and those words echo in sevika’s mind for the rest of time, especially when sevika pins mel down and rides her face into the pillow a few seconds later. she’s right. she is mel’s star, isn’t she.