#I do deserve a break but I also REALLY want to finish this draft

[onmywaytobe]

Starting to get to the point where not breaking my NaNo streak is stressing me out instead of being fun…

Don’t want to break my streak or give up, especially this close to the end. I’m almost at 45k and I haven’t written yet today. I’m going to write something so I don’t break the streak but I’ve hit the boring middle of the story and I’m not having fun with the writing. I’ve lost my motivation and inspiration but I do want to win really badly….

I have a lot going on man!! I am tired and I want to give up but I’m going to push myself :(

[nereidprinc3ss]

you know the killer doesn't understand

in which spencer is so terrified he's going to hurt you after he gets out of prison that he can barely touch you. an argument ensues.

angst (+ comfort) warnings/tags: established relationship, fem!reader, mentions of violent intrusive thoughts (non-specific), arguing, yelling, use of the word rape, nightmares, happyish ending, mention of showering together, it's a bad time but it's also a good time for us woo i love angsty angst a/n: i miss posting for real so bad i dug up this draft which was mostly finished and polished it up. i think i really like this one and it was based on a request but i lost it:( i hope u guys enjoy this, pls lmk<3

Spencer is by no means happy with his sudden fear of touching you—it makes everything in his life significantly harder and less convenient and he hates that he’s constantly afraid he’s going to break you. He hates watching you hold back from attacking him with a hug when he enters a room like you used to, and he feels terrible every time you ball up on the opposite side of the couch as he reads, waiting for an invitation into his lap but too scared to ask for one (he’ll always hold out his arm for you, though—he’s not cruel.)

You’re adorable in the way you stand at the foot of the bed in your pajamas, arms behind your back like it’s not your bed too, but it makes him feel terrible. This isn’t at all what he wanted for you, and in all honestly he’s thought about ending the relationship because he knows he’s being an absolutely awful partner—but he just can’t bring himself to. Instead, he gestures for you to get into bed, and you curl up under the covers close to him but not against him, and he’ll play with your hair and read for a while because he can’t sleep very well. Eventually he’ll assume the position of sleep, but some sick part of him doesn’t know what to do with the sounds of the city and the fan instead of the sounds of a hundred men rolling and sniffing and shuffling around their echoey cells. He doesn’t understand warmth anymore, or softness, or nice pajamas or fluffy pillows. He’s starting to think he doesn’t understand you. And that’s the worst thought of all. 

So he essentially dozes for the first week, on and off, always exhausted in the mornings but what’s new. When he can’t sleep, he turns his head to watch you breathe—some beautiful, sweet creature dreaming in his bed, unwaveringly loyal to him even though he can hardly stand to touch you for fuck’s sake. You’re beautiful, and it makes him feel better to watch you, even if he can’t touch you. Not now that he knows what he is capable of doing to another person. What if he has some sort of PTSD—PTSS, thank you, Luke Alvez—induced dream and does something terrible to you in his sleep? It’s not like you’re tiny, but he’s stronger, he knows he is, and lately every time you get too close he remembers exactly what it feels like to exert the full force of that strength, and what it feels like when someone else unleashes their own onto him. 

They’re just intrusive thoughts, and in them he doesn’t hurt you intentionally, but he always feels a little bit sick now. He is so, so sick. A bull in a China shop. Spencer knows exactly how breakable humans are—it’s his job to know. If he left so much as one red mark on you by accident, he’s quite sure he’d drill down to a previously unknown rock bottom. And if he reaches that point, he doesn’t know if he’d ever deserve to come back. 

Every day it seems to become clearer that the only humane thing to do is break up with you. But for now he’ll watch you sleep—the delicate rising and falling of your chest, the way you curl in on yourself because you can’t curl into him. In sleep you look so peaceful and content. You never look that way awake, anymore. Not when he’s around, which is pretty much always. At least he can’t disappoint you while you’re asleep. 

Or so he’d like to think. 

Until one night, about a week and a half after he gets home; you whimper in your sleep. It’s so quiet he could’ve missed it, but he doesn’t, and then he watches your smooth brow furrow with worry and he knows you’re having a nightmare immediately. 

Spencer panics—before, he would have woken you up and held you and comforted you until you fell back asleep and it would have been so simple. Now he’s frozen, afraid to touch you but not sure if he can just lie there watching you so afraid and not do a thing about it. 

In the end, you choose for him—and it only takes a few moments. You’re close enough to him that it’s easy for you to close the few inches even in sleep, and maybe you’re slightly conscious but not enough to remember you’re not supposed to touch him. 

He stops breathing as you fold yourself against him, muttering worried nonsense—he catches his name, once—nestling against his chest, one searching arm gently draping over his waist. Every muscle in his body is rigid, and his thoughts—his mind goes… completely fucking blank. 

Suddenly, all he’s known, all he’s ever known, is the smell of your hair, the warmth of you seeping through layers of clothing, and the weight of your arm over him. Everything he ever was ceases to exist, and he’s just this, right now. The person you’d turned to unconsciously for comfort, so sure, so trusting that he would keep you safe. He can feel your breath for the first time in months. Slowly every tense muscle unspools. For the first time in a long time he doesn’t feel dangerous. He doesn’t feel like his entire body is spring loaded and ready to attack at the slightest provocation. Spencer allows himself to hold you, and part of it feels like betrayal because he knows how badly you need this from him while you’re awake but mostly he feels like he could cry. His thumb rubs circles into the middle of your back and your head tucks so perfectly under his chin while he studies the rumpled sheets where you’d been lying a moment ago. He almost feels like sticking his tongue out to gloat at your half of the mattress—haha, look who gets to hold her now—but instead he sighs, shakily, and squeezes his eyes shut. 

You don’t make another sound for hours. 

He’s reluctant to let you go when you begin to stir around six AM, but forcibly holding onto you is so far from what he wants to do that he manages. You roll back over to your own side of the bed, and he continues admiring you from afar until he falls asleep. It’s the best three hours of sleep he’s had in a very long time. 

Of course, you don’t remember it. When you wake up your sadness resumes, and so does the pretending like you’re not sad, but you’re a very good sport—and it helps that he’s feeling much better this morning than he has since he got back. 

“Good morning,” you whisper faintly, still blinking as you watch him longingly from your spot. 

Spencer pushes himself up onto an elbow, and you watch with big eyes as he leans over you, stroking your cheek with his free hand. 

“Good morning. You sleep okay?”

Your brow flickers, and he realizes it’s not a question he asks every morning, and you’re probably distracted by this overt display of affection, but you answer it obediently anyway. 

“I think so. I had weird dreams.”

He hums. 

“About what?”

It’s quiet for a moment as he takes in the exact spattering of microscopically fractured pigment over your irises. Your voice is small when you finally speak. 

“Do I have to tell you?”

That hurts. 

“No. But it might help.”

Coming from him? Ironic doesn’t even begin to cover it. 

You acknowledge him with a small hum of your own, studying him with soft, mistrustful eyes. 

He can’t help it anymore—Spencer leans down and gently kisses you, so tenderly, so chastely, it makes his own head spin. He hasn’t kissed you like that since you picked him up from Milburn. It’s long overdue. 

Which is why he’s not expecting you to start crying. He pulls back immediately, not far, just enough to assess your expression. 

“What’s this? What’s wrong, angel?” He frowns. Your lip quivers in a way that feels like a blow to the chest. 

“That’s not… you’re…”

“What? What is it?”

A fat tear finally traces a path down your cheek and when you speak your voice breaks in the most fragile, devastating way. 

“You’re not being fair.”

He has no neat question to summarize all the bafflement your accusation inspires in his lately cloudy head, but the wildly confused look on his face must be prompt enough.

“I’m trying really hard to respect your space and boundaries and not upset you but my feelings are hurt, Spencer, I don’t know how they couldn’t be. I feel like you don’t even like me anymore. I’m embarrassed around you because I feel like I care about you so much more than you care about me. And then you—and then you wake up one morning and you think it’s okay to act like you love me again but I can’t—I c—” you stop, obviously frustrated—now crying in earnest and lacking the words. “You can’t be mean to me. I know you’ve been through a lot and I’m sorry but you can’t treat me like that. I’m a person, too.”

His chest aches and he swallows down barbed wire.

“I’m not acting like I love you. I do love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in my life. That’s not an act.”

It’s not an adequate response, but your words are still spinning in his head until he can’t keep up with them. He’s not used to this, anymore. The language you two had developed is so foreign now. 

Maybe he just doesn’t know how to talk to you. 

Resignation—a too-calm recognition softens the stormy look that has brewed on your face. As soon as it’s gone, and you’re looking at him placidly, he realizes he’s afraid. 

“Well, that’s not enough,” you whisper. 

Spencer feels like he’s been shot as you push the covers aside and slip out of bed. And he knows what that feels like. 

“Where are you going?” And then louder, when you don’t hear him because you’ve already left the room, “Where are you going?”

He follows you through the apartment as you march purposefully for the door, slipping shoes on and grabbing your keys and coat. 

You barely look over your shoulder as you leave, slamming the front door behind you. Things shake from the impact. A mini earthquake. 

Spencer is too stunned to follow you. 

It’s not until a few minutes later when he goes to call you that he realizes your phone is still sitting on your bedside table. He stares at it, tasting metal, because he has absolutely no way to reach you or guarantee your safety. There’s no way for you to call him, or anyone, if you get in trouble—and he fears that you’ll retaliate against him by doing something stupid and dangerous. 

He only just manages to stop himself from calling the police and asking them to start looking for you. Only just recognizes it to be an overreaction. 

Besides, he’s not feeling particularly fond of the criminal justice institution these days. If it came down to it, he’d trust himself and his team over the cops any day.

The team. They’re always a resource. If worst comes to worst, he thinks, robotically making coffee as he tries to talk himself down, and she doesn’t come home before dark, I’ll call all of her closest friends. If she doesn’t come home before the morning—the thought makes him feel sick—I’ll deploy every fucking resource at my disposal. 

Maybe that’s an overreaction, too, but he has to find a way to self-soothe somehow. Planning makes him feel better. Being prepared for the things you never see coming makes him feel better. It’s impossible, of course—but the illusion of control is stubborn and so seductive. 

Thankfully, it doesn’t come to that. 

At around 2 PM, he receives a couple of texts from Garcia that are a massive relief. 

Penelope: She’s at my apartment

Penelope: BE NICER TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!

The series of emojis that follow (including an octopus?), he doesn’t even try to decipher. He simply drops his phone and sighs deeply into his hands, releasing an extreme amount of paranoid tension that had been tying him into knots. Lately, he’s had this sense that everything is fleeting—that the things he takes for granted are painfully, violently impermanent. It doesn’t take anyone with a degree to figure out why he’s been feeling that way, but it’s so all-consuming he’s not sure how to cope with it. Just a few days ago, he’d been wondering how to break up with you. Now he’s asking himself how the fuck he thought he’d be able to do that when he’s barely functioning after a few hours without you.

It’s a question he still hasn’t answered by the time the front door opens at 10 PM. It’s clear by the deer-in-headlights look on your face that you hadn’t been expecting him like this—leaning over the counter, half-empty mug by his hand, staring at nothing in particular and waiting for you to come home. Neither of you have changed clothing since this morning—not that you could—but you look apprehensive as you close it behind you, never facing away from him. The whole thing is like a teenager being caught sneaking back in by a weary parent. 

For a moment the silent confrontation stretches into the horizon, a non-specific point as neither of you seem inclined to be the first to talk. You just watch him watching you—leaning against the door rigidly as if you can’t get far enough away. But he’s too tired for this. Too worn out. 

“How’d you get home?”

You swallow. 

“Penelope.”

Spencer nods slowly, rolling his bottom lip between teeth and finally looking away. 

“You really should have brought your phone.”

You scoff, peeling yourself from the door. 

“Of course that’s what you’re worried about.”

It’s the same situation as this morning, but in reverse—him following after you down the hall as you storm toward the bedroom. 

“Wh—should I not have been? You scared me—” he says your name, barely catching the door before it can slam in his face. “I was worried about you.”

“Why?” you face him, laughing bewilderedly as if the situation were at all funny. A kind of manic energy crackles from the surface of your skin and in your eyes that renders him unable to think of a reply. “Because you thought I would get raped and murdered and then you’d be sad?”

“Yes!” Spencer yells, eyes widening as he fails to contain his frustration any longer. “That is fucking exactly why I was scared!”

You step forward, getting in his space. It jars him, momentarily—he wants to get away from you. Being angry and so close to you is terrifying. What if he lashes out? What if he hurts you? He’s seen crimes of passion. His blood is freezing in his veins. 

“Of course you didn’t give one single fuck that I left you. You didn’t think for one fucking second that I might be tired of this. That wasn’t what you were scared of at all.” For every inch you near, he backs away. Another scorned, bitter laugh from you that feels like poison coursing through his entire circulatory system. You notice everything, eyeing him up and down as he cowers from you. “What is this, Spencer? If you hate being near me that much, just fucking break up with me.”

You’re close enough that he can see the tears welling in your eyes, but he’d know they were there even if he couldn’t observe them. He would hear it in your voice. He would feel it. But he can’t do anything about it. Right now, he’s paralyzed. 

“If the only thing holding you back is wanting to spare my feelings, just fucking do it. This isn’t better. I don’t give a fuck if it’s hard for you. It’s hard for me, too, but I’m not just going to ignore it anymore.”

There’s no more room. The wall is at is back. 

“Honey, please back up,” Spencer breathes. Last time his back was to a wall, he’d been gagged and beaten. Don’t lash out. She never hurt you. It wasn’t her. 

“Don’t tell me what to do!” you shout, as tears begin to spill over your cheeks. “Either break up with me or stop telling me to go away!”

At that moment, as you break down and your words become muddled with sobs, you raise your fist. 

Spencer watches it approach his shoulder as if in slow-motion. 

On instinct, he catches your wrist.

There’s a lull as he waits for something to explode, for something to go terribly, deeply wrong—

But it doesn’t. 

He realizes his grip is gentle. He realizes you’d never actually hurt him like that. He realizes how little resistance he’d found when he stopped what was sure to be nothing more than a petulant, petty bump against his shoulder—a maneuver that wouldn’t have hurt in the slightest. It was nothing more than a desolate, childlike display of feelings bigger than you know what to do with. 

In the second that it takes him to realize all of this, to realize he is not endangering you in the slightest, nor you him, you’ve begun to truly sob. Standing just inches from him, head angled down as he holds your wrist carefully, you are the picture of a girl who has been running on empty for a very long time and has nothing left to give. Spencer twines his arms around you, tucking your head under his chin and slowly rubbing your back like he’d never forgotten how to hold you. It stuns you, and the tears pause for just a second—before you’re wrapping desperate, weakened arms around him and sobbing even harder, albeit silently, into his shirt. 

“I don’t want to break up,” he whispers, his own voice shaky with understated emotion. “I’m sorry. Please don’t say that. I don’t want that.”

“What’s wrong with you?” You cry, a desperate plead caught between sobs that wrack your body against his against the wall. And he knows it’s not an accusation. It’s not an insult. It’s a question borne of confusion and fear. It’s what a child might ask a sick dog while tears stream down feverish cheeks. And it’s completely appropriate, considering he never tells you anything anymore and he’s only just realizing how scary that must be. Spencer is back from prison but you may as well still be living alone for all that you know about him. He tangles a hand in your hair and holds you against his chest, breathing you like nitrous oxide. 

“I don’t know,” he whispers. The room beyond blurs as he stares at nothing, focused only on the tingly euphoria of feeling you under his hands clashing with the ever-present and crushing shame that he couldn't do it sooner. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you—to be sorry.” Shuddering breaths and gasps still cleave your sentences in half, and Spencer listens so intently he thinks there might be harmonics hidden in the layers of your voice. He clings to every syllable like you’re wielding the word of god in a five-foot-something body. “I just miss you so m—much. I want you to—to love me.”

“I do,” he promises immediately, lips pressing to your ear. “I do love you. So much. So much.”

When you don’t respond, he’s not exactly surprised. He almost asks what he can do, what you need—but is quite sure that’s not the right move. Instead he doesn’t say a thing. Only holds you.

Later, you’ll pull back and he’ll swim in your teary gaze, and then kiss you. He’ll trace silent apologies into every inch of your skin under the torrent of the shower, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make you understand. But for now, for the first time in months, you’re holding each other, and that’s all either of you need.  

[lunavrse]

WHAT YOU HEARD

LANDO NORRIS

summary ★ : streets are saying yn finally broke up with her loser boyfriend and guess who couldn't be happier? if you guessed lando, you'd be wrong, it's actually her (but lando's a really close second).

category ★ : smau.

notes ★ : disregard all times and dates, they don't matter. all spelling mistakes are intentional. with that out of the way, finally someone other than charles even though i still have like 2 drafts for him that i need to finish. ntm on the banner and article 😶‍🌫️. when you get to the hello kitty reactions pls just scroll💀 it was funny when i made it but now it's just... and i cba to remove it. sorry this is so short 🙏.

part 2

yn_ln added to their story.

user00: oooh, girl's night????

user01: love seeing my fav wags out and about

user02: what happened to your foot? hope you're okay🫶

yourfriend: lils on her phone probably texting alex🙄 they make me sick w how cute they are

user03: y'all look so good🥴

user04: I just know that club's hot as satan's arsehole, how do you look so good? what's your secret🎤

alex_albon: please bring my girlfriend back in one piece🙏

yn_ln: nah, she's my girlfriend now😪

user05: no ezra? break up abeg

maxfewtrell replied to your Close Friends story : did you forget she's on your cf

landonorris: do you think i'm stupid? obviously i removed her before posting this

maxfewtrell: so you do have a working brain cell🤗 congrats🎉

monaspencer replied to your story : wasteman is hilarious but deserved.

alex_albon replied to your Close Friends story : may your efforts fail 🤞🙏

landonorris: WOW🤣🤣

alex_albon: nothing personal mate🤷‍♂️

landonorris: WDYM nothing personal, you're literally cursing me😒

randomfriend replied to your story : VINDICATION!!! i knew you couldn't read🥳

alex_albon replied to your Close Friends story : why did he have to be such a simp, now i owe lily and mona money

yn_ln: you're a millionaire, you can afford it, so suck it up king👑🫶🏽

monaspencer replied to your Close Friends story : you just made me 200€ richer😘

yn_ln: i actually don't want to know...

lilymhe replied to your Close Friends story : now alex owes mo and i money, thank you🙏🏻

yn_ln: glad to be of service?

landonorris replied to your Close Friends story : i wonder who that handsome guy is

yn_ln: some stray i found wandering around and out of the goodness of my heart, i decided to bring into my home

landonorris: you're not funny

yn_ln: then why were you laughing at all my jokes earlier?

landonorris: i was laughing at how bad they were😕

yn_ln: sure...

charles_leclerc replied to your story : tangled on a date? how romantic

yourfriend replied to your Close Friends story : this doesn't look very "im done w yt men" 🤔

yn_ln: you're in my business, don't do that😁

yourfriend: but it's so interesting 🥴

⤷ end note ‧ ★ : made a cute lil divider so hopefully it distracts you from everything else😋. honestly this took so long bc i was mostly working with vibes, no writing, no thoughts, just vibes. i don't know how some of y'all are so fast, like you guys amaze me, my goal is to just get more than 1 smau per month out. also i will no longer be writing for charles leclerc bc someone said he looked like noah schnapp and i can't unsee it 💀💀 gonna have to change the drafts🥲

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Me or him

pairing: hyunjin x reader x felix

genre: angst, smut

warning/s: toxic behavior, manipulation, cheating, forced creampie

a/n: okay, this is just something i wrote on a whim and i have 29 drafts i have to finish(yep 29 ajsksksl), but do y'all want more of this? like a backstory and a continuation cause i have some ideas? lmk if i should makes this a series. 👁️👄👁️

~part 2,part 3, part 4

"We really need to stop doing this."- you whine, the guilty feeling swirling in your stomach, keeping you from the high you were supposed to reach.

"Do you really wanna stop? Right now?"- Felix smirks, dragging his cock out slowly, your legs tightening around him instinctively.

"N-no..."- you whimper, defeated. He pushes back in with force, ripping a loud moan out of you. You slap your hand over your lips in hopes of muffling the sounds but Felix grabs your wrist gently.

"Ah, ah, ah. Let me hear you sweetheart."- he says and you let him place your hand down next to your head. He fucks into you faster, holding tightly onto your hand, his other hand on your hip and you moan loudly, letting him know how good he makes you feel.

"Fuck, I'm close!"- you grab onto his arm, your nails digging into his skin.

"Come for me sweetheart."- Felix growls into your ear and you come undone.

You feel his hips stutter and your hand pushes on his chest.

"D-don't come inside me!"- you try to push him off.

"You know you want me to."- he grunts, your efforts futile as he holds you down, fucking into you faster and harder, your cunt clenching around his cock.

"Lix!"- you whimper as he groans, spilling his seed inside you.

"Why did you do that?! I told you that's one thing we should never do!"- you panic as he pulls out.

"What, is Hyunjin gonna taste my cum in your pussy?"- he smirks and you really didn't have enough time to think before your hand moves on its own and collides with his cheek.

You gasp, shocked at your own reaction, and Felix just puts a hand on his cheek, his eyes also widdened before his face morphs into an all too familiar smirk.

"Do that again, it was kinda hot."- he says and you roll your eyes at him.

"I'm going home, Felix."- you say, annoyed. You move to get up but he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him.

"Don't."- you warn.

"You don't have to leave yet."- he whispers into your neck, shivers run down your spine.

"Hyunjin will get suspicious."- you sigh, a pang in your chest.

"What did you tell him this time?"- Felix asks, leaving small kisses on your neck.

"That I'm going out with the girls."- you say and turn around, managing to shake off his arms. He suddenly has these puppy eyes and pouty lips that you hate because you know he's trying to manipulate you into staying.

"Look, this was wrong from the beginning. This is the last time Felix and I know I said it before... but this time I really mean it."- you stand up and start gathering your clothes.

"You don't really mean it."- he shakes his head.

"Yes I fucking do. I don't want to go behind Hyunjin's back anymore. That's just wrong on so many levels and I feel like a shit person."- you say, tears brimming in your eyes.

"Break up with him?"- Felix says as he gets up too, but it comes out as more of a question.

"And what?"- you scoff. "Be with you?"

"What would be so wrong with that?"- he asks nonchalantly, making your blood boil.

"Are you out of your mind? You're his best friend. Or were at least. And why would I wanna be with someone who has no problems fucking his best friend's girlfriend?"- you're angry now, tears spilling down your cheeks but you wipe them off fast. You don't want to cry in front of him.

"Like you're any different than me. Maybe we deserve each other."- Felix says with a smirk and you want to slap him again.

"You know what? I'm done. Don't talk to me ever again."- you say, getting dressed quickly.

"It's gonna be hard to ignore me since I'm Hyunjin's best friend!"- he yells behind you as you walk towards the door.

You hate him in that moment, but you hate yourself even more and a dark unsettling feeling settles in your stomach when you remember Hyunjin, waiting for you at home, unaware of what you just did.

[vanishingcherry]

Hey Leah, hope you’re doing good. If you’re taking requests, please could I get either Charles or Lando x fem reader. I had a really shitty day and my friends seem really distant and I feel super sad. Thank you x

PIANO LESSONS

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

author's note: heyy! im so sorry about your day... i hope you're feeling better now 🥰. im sorry its a bit late, ive just been in a writing slump and didn't have anything finished. ive had this in my drafts for a while tho so here you go!

masterlist

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

It was summer break, which meant Charles was home for over 2 weeks and you had him all to yourself. Granted, you did have days in which you would go out with family and friends, but it was a manner of speaking. It meant that you would be together almost 24/7 for days at a time, something rare in his career.

That was why the two of you had pre-decided to make the most of it. Charles felt guilty sometimes, about not being, in his words, the boyfriend you deserved. Although you had told him multiple times that he was perfect, he held on to that insecurity, which is why you went along with everything he planned, knowing that all he wanted to do was spend time with you.

You could honestly say you had been on more dates in the last week than you had so far in the year. There were the simple dinner dates, movie dates, hiking dates and also the more unique ones, such as the one that ended with, for some reason, throwing paint on each other.

But with all that, there were also the more quiet days. The days in which the two of you would stay in your apartment all day long. Those were your favourite days. There was something special about being able to wake up late, not having to worry about work or some sort of event.

"Have you been awake a while?" you whisper, shifting so that you would be closer to him, tucking your head under his own as he continues to run his fingers through your hair.

"Ouais." he murmurs. Yeah. "Mais c'est bien. I like looking at you."

It was another one of these days, and you were coming back from the kitchen with a snack when you heard the soft notes of the piano. Smiling, you switched off your phone and walked into the makeshift studio you and Charles had converted a guest bedroom into.

He had taken piano lessons during quarantine, and you had never been happier with his decision. There would be times in which you would come home from work, the sound of music immediately putting you in a state of relaxation.

You stand in the doorway, watching as his fingers dance across the keys. A few minutes later, when he stops playing, you walk over and sit next to him.

"What piece was that?" you ask softly, not wanting to speak too loud. You rest your head on his shoulder, offering him a chip from your bowl.

"Did you like it?" he replies, answering with a question of his own.

"Yeah, it was beautiful. I loved it."

"It's mine. I made it." he admits sheepishly. "I was just trying something out."

"REALLY? Oh my god, amour!" Your eyes widen at his words, head turning towards him in disbelief.

"Yeah. You actually like it?"

"Yes, of course! Oh my god, bebe. How did you- I'm so proud."

He shyly smiles at your praise, before piping up. "Do you want me to teach you?"

"Your song?" you ask, clearly excited.

"Well" he starts. "Maybe not my song right now, but I can teach you an easier song... and then we can work up to my song?"

"Ouais! I can't believe I never thought of that before."

He smiles at your enthusiasm before wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. He then gently takes your hands, placing them on the keys, keeping his fingers over your own. He looks at your expressing for a few seconds, unable to stop the smile from creeping on his face as he realises just how special you are.

"You press this finger and this finger at the same time, and hold it for a second" he directs, after shaking his head to focus, pressing down on the right keys.

You follow his directions, going over ever note a few times before moving on. He was patient, overly so, helping you with the biggest grin as you ask him to repeat the last few steps.

Before you knew it, it had been over an hour, and you had learnt quite a bit of what Charles was teaching you. At this point, both of your attention spans were low, and there wasn't a lot of playing going on. Rather, it was you trying to get through the last few notes before a break while Charles lightly tickled your sides, proving to be an annoyingly cute distraction.

"I think I'm done for today" you sigh, shifting slightly to rest your back against Charles.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm tired." you say.

He nods sympathetically before standing up and pulling on your hands to make you do the same.

"You go to bed and put something on the TV, okay? I'll make dinner and be there soon."

"Are you sure? Do you want me to help?"

"It's just pasta" he replies, shrugging and lightly pushing you in the direction of the bedroom.

"Okay... but I want mine al dente", you emphasize. "Not croccante"

liked by arthurleclerc, scuderiaferrari and 309,857 others

yourusername thanks for the piano lesson @.charlesleclerc

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charlesfan oh to have charles as a piano teacher

scuderiaferrari couple goals

ynfan AUS23 yn's pov when

charlesleclerc of course ❤️... same time tomorrow?

↳ yourusername i'd love to

[lungs4sale]

my fav hannigram fanfics

png by @pngsforyou

1. Impasto by jiggityjams

“You’re not going to try to discourage me, Will?” Another glance, a pursing of lips. “... No. I can see the determination in your face. You know what you want and you have the means to obtain it. Most clients think they know what they want- until they hear how long it will take and how much that work will cost. We’ll work out some numbers, of course, and draft a contract. If you’re willing to be patient with the piece then I’m willing to give it my best go.” A small, pleased smile spread across the psychiatrist’s face. “I think this is the start of a beautiful partnership, Will. I look forward to working with you.” Or the one where Hannibal has found a lost treasure and Will has given up on police work and has turned his talents to restoring oil paintings.

this is a different au where will quits the fbi and becomes a painter (if im not wrong). abigail is alive and works for him. i read this awhile ago and i remember loving it because of how sarcastic will was. one of my notes was: will was so desperate to open up (not sure why but this man is so touch starved and craved for affection in the show so i guess it's canon accurate). i also have a soft spot for fics with abigail in it because she deserves the world.

2.  Five Times Hannibal Visits Will and One Time He's Already Home (or: Coffee Cake) by bones_2_be

When Will tells Hannibal to leave at the end of Digestivo, he goes. And then, a few years later, he shows back up. They have long conversations, drink a lot of wine, at the end of it all they find something that works.

i just finished reading this 2 days ago and it was an experience. i loved how well paced it was. the writing really matched the same vibe of the show. both hannibal and will were written quite accurately to how i feel they would react in the show itself. the way both of them interacted in this fic was realistic and how i wish i could erase my mind of this fic so i could experience it again for the first time.

3.  each according to its kind by chaparral_crown

Will does the only reasonable thing that someone fresh out of a mental hospital with no support system does - he leaves, and goes on a road trip to the Pacific Northwest.

this fic is THE hannigram fic, fight with the wall. kidding. this is more of a character study of will (hannibal doesn't even show until halfway through). the writing is top tier and just like the fic before it really does match the vibe of the show. i personally am not a big fan of smut (i don't mind it, i just prefer plot over that) and this book barely had any in it which is a godsend.

4.  ...And This One is Just Right by Sabi

When an injured BSHCI escapee breaks into Dr. Graham's vet clinic, it doesn't end cleanly. Surely it couldn't happen again? Or again?

will is a vet in this universe and i'm not sure why but i pictured him younger? it's only 4 chapters if im not wrong and it's a fun read! the characterisation of will is not as accurate to the show but to be fair it is a different universe and i still love this fic dearly.

pngs by @saizun

i'll post more because i want to create an archive here. i don't really like how ao3 looks so i'm going to do it on tumblr instead. if you have any hannigram recs plsplsplspls let me know because i'm literally begging for scraps sire. also merry christmas to those celebrating!

[monbons]

an ask game for writers to procrastinate working on your WIP(s)

thanks for tagging me @bookish-bogwitch, @thewholelemon, @cutestkilla, and @noblecorgi!

1. 🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s): Currently, living, breathing, and eating my one and only WIP: The Eternal Life of Baz Pitch. Also, I am probably retiring after this fic because I do not think I can top it!

2. 🍄Describe your WIP/one of your WIP(s) in the format of “___ + ___ =___” Addie LaRue + SnowBaz = so much pain and angst

3. 🌍What tags or warnings will one of your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it? Period-typical homophobia, Implied/referenced DV, Blood and Injury, Death... I mean truly the works. This is SnowBaz in the darkest possible timeline.

4. 🧭An alternative title to one of your WIP(s)? At one point, I joked with @thewholelemon about naming it "Baz Pitch's 300 Year Long Grope-Fest" but for obvious reasons that title would really do a disservice to this fic (although it is sort of true).

5. ⚠️Which WIP you're most likely to finish or update next? Now that I've created a posting schedule for The Eternal Life of Baz Pitch, I want to stick to it. While I'm "done" drafting, I am still making a few big revisions to the last six chapters. I've also been re-reading the first chapters for continuity issues that may have cropped up now that I know how this ends. Either way, I can see the finish line.

6. 💾What is your document of your WIP/ a WIP called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as) It started out as "Addie LaRue Working Draft." Once the one doc got unwieldy and long, it spun out into multiple docs titled all sorts of things - mostly chapter numbers, but I do have one not as fun as it sounds doc called "Sex Playground." (ha!)

7. 🖍Post Any sentence(s) from your WIP. “Are you so naive as to think I cannot watch you whenever it pleases me, even if you cannot see me?”

8. ♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP. I actually have SEVERAL scenes I scrapped...like pages and pages! Largely this is because I have a whole document titled "Voice," which served as a sandbox of sorts where I could play with every possible combination of POV, tone, and style before committing to the final version you see in the story now. There's even a scene in there told first-person Niall! (Bonkers.)

I also have a whole ACTUAL scene I'd love to include as an answer to this question because it was well-written, but I cut it because it made the plot unnecessarily complicated, was frankly too close to the original plot of Addie, and would have made my ending impossible. It is also--sadly--too big a spoiler to include here, so let me give you a few sentences from "Sex Playground" that will not be making the cut:

“Stay.” Baz pushes his hand into the center of Simon’s chest, pressing him back into the mattress. “I want to look at you.” Simon gives Baz a filthy smile. He can look all he wants. 

9. 🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet? I really want to write a canon divergence where Simon successfully but somewhat accidentally reveals Baz is a vampire fifth year, so Baz and the whole Pitch family have to flee from the Mage. I already have the "everybody finds out" scene written and the scene where the Mage realizes the Pitch family is gone, so I guess I have started it. But, I also have no idea where it's going or what it's about, so I haven't really accomplished anything. If anyone has ideas or wants to be a partner-in-crime on this, give me a little shout!

10. 🤡How many WIPS are you actively working on? Literally just this one. Again, I am retiring after this fic! (Or at least taking a very well-deserved break.)

11. 🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now? Absolutely 100% it is writing the smut. Having never written any on-page sex means I'm figuring it out as I go. Lots of frustrated growls from me (not nearly as frustrated from Simon).

12. ❤️Not a question, just a second Kudos to send. I know many of you have already posted, but tagging anyway since you've commented/liked past WIPsdays and such, in case you're interested in the behind the scenes!

@valeffelees, @roomwithanopenfire, @noblecorgi, @cutestkilla, @iamamythologicalcreature, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @youarenevertooold, @drowninginships, @emeryhall, @hushed-chorus, @rimeswithpurple, @aristocratic-otter, @larkral, @artsyunderstudy, @brilla-brilla-estrellita

[intosnarkness]

80. “How can you think I’m anything but hopelessly in love with you?” Kanej

(1 2 or make up your own) (ask)

Kaz knows what he is.

He knows who he is, mostly. But he also knows what he is.

And he is not a good man.

There are some who might try to dissuade him of that notion - people who mistake punishing rich assholes for their hubris with being some kind of crusading do-gooder. People who can't tell the difference between doing a favor, and earning a boon. People who don't understand how the world works on supply and demand, and Kaz works for profit.

There are a few of those.

But Kaz doesn't care much about them. If someone looks at him and sees something good, they're not very good at looking.

And then there’s Inej.

Beautiful, dangerous, deadly Inej. Who sees him- really sees him- and stands, unflinching, by his side.

He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t, and he never will.

“When are you going to tell her?” Jesper asks, over the third or fourth bottle of wine in the Van Eck manor. Wylan is out of town, and Kaz has been here too long, drank too much. They’re both on the floor of the sitting room, their backs against the stuffy, stiff couches. It’s better down here.

He doesn’t want to have this conversation with anyone, least of all Jesper.

“It’s not that easy,” Kaz says, not meeting his friend’s eyes

“It’s exactly that easy,” Jesper huffs. “You look her in the eye, and you say ‘Inej, I have three emotions: revenge, greed, and overwhelming lust.’ And then you tell her which ones you feel for her.”

Kaz rolls his eyes “I will leave.”

“You won’t,” Jesper waves one of his hands at him lazily, and he’s right. Kaz knows he’s right. They’ve spent too many years together for Jesper not to be able to see Kaz’s drunken tells. He keeps catching himself laying the back of his hand over his cheek, feeling for the warmth that floods his face when he’s had too many. He’s in no state to head back to the slat tonight.

“I have told her,” Kaz breathes, ignoring the noise of disbelief that Jesper makes. “I’ve told her every way I know how.”

“Calling her an investment isn’t romantic, you Kerch bastard,” Jesper sneers. “No other group of people think that calling your lover prosperous is a good idea. Idiots.”

Kaz has the distinct feeling that Jesper has had this argument before. Probably many times. He wonders idly what Wylan says in bed that causes this level of frustration in his friend.

“What should I do?” Kaz says, taking the bottle of wine and finishing it off in one gulp. “Start writing romantic drivel about her eyes and her hair and my heart?”

“What heart?” Jesper scoffs, and Kaz doesn’t flinch because he’s right. He’s right and it’s good to be reminded of it.

But it does hurt, and the wine is gone, and Kaz needs to get out of this conversation before he does something stupid like start talking about Inej’s laugh.

He could absolutely write romantic drivel about her laugh.

“Good night,” Kaz says, hauling himself to his feet. Jesper protests, but Kaz just heads to the guest room they keep on the ground floor for him, a sweet consideration that allows him to break in easily when he needs to, but also spares him the stairs when he’s far too unsteady to take them.

There’s a pen and paper on the desk in his room, he assumes in case some kind of commerce emergency breaks out and he needs to draft a contract. Instead he takes the stack of paper and sits on the bed, staring at the unbroken white expanse of it.

Dearest Inej, he writes. How could you think I’m anything but hopelessly in love with you?

It feels terrible. It feels like opening a wound and bleeding onto the paper. Inej doesn’t want his blood. He crumples the paper and tosses it in the fire.

He’s not going to do this, not in writing. Not tonight. If she doesn’t know, she’ll have to find out another way. He throws the rest of the paper in after the letter, pulls off his boots, and goes to sleep.

He doesn’t dream of her. And if he does, he’ll never admit it.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

A/N: Yes, this one is from my drafts again. I'm trying to clear it out. Delete stuff, finish uncompleted stuff. . .ya know. This is because I think Steve deserves to be wooed. I also think Chrissy and Eddie have a weird, sexual thing with food. It's a bit long.

After spring break, Eddie and Chrissy were quick to get together. She had really tried to wait after she dumped Jason's insane ass, a period of time spme people thought he didn't deserve. It was really more for her, though. The next time she had seen Eddie, however, she recalled his concert he dedicated to her in the Upside Down, and her heart fluttered. He was talking to Wayne on the porch when they saw her walk up from her car. Wayne smiled in greeting and went to head inside.

"Uncle Wayne! I wasn't finished with my story!" Eddie exclaimed.

"The young lady has a look on her face that says she wants to kiss you," Wayne said. "Though I'm happy for you, I don't want to see it."

"What? No, she doesn't! - mmh!" Eddie was cut off by Chrissy's lips.

She pulled back and bit her lip. Shit, should she have asked first? Yeah, she should have. Bad Chrissy.

"I needed to borrow your lips for a moment," she said.

"You can borrow my lips anytime, Chrissy Cunningham," Eddie smirked. "Can I borrow yours?"

She giggled and leaned in to kiss him again. It wasn't long after they started dating that they started to hang out with Robin and Steve. They were so easy to hang out with and have fun with, especially with everything they had gone through together. Chrissy and Eddie found it really enjoyable to hang out with Steve. Chrissy was curled up on the couch with Eddie, across from the other two as they laughed.

"I still can't believe she thought you two were together," Chrissy giggled.

"Yeah, from the moment I laid eyes on the both of you, I knew that you guys were strictly platonic," Eddie said.

"That doesn't mean shit, Eddie! You thought that there was still something between Nancy and Steve!" Chrissy laughed, causing the other two to laugh with her.

"You're lucky you are so cute, Cunningham, I might have thrown you right into Steve’s pool," Eddie said.

"Yeah. It's not because you know that I could kick your ass," Chrissy replied.

"Oh, please," he scoffed. "I could totally take you."

"Like the way I took you last night?" Chrissy asked coyly, and Eddie blushed.

Steve coughed loudly, knowing their talk was about to get filthy. He blushed.

"No, what's ridiculous is how she tried to set me up with Robin when I was clearly flirting with her," Steve said. "I mean, I stopped when she did that because I didn't want to come off as pushy or desperate. I did tell her that I was flirting with her, and she actually didn't know. She laughed, and then she said she hated jocks."

"Oh, damn. That sucks," Eddie said, wincing.

"Well, what she said was that she hated meat head jocks. She didn't exactly say I was one of them, but it was clearly inplied," he sighed, and Robin scowled, opening her mouth to say something.

"Oh, fuck her," Chrissy spat. "And not in a good way. Fuck her straight to hell."

Eddie laughed and kissed her harshly.

"I love your mouth," he laughed.

"I love yours more, especially when you're using it to - ," Chrissy was cut off.

"Woah! Hey! Innocent ears here!" Robin said, pointing at herself.

"Not so innocent if you thought that's what I was going to say," Chrissy said with a smirk. "I was going to say that I love it when he uses it to read aloud."

Eddie's face was red as he buried his head into her shoulder while everyone laughed. Judging by the way he was shaking, Eddie was laughing, too. It always surprised everyone whenever Chrissy was so filthy minded.

"I'm changing the fucking topic. We're doing a casual hangout thing at my house next Saturday if anyone wants to come," Eddie said.

"No can do, I have my own thing on Saturday, and I will not say anymore," Robin said.

"Well, Steve, you're more than welcome to come," Eddie said. "We're having a picnic."

"Are you sure?" Steve asked.

"Of course, we always want you around," Chrissy said sweetly, and Steve blushed.

Saturday quickly rolled around, and Steve showed up to find them waiting for him at the picnic table outside of the Munsons' new house. It was sort of hot out today, so Steve had decided to wear shorts and a tank top. Chrissy and Eddie's eyes raked over him, neither one of the realizing that they were both checking him out. It wasn't until the middle of the lunch that they both realized they had feelings for the man.

They listened as they let him go on for a while, watching as his eyes lit up when he started talking about the kids and the way he talked about Robin. His eyes turned downcast when he mentioned his parents weren't coming home for his birthday, but he smiled when Eddie and Chrissy took his hands in theirs. He let go when he went back to eating. He peeled the banana and started popping pieces into his mouth. They watched in awe as he stuffed his mouth full, his cheeks filling out like a chipmunk. It was so endearing. They must have been staring intently because Steve started blushing and looked at them awkwardly.

"Um. . .hi?" He asked.

"Hi," They said breathlessly.

Steve looked at them as he slowly swallowed and licked his lips. Chrissy bit her lip as she followed his tongue with her eyes while Eddie hid his face in Chrissy's hair.

"Are you guys okay?" Steve asked.

"Oh, yeah!" They both said rather quickly.

Shortly after that, Steve left, and the young couple went inside to enjoy the cool air. Eddie groaned and face planted into his bed.

"Don't get mad at me, please, but Steve is ridiculously good looking," Eddie said, his voice muffled.

"It is completely ridiculous," Chrissy agreed before plopping down next to him, choosing to lay on her back.

"You think he's hot too?" Eddie asked, moving to support himself on his elbows.

"Yes, it would be easier if he had an ugly personality, but he's just so . . . ," Chrissy said, trailing.

"So fucking sweet and amazing?" Eddie asked and she nodded. "Wait, are we crushing on the same guy?"

"I think so," Chrissy giggled as she watched him flop onto his back like he was a fish.

"It sucks that he can't find someone out there who wants him as much as we do," Eddie said with sigh.

Chrissy sat up quickly and straddled her boyfriend.

"Eddie! That's it!" She exclaimed, slapping his chest. "If he's willing. . .maybe we can all be together."

"All three of us?" Eddie asked.

"I've got room in my heart for the both of you," Chrissy replied. "What about you?"

"I mean, yeah," Eddie said. "We don't know if he's into guys."

"Do you think he's worth the risk?" Chrissy asked.

"Oh, yeah," Eddie grinned as he flipped Chrissy onto her back and kissed her.

When Steve’s birthday came around, they made sure he was working when they went over to his house. Eddie knew exactly where the spare key was and used it to let themselves in.

"Aww, I wanted to shimmy up the drainpipe," Chrissy said, and Eddie couldn't help but kiss her pouty lips.

They were both wearing purple, a color Steve had commented once that they both looked good in it. Eddie was in a new button-up shirt paired with his best black pants, and he had actually followed Steve’s instructions for how to take care of his hair. Eddie hated to admit it, but his curls actually looked pretty good. Meanwhile, Chrissy was wearing a simple, sleeveless dress with her hair curled around her shoulders. They began to make Steve’s favorite dinner, and when they heard him walk through the door, Chrissy hurried to put on his favorite song: Heaven by Bryan Adams. Steve appeared in the doorway, looking flummoxed.

"I thought I said that I didn't want to make a big deal out of my birthday," Steve said.

"You said you didn't want a big party," Eddie said.

"It's just the three of us," Chrissy said.

"We can make it if we try, just the three of us," Eddie sang, and Chrissy giggled.

"Anway, supper is almost done. There are clothes on your bed. I picked out your favorite yellow button-up," Chrissy said.

"And I picked out the pants that make your tuches pop!" Eddie said. "I didn't think that it could get more popping."

"You guys are dressing me now?" Steve asked, smiling. "And apparently fond of my tuches, whatever that is."

"It's your rear, dear," Chrissy grinned and softened her smile. "You don't have to wear the clothes. We just want to show how special we think you are. Tonight is all about you."

"Don't have to twist my arm, I was always going to wear them," he said, looking at them fondly.

When he came downstairs, dinner was on the table, and candles were lit, the lights lowered to give it a romantic setting. Steve furrowed his eyebrows, but he sat down anyway and dug in.

"This is really good. Thank you for this," Steve said.

"It's never a problem when it's for you, Stevie," Eddie said, batting his eyelashes at him, and Steve blushed, smiling down at his food.

"So, how was your day?" Chrissy asked.

"Well, it sucked but it's looking up," Steve said.

"Yeah, how's that?" Chrissy smiled.

"My two, uh, best friends showed up and cooked me dinner for my birthday," Steve said. "It's definitely my favorite birthday ever."

"Just best friends?" Chrissy asked.

"Huh?"

"Are we just best friends, Stevie?" Eddie asked.

"I mean, what else - is this a date?" Steve asked.

"Do you want it to be?" Chrissy asked.

"Do you want it to be?" Steve asked.

"We asked you first, big boy," Eddie laughed.

"And I asked you second," Steve replied.

"Yes, we want it to be a date," Chrissy laughed.

"Oh, thank god!" Steve exclaimed, sighing in relief. "I've been crushing on you two for a while now. I just didn't know how to bring it up . . . I've never been wooed before."

Eddie and Chrissy shared a grin before moving around to the other side of the table before they each threw a leg over his legs, pressing up against him.

"Oh, baby," Eddie said. "We're going to woo the fuck out of you."

"We're going to woo your brains out," Chrissy said.

"Because it's what you deserve," Eddie said.

They leaned in and kissed his cheeks.

"You really know how to make a guy feel special," Steve said.

"It's because you are special, Steve," Chrissy said and paused. "Can we feed you?"

"What?"

"We like to see you eat," Eddie said.

"Um, yeah, it's weird, but I like the idea," Steve blushed.

Chrissy picked up his fork and began feeding him the rest of his dinner. She smiled as she watched his cheeks fill up.

"Imagine how good he looks if his mouth was full of you, Eddie," Chrissy said, and Steve nearly choked on his food. "Swallow, sweetheart."

"Do you only have one thing on your mind, Chrissy?" Steve asked in amusement.

"She gets hornier the more in love she is, and also, the more loved she is," Eddie laughed.

"Being loved and cared for is so sexy," Chrissy said, shrugging her shoulders, not ashamed at all.

"It is," Steve said softly.

Chrissy leaned in and kissed him, nipping at his bottom lip before pulling away. Eddie grinned before moving in for his own kiss. He took the fork from Chrissy and started to make airplane sounds with his mouth.

"No! No, airplanes, trains, or dragons! None of that shit!" Steve laughed.

"Aw, come on, just let one dragon in!" Eddie exclaimed. "You're his treasure, and your mouth is his cave."

Steve laughed but opened his mouth and let him feed him. Once dinner was done, Eddie and Chrissy brought out his favorite cake: red velvet. This time, Steve insisted on feeding them, and he could see why they liked doing it. Once the rest of the cake was put away, Eddie and Chrissy started to clean up the kitchen. Steve had to twist their arms into letting him help. He pointed out that it was his night and he got to choose. It helped when he started blasting Bob Seger and made it fun.

"So," Eddie said, turning to him after they finished. "It's your night, Stevie. What do you want to do next? We rented your favorite movie."

"Actually . . .," Steve said. "Can we take this upstairs?"

"You ready for the both of us, big boy?" Eddie asked.

"Oh, yeah," Steve grinned.

Eddie and Chrissy took his hands as they led him upstairs to his room. They began to undress each other as soon as they walked through the door.

"Before we really begin, you should know that -," Eddie started to say.

"OW!"

" - Chrissy bites."

"Did I hurt you, baby?" Chrissy asked. "You can tell me if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable."

"No, actually, I liked it. It just surprised me," Steve replied.

It was surprisingly easy after that to go from being friends to the three of them being lovers. Steve really had the best partners who and despite all of their differences, they were able to work with them, especially his. His parents always made him feel like a burden, but being with Eddie and Chrissy, he felt like he could truly be himself, no matter how weird he was. He couldn't ask for better romantic partners. Later, when they hung out with Robin, he found himself squished between Eddie and Chrissy while Robin curled up with Vickie. Steve was well and truly happy. Steve had everything he needed: his partners, Robin, the kids. . . .everyone was healing and moving forward. Although they would never be the same again, Steve found that it wasn't necessarily a bad thing, especially when you had love in your life, whether it was romantic or platonic.

[forever--darling]

Hiiii! Your writing is just *chef's kiss*. Like seriously, I, for some time couldn't read anything, just like, I couldn't focus on the story, yk? Anyways, your Neteyam story got me glued to my screen!! It was so amazing, you deserve an award!

Do you have any tips to a fellow writer, to improve her writing? Thank you!

this ask has my heart! I was waiting for this one.

tips

1. practice practice practice. seriously the only way to perfect your craft. I have been writing for years and over that time I have grown so much into my own style. that being said, when you start out present yourself with some grace. you may write something and not like it one bit and that's okay. it is a first draft for a reason.

2. read as much as you can. this was how I found what I liked and didn't like with writing styles. take note of what your favorite authors do or what writing pieces really stuck for you. note why it did. ---- for me, descriptions and lots of detail became what I preferred.

3. ^^^ with this though that doesn't mean copying word for word what authors say. identify what techniques they use that you like or certain themes and use them for inspiration.

4. outlines. I find these to be my savior. I use my notes app because it's always close by. when I have an idea I write it down. this way you can brainstorm and plan out the story. however, this also means you aren't obligated to follow it. outlines are not meant to be static. if you have thoughts while you're writing or a new idea, go with it. adjust your outline as you go.

5. dictionary, google, etc. research, and research if you are unsure of a phrase, the right word being used, or a topic. take breaks if it feels like it's too much. also, use google as a tool to spice up your writing and exchange words here and there. just don't overuse it. you want your voice to still shine through the writing.

6. take breaks, writing is energy-consuming, and sometimes you may feel pressure to finish with deadlines but your brain and hands need a break once in a while. eat or sleep or read something else, to rest your mind from writing. it will make your writing better in the future.

7. most of all writing has no bounds, especially fiction, rules are bendable and follow what your heart is saying. write about what inspires you and what you're passionate about. also let me reiterate, be kind to yourself and don't compare. you are your own person with your own style.

8. lastly, honorable mention: I like to make picture boards and playlists. anything to help me better visualize the plot and setting I am trying to convey, as well as my characters. it's a fun little activity and it adds so much to the aesthetic!

[imtooscaredforthis]

I’m waiting for the attention span to read a multi chapter fic so I can finally read all of it but i just wanted to applaud you for what little i have read of entrapment! I found your acc a while ago and i read through all of fixation before moving onto entrapment, I think it was around the time chapter 6 was posted when I finally decided I had to follow to make sure I didn’t lose track of your fic. Anyways all of this is really long winded just to say that your writing is amazing, I think about it often, and I think you deserve so much more engagement than you get. It takes hard work and dedication to write such a long series and you’ve done exactly that, it’s an accomplishment and I sincerely hope that you are proud of yourself and also that you continue writing because you have some serious talent!!

You’re so sweet…This post literally made my day. It has been very difficult for me to find motivation to write this year, especially since I’ve started college. This past year I’ve had to balance athletics, academics, my social life and mental health along with writing, and it has been pretty hard. Not to mention I’m writing multiple fanfictions at once because I just love to spread myself paper thin 😭. But honestly, I love writing fanfiction. It’s my little escape from reality and I get myself all giddy when coming up with plot and thinking of dialogue, and while stories can take forever to finish, I think it’s a part of the fun. Like I can leave the story and come back and remember what’s going to happen next and how excited I am about it. Do I have the whole story for Entrapment planned out? Yes. Am I probably not going to start another draft for at least three weeks? Also yes. And I love reading your reactions in the comments, especially when there’s some huge plot twist that just happened or a detail readers notice, it truly makes my day. So no, I’m definitely not giving up on writing anytime soon, don’t worry about that! I might take some breaks here and there like I’ve had to this past year but that’s it. Thank you so much for your love and support!! <333

[campbyler]

ok. a genuine question. how do u guys write 20-30k *chapters* bc i will outline fics minutely or i will just let myself start writing based off a vibe & either way i will get 600 words out of maybe. two hours of work. on a good day with no distractions/interruptions, & i very much do not have an uninterrupted two hours to write very often, so you can imagine how slowly things get written T_T so i’m interested if there’s any aspect of any of your writing processes that really enables u guys to write so much or if it’s not really something you think about? anyways i really like ur guys’s work, & thank you for deciding to write for byler bc i know me and a lot of people enjoy it a lot. thanks!!

hello !! this is a super valid question and i’ll try my best to answer it for you 😗✌️

andi infamously writes a lot faster than thea and i do (she finished draft 1 of chapter 3 in like. two days. which was so scary. i’m in awe of her fr) but she has also spent a lot of time editing ch3 so it’s definitely not like these chapters are publish-ready in a short amount of time by any means! it took thea a couple of months total to fully write + edit ch1 and it took me about 3.5 weeks to write ch2 and another two weeks to edit it which is part of the reason we’ve spaced out our posting schedule like we have — we put a lot of effort and care into these updates and we want to give ourselves as much time as possible to get ahead before all 3 of us inevitably get so super busy with work and/or school in the fall!! so while we do write a lot, please don’t think we are so insanely speedy about it because unless we are having Really Good Writing Days, that’s definitely not the case. sometimes we do have days where we are really in the zone and write more than usual, but at least for me, this is so so so rare. whatever i write in this time gets heavily edited because so much of it was nonsensical brain vomit LOL

as far as writing process goes, i think one of the things that motivates us a lot is that we genuinely do just talk about this au constantlyyyyy like we’re always coming up with silly little hcs or drawing for it or adding to the Lore ™️so we’re always getting inspired to write! all three of us are definitely people who use writing as a way to relax or even reward ourselves after a long day; we would probably die if we had to go too long unable to :/ messages like “i can’t wait to get home and write after work today” or “i’m going to write a little bit of ___ before bed because i deserve it” are very commonly found in our gc because we really just look forward to it so much! as for our scary word counts, i feel like there is a lot of worldbuilding in this universe specifically, and pacing is really important to us — we want to make sure introductions and set-up to a scene and character interactions are meaningful and flow naturally, and building tension (which is a hallmark of this fic hehe) does take some time, which can definitely add up word count-wise.

for the most part, none of us usually have a solid few hours to sit and write either (unless it’s on our days off or after work if we’re not too tired) and we get a lot of writing done in chunks! we hold each other accountable for short check-ins (“ask me for a snip in 30 minutes”) which is super helpful when you’re stuck, because it kind of forces you to get Something down without worrying if it’s super polished and edited and perfect. if you’re writing on your own, something i’ve started doing lately is setting a 15 minute timer and just seeing how much i can get done in that time, and then setting another and doing it again (up until however much time you have to write that day). i’ve found that the artificial deadline helps break the monotony of sitting in front of your computer for Hours on end with nothing to show for it bc TRUST we’ve all been there and it sucks so bad 😔✊

this got super long so i apologize but i hope at least a little bit of it was helpful! it definitely helps that we are constantly feeding into each other (i.e: having brainrot) and offering inspiration and advice, which does wonders for creative flow tbh. we’re definitely not cranking these chapters out as quickly as people might seem to think — thea started chapter four, which won’t be posted for about a month, maybe a week or two ago. i just started chapter 5 — about 6 weeks away — yesterday lol so we do take our time! don’t be scared by the giant chapters, we just had a lot of content we wanted to include in each one and are in too deep to take anything out 🥳🥳 thank you for the question! good luck with your writing we believe in you 🫡

[bumblesimagines]

do you have any wip for Jackie Taylor by chance? I recently started watching Yellowjackets because of my huge crush on Ella Purnell, I loved her performance of Lucy Maclean in Fallout so I’m starting to slowly go through all her filmography.

!!! SPOILERS FOR YELLOWJACKET BELOW !!!!

I’m on the second season, Natalie and Lottie are single-handedly are keeping me from abandoning the show. Since the show took inspiration from what happened in 1972 with the Uruguayan rugby team, I’m more invested in the 1996 timeline of events than what we see in happening 2021.

My heart broke at the way Jackie Taylor died, out in the cold and alone. I’m a certified Shauna hater and a Jackie apologist (is that the right term). I already knew from the very beginning that she wouldn’t make it out of the wilderness, but I expected her death to be more intentional I guess you could say? (…murder is what I mean) So for Jackie to die after rightfully calling everyone out, ugh makes my blood boil in both anger and sorrow. Poor baby deserved better.

Then there’s Natalie who can’t ever catch a damn break! I could rant about this until you clock me in the face out of irritation I swear.

Anyways have a good day honey, don’t know what time zone you’re in but it’s morning down here in California. Take breaks, drink water, eat and sleep well.

I definitely understand! I think it's just inherently a little more interesting to see the past then present because we see what they've become and want to know why/how/when it happened but also because they're trapped in this situation that has you on the edge of your seat vs present day where they're safe and home.

In my opinion, Natalie and Lottie are the most interesting but all the other characters have their complexities and such that make them compelling. I would say I'm a little biased toward Shauna simply because I love Melanie Lynskey but I definitely understand your POV!

Right now I don't have any Yellowjackets works in my drafts 😔 I've got some really old wips for other fandoms but most of the recent ones are for HOTD and one for Euphoria. I'll definitely think of writing for the Yellowjackets though!

Oh! And I actually started watching Fallout a while ago! I literally made a (Y/N)/Character for it halfway through ep 1 cause I'm insane like that. I have to get around to finishing it.

[hpowellsmith]

December Progress Report #2

This fortnight I've been working on Honor Bound Chapter 7, and have finished off the Royal Affairs expanded epilogue! The epilogue is going off to the copyeditor as we speak. I expect it to be released early next year so keep your eyes out for it - I'm really looking forward to people getting to revisit the world and characters of Royal Affairs once again.

I finished the draft of Chapter 7 and did some retroactive tweaks to earlier chapters once I'd done that. I posted about this elsewhere too:

Among other things, I’m feeling the need to go back to earlier chapters and add in bit-part named characters so that when I then put them in peril, which I’m currently doing, the player goes “uh oh, hope that person doesn’t get eaten by crocodiles!” or “oh thank goodness, those crocodiles know what they’re doing”, rather than “who? am I meant to know who this crocodile-victim is?” But I also want to get through the chapter, so a lot of it is a step up from placeholder text before I figure out who exactly the crocodiles* are menacing and how to make the player care about it. *there are no crocodiles, but I wish there were.

And I've done some work on planning Chapter 8 too. That is very much a work-in-progress as I'm very tired by this time of year and am very much in need of a break.

Honor Bound current wordcount: 282063

Honor Bound's fortnight wordcount: 9642

Honor Bound current average playthrough: 69298

Best of luck to everyone over the festive season! It can be a hard time for a lot of reasons, but I hope for the comfort and joy you deserve.

[dragonsoftheeast]

i was tagged by @stannisfactions! You're so cool, thanks for thinking of me.

How many works do you have on AO3?

29. I really wanna bring it up to an even 30 tho.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

220,728

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Hotd right now, though sometimes I think about adding more to Glory and Gore, my vikings AU

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Fire Made Flesh, Colors in the Night Sky, Millenia, second son, not born but raised

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

I try to! Sometimes I take a while, but I'm always ready to talk about my stories! And I love to hide loads of internal references and wordplay in what I write, so when people pick up on them, I get so excited! I also like to hear how people are thinking about characters and if anything's affected them!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Definitely Heart Strings gah. Fire Made Flesh may rival it when it's done tho, since it still is the story of the Dance.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

deserving has a pretty happy ending, I think- more satisfying than the canon one, if I do say so myself.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

A couple times, all on Helaemond fics. But that's what you get in such a big fandom, I'd never written for such a conflict heavy fandom before.

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

Not really. I'm not really comfortable doing that.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I've not written a crossover yet- however, I do have a Pacific Rim HoTD fusion somewhere in drafts.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Honestly not sure. This relates to the next question, but I once got asked about a translation and then never heard back so I ended up wondering if it got stolen.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Hopefully, I got Glory and Gore translated into Russian! From the question above.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

No- tbh I'm not sure I would be good at it. I'm open to trying, though, and I'm always willing to share ideas.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

I've never written for them, only a poem in high school, but Hector and Andromache from the Iliad. I've just read the Emily Wilson translation and...they hurt me but I've always loved them.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Probably Millennia. I had such plans for them, but TVD burned bright and fast as a fandom for me.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I love my writing voice, I think I change my style up a lot depending on the piece itself, but I always have to like the rhythm of it in my head before I'm good with it. I think I'm fairly good at worldbuilding too, though of course with that some things are weighed with more interest than others.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Probably increasing tension. I always wanna jump into the resolution and the confrontation! But then I'm like, noooo I gotta provide context and I have to work backwards. ugh.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Anyone who's read me probably knows I love to do it! Only conlangs though, with a natural language that's a little beyond me since there is an actual sense of what "feels right." But I love me some HV dialogue, it gives me such a cool

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Percy Jackson!

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Right now it's a tie between dropping glasses just to hear them break and delicate in every way but one. They're not my epics but I think I just wrote some of my most beautiful language in them.

Some of you guys might have done this already but I'll tag @emilykaldwen, @carladuquette (I think you've returned to fic!), @volvaaslaug, @lavandorhaze, @qyburnsghost, @appletreeduty

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

copying anon over here because i went to save the ask to my drafts and tumblr sent it directly to the shadow realm, welp:

I dug through your rambles about Hermes, so I'm looking forward to thoughts on Erich with the ancient world's everything lol ~

ahhhh thank you, i'm glad you've enjoyed my rambles so far!! i've been taking the second half of the pandaemonium arc more slowly, partly because i'm been Out of It the last few days and partly because the direction the plotline with erich and lahabrea has taken a turn for has been leaving a really bad taste in my mouth. i've been making my way through it, though, and percolating Deeply on the He and how he and pandaemonium as a whole fit into all this. spoiler alert i love him even more now

(on the one hand, it finally helped me articulate some points that imo make or break an 'abusive parent sees the error of their ways and apologizes up and down and swears to do better, and both that and the context in which the abuse happened leave their victim feeling conflicted about it' arc. so there's that! on the other hand it, uh. it did so by very much being the goofus here lmao, and erich deserved better.)

(the way the whole thing is played off is also just, deeply deeply misogynistic. athena is top-tier nastywoman and i love her for it, and 'mothers--in particular white women, especially to their children of color--can be shitty and predatory and abusive and are accountable for it full stop,' is great abuse rep but fucking WOWZERS)

(which like, i will say that the overtones are not at all lost on me that athena repeatedly goes out of her way to prey on, abuse, and violate not just men of color but black men; dehumanizes them and treats them and their bodies as her property; and is strongly implied to have sexually abused erich in particular. and how the one who gets the brunt of it is her biracial, very VERY not white-passing son, who she isolated from the black side of his family to do whatever she wanted with. it is insanely fucking refreshing to see that shit not cushioned at ALL, and it really sucks that that had to come bundled in with the abuse apologia and misogyny.)

(i am also realizing that this is one of the reasons erich whitewashing, and how common it is in the fandom as well as official art, bothers me so much beyond the obvious. while it's uncertain how much of it was intentional, his narrative evokes not just real-world racism but colorism, and a specific brand of it and how it intersects with abuse. even if just on a doylist level erich was abused for being as dark-skinned as he is, and erasing that is even shittier than your run-of-the-mill whitewashing.)

(anyway. ANYWAY. anyway. all that is a post of its own and i haven't even gotten to the parts about ancient society yet. you see what i mean by having a lot of thoughts about him lmao)

i'm hoping to finish the last leg of the questline tonight so i can start fully putting my thoughts together because god there is SO MUCH, and i'm excited even if i foresee having to grit my teeth through the rest of the moments between him and lahabrea lmao