#I just linked the wattpad because it's the most aesthetic

[mossyfernhugger]

𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊

[\ˈhēlēəˌfīl\] 𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒏

1.  a𝚗 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚛 𝚊��𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.

synonyms:

𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙;   𝙸𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙰𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘;   𝚊 𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚋𝚢𝚎

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Lia's Writers and Blog Recommendations

Hi there lovelies! Lia here and I'd love to share the some creators that have so far been feeding me with amazing content and I'd love for you and them to know how I feel about their works so there is a bit of commentary (feel free to ignore if you're only here for recs). They are all from different fandoms and I genuinely love their works. I am not here to hate on anyone at all, simply here to bring attention to those creators I find worth reading. In fact I actually don't do negative commentary. (If I do, it's probably towards my life 😭)

This will be constantly edited if I find more creators that I loved within each fandoms. I'm sorry to all the creators I've probably bothered with this notification, if you want to be taken off this list then I will respect that and do so :))

I will respectively use the pronouns these people have provided in their bios and if they do not have it in their bios then I'll simply use they/them <3

To all tagged creators, y'all are amazing and so fucking underrated :3

CoD Creators

@frogchiro - This creator is more likely known for the absolutely scrumptious CoD hybrid AUs. MY GOD EVERY SINGLE ONE OF HER AUs ARE JUST ON ANOTHER LEVEL. Ranging from Hacker girl!Reader to Baracks Bunny!Reader. (Octo König and Coyote Graves are personal faves of mine) (Her nsfw content is the most toe curling shit I've ever read)

@ghouljams - This creator is another known for their CoD AUs, only this time you may know them as the one who wrote the Cowboy and Medieval AUs. This person and @frogchiro actually got their inboxes mixed up a few times I believe, they're both really just that good, I clearly need pointers. (I honestly don't have much words because god do I eat their content up)

@wishesforyouo (previous account being: @puff0o0) - This lovely creator makes short but sweet CoD content, you may recognize her as the person who made the popular self-aware CoD AU. Definitely my cup of tea because I really like short reads from time to time. (Miss this AU, sweetie <3)

@blingblong55 - This creator loves to make me cry, idk why. I love her though, her nsfw content is also freaking delicious I can't even.

@xo-cod - This creator, I can't even begin. I just love their writing style, it's sweet, quite short and worth the read. (We also have the same name)

@lunarw0rks - This creator makes me wanna bang my head on a table with how good their Ghost content is.

@ceilidho - This creator I can't even begin to describe how fucking delicious the Ghost content is, idgaf if it's short (IT'S PERFECT). Like my god, how'd y'all come up with content that you do. I think she captures Ghost quite well in her writing.

@mistydeyes - This creator, my fucking god. Her content is so good especially the requests she gets. The overall vibe of her writing gives a specific aesthetic that I love so much and honestly their series is worth the freaking read. Series mentioned here, the writing style is so unique but captures the characters perfectly.

@wordstome - This creator made the GREATEST FUCKING FRIENDS TO LOVERS KÖNIG FANFIC I HAVE EVER READ. It was all just so perfect, the length, the pacing and the writing style is fucking incredible. God where'd y'all get the talent to write this, here's the link to said fanfic because I do not gatekeep.

@multifandomimagin3s - This creator and the amount of Rudy content, I AM EATING IT UP. What do y'all feed yourselves to write with this amount of quality? Like their depiction of Rudy (and of course the others) is just Chef's kiss. (Also idk why but this person seems familiar since I remember someone in Wattpad a long time ago who has the same user)

@lxvvie - This creator creates the best fucking characterization I've ever read, LIKE HELLO?! Horangi is so accurate and her version of König is too. I love it, I'm eating her content up.

@rustic-guitar-notes - This creator I wanted tag this Creator so bad on this creator list because I feel like they're so underappreciated and their works are so good, LIKE IT'S ALWAYS THE UNDERAPPRECIATED WORKS THAT ARE SO GOOD THEY MAKE YOU FEEL WHAT YOU NEED AND WANT TO FEEL.

@icarustypicalfall - This creator is mutuals with almost every single one of my fave mutuals and that's how I found them. MY GOD THE RUDY AND ALEJANDRO CONTENT?? I'M EATING THAT SHIT UP.

@skeletalgoats - This creator IS SO FREAKING UNDERATED, I FOUND MYSELF BINGING THIER WORKS AND IT IS SO GOOD AND YOU KNOW WHAT'S THE BEST THING? THEY HAVE MULTIPLE WORKS ON ROACH. Istg y'all, WE NEED MORE OF ROACH.

@ghosts-cyphera - This creator, HELLO MISS MA'AM? THE PS!GHOST AU?!?! SHE GOT ME THINKING OF IT ALL THE TIME NOW LIKE WHAT DOES SHE PUT IN HER WRITING TO MAKE IT SO GOOD. First of all I'm in love with her version of Ghost because he's just so fucking caring despite the sexual themes, SHE MANAGED TO MAKE A PORNSTAR AU WITH DOMESTIC AND ROMANTIC ASPECTS WITHOUT MAKING IT FEEL SHALLOW AND SUPERFICIAL, LIKE HOW? What kind of food are y'all eating to create the content you guys feed us readers with?

@halcyone-of-the-sea - This creator has their own aesthetic and vibe when it comes to the writing. OMG I CAN'T EVEN BEGIN WITH THE WRITING STYLE, IT'S SO GOOD AND DETAILED. NOT MENTION SHE HAS QUITE A LOT OF POPULAR WORKS THAT I BINGED LIKE THERE WAS NO TOMORROW.

@azereus - This creator, I CAN'T EVEN LIKE WHY SO CRIMINALLY UNDERATED? THEIR WRITING IS LITERALLY SO GOOD AND DESERVES SO MUCH BETTER THAN THE ATTENTION IT'S GETTING. NOT ONLY THAT BUT I'VE READ THEIR WORK OVER AND OVER AGAIN.

@peachesofteal - This creator, OH MY FUCKING GOD, THE WRITING IS A GODSEND. I FINISHED HER WHOLE SERIES "LIGHT ON" IN LESS THAN AN HOUR AND NOW I'M CRAVING MORE. HOLY SHIT IT WAS SO FUCKING GOOD. "MY GIRLS"?!?! GOT ME SO BAD, MY FUCKING HEART IS EXPLODING.

@drop-cherries - this creator brought me back on this list. You all must be saying "Lia you haven't updated this is so long, it must be some scrumptious ass work you've seen". DAMN WELL IT'S GOOD, got me in my feels and everything, needed that domestic life with Simon after so much nsfw content, I need breaks too y'all. Although I did like that one nsfw post earlier, if you saw that, no you didn't :). They are so criminally underrated too so go check them out, from one creator to another, they seem so freaking talented and I love using my platform to help you guys reach other creators too, who hardly get enough attention for something they worked hard on :>

@lostintransist - Another creator who has yet again brought me back to this list. Holy shit, if the word underrated is a creator, it's them. First of all, I NEED MORE UPDATES OF THE SEAMSTRESS AND THIS BUNNY BITES SERIES. It's written so freaking good like what. I get having a short attention span and not wanting to read long fics but this one.. this one you won't even be bored for a second. It's the type of fics you'd want to lose yourself in, I found myself finishing the bunny series in less than an hour, then left to starve for more. Edit: HELLO?! GET YOU A CONSISTENT AUTHOR, LITERALLY I AM OBSESSED WITH THE "Secrets are for grown ups" series that I wish I would've thought of it myself because I love angst so much (THEY BETTER NOT TOUCH THOSE KIDS, THEY'RE MINE!)

@sunni-stuff - Another amazing creator who sparked me up with their series, I don't know what is up with me lately but I am loving single mom!Reader so much. To whomever is planning on checking her out, YOU ARE IN FOR A TREAT. Where'd y'all get talent like this honestly? Like the amount of anticipation it takes to hook me in is a lot because of how short my attention span is AND MY GOD, ADIRA IS LIKE THE DAUGHTER I'VE NEVER HAD. I can just relate so much to the reader, I've always imagined myself working in a daycare too because I adore babies and kids. Her and @lostintransist have me on a leash fr.

TLOU Creators

@elliesbelle - This creator is top of this list for a reason, their content is the most scrumptious, drama-filled fanfics I have ever read. And yes I'm referring to their series "Nobody Compares To You". I can't even begin to say how much I love this creator, if I wasn't broke then I'd would've already tipped them. I personally think she captures Ellie's personality well. I appreciate a writer who implements shit that happen in her life into her stories. (Despite that, the amount of things happening in their love life is also some complicated shit that I love hearing updates from. Love ya belle <3) Me reading the belle's fanfic at 3am knowing damn well I have school the next day

@lovelettersfromluna - This creator is another amazing writer and holy hell are her works so good, like the length and writing style is just perfect. It's so compact yet it's not too long, add me on your ma'am taglist, please 🥺 <3

@seattlesellie - This creator, I just love her writing style especially with the knight!Ellie fic. Not to mention all the Abby content <3

@callmelola111 - This creator is another person to go to when looking for top tier Ellie fanfics, definitely worth the read on her works.

@clemellie - This creator AND WRITING TLOU SMUT IS A MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN OH MY GOD, first of all, the characterization of both Ellie and Abby are so top tier then there's the ungodly toe curling smut. She is worth the fucking read every time.

@papipedroo - This creator has made a a series on Joel Miller x Reader angst AND I CAN'T EVEN BEGIN TO SAY HOW GOOD IT WAS. THEY GOT ME CRYING AT 7 IN THE MORNING. I also adore the writing style and pacing, I genuinely could not wait for the next part because I NEED Joel to grovel. I DON'T EVEN CRUSH ON JOEL MILLER AND THEY GOT ME HOOKED SO BAD.

[o7k5a8m9i]

~ HiKuro Week!~ 💜🧡 Nov 7th - 14th

{ Hi y'all so I decided to Host HiKuro Week in November 💙 now the reason for this is because October is Full of art challenges and stuff like: Inktober, Kinktober, Cringetober, Shiptober, Goretober ect! so I hope you understand! also I've NEVER hosted a event before so bare with me!💮 ok enjoy! ⚠️🌹Please read FULL post!🌹⚠️

✨🌸 **HiKuro Week**✨🌸

**DATES** November 7th — November 14th

Also I'm really sorry y'all! another thing is Hiei x Kurama & Hiei x Botan both have weeks so before you start hating on me I think Hiei x Mukuro need a Week!!💜🧡 And even if we get 5 people or 50 I'm so greatful for any! & Art/Fanfiction/Vids/Songs/Tribute posts, all forms of are support is welcomed!

⚠️💛ALSO you can Join for ALL 7 days or just one, just have fun!(◍•ᴗ•◍)❤💛⚠️

{× Prompt list ×}

Also Please feel free to to make up Your own prompts! these are just here if you have no ideas! so please feel free to get Creative!(◍•ᴗ•◍) (I put "/" in between the prompts so you have more then one choice♥)⬇️

Day 1: Mukuro meets Yukina/Family~

Day 2: Sleeping together/Lullaby~

Day 3: Animal/Your AU~

Day 4: Sweet fluff/OOC~ (I need some happy fluff!😭💙)

Day 5: Kiss/Wedding~

Day 6: Grunge aesthetic/TV Girl~

Day 7: Future/Free Spot~ (Do whatever you want!🧡💜)

Late Submissions are Allowed! please just have them all turned in by the end of November!🎐

⚠️ Apps Such as: Youtube, Twitter, Wattpad, Fanfiction.Net, AO3, Pixiv, ect are Fine if you wanna post your Art/Fanfic or whatever on! but PLEASE! Post it on Tumblr as well!! Or Post a link to it! so we can see it💖⚠️

If your submission is NSFW please tag it as such~

~Please use Tags such as~•°•° Hiei x Mukuro/ HiKuro/ HiMuku/ HiKuro Week/ 💜🧡/ Mukuro/ Hiei/ YYH.

tagging all of you who I know voted! [@starsv3 @thelovelyghostwriter @grezydragonlady @fighting-these-demons @kuramaminamino @gr8stoneddragon @willow-boop @theconjurervfx @spacedustpan]

The most important thing is To have fun so Please enjoy! I'm so excited 🌷 PLEASE reblog🥺💞

[cryptidghostgirl]

Heyy :)))

any writing tips for beginners?

First off, can I just say, it is genuinely such an honor to get asked this question? It makes me so happy.

The biggest thing I would recommend for beginners is just to write. The more you write, the more used to it you get. I know that doesn't sound like very productive advice, but it is the truth. I have been writing fics since I was twelve and I am twenty one now. My first fics were shit. One of my earliest ones (its a BSD Akutagawa x Reader fic called Project X I started when the show first came out back in 2016 and finished in 2022 that is still up on my wattpad, which is linked in my pinned post, if you want proof I am not lying) is genuine shit, but I put a lot of passion and a lot of time into it (to the point that if you read the book, you watch me learn how to write). It was the practice and time spent that did the trick. So write and write and write. You don't have to post it anywhere or show it to anyone until you feel like you are ready (or at all). The more you do it, the more everything will fall into place.

The second thing I would recommend is to write the stories that you want to read, whether fanfiction or not. You have to be invested in whatever you're making in order for it to work. If you don't care, you wont put the effort in. You wont take the time for it. The only reason I started writing in the first place was because I would read fic after fic and I never saw anyone else putting the ideas I had on to paper (this actually lead to me starting a mini trend in the BSD fic community on wattpad lol). This will also help, if you are putting your work out into the world in some way, with the idea of reward. Whether through notes or readers or whatever, as long as you like what you are writing and you want to read what you are making, it is worth it and it is enough.

Third is to read. One of the ways I developed my own writing style was by taking note of the things I liked about other peoples writing styles (doesn't matter whom. I take a lot of the way I write from poets and authors like Annie Dillard and Terry Pratchett as well as other fic writers). So much of writing is about aesthetics and personal preference. Once I knew what I defined as 'good writing,' I could figure out how to morph my own work into something I deemed 'good.' This also counts for reading the things you yourself have written. I go back and re-read and edit my own work all the fucking time, both out of an enjoyment for the stories I create and in an effort to make them better. The best thing you can do is to read your work out loud. Listen to what you change when you read it out loud, what sounds odd or uncomfortable, where there are gaps. It really helped me when I first started writing fics almost ten years ago, and it still helps me now.

This is a weird one, but when you're writing about emotions, try to feel the emotion yourself. Think about what something like fear does to a person. Picture the situation you are writing and take the time to think about the ways in which you personally, or your character, would react to it. Writing reactions, body movements, things like that, has always been the most difficult for me, especially when its in-between dialogue and not just big blocks of text. Taking a moment and closing my eyes, feeling the shiver down my spine or the burst of sudden joy, really helps pin down the ideas and figure out how to describe them.

Also, if you know other languages, think about the things you like about the way those function and how you can incorporate that into your work. A lot of the way I structure sentences comes from ancient Greek, for example, with my usage of participles and timing. It doesn't have to be an ancient language though! And it doesn't even really have to be another language. All that matters is that you are actively thinking about the way the words interact with one another and what is pleasing to you. English is such a flexible and fun thing, there is so much meaning in every word and if you want to, it can be really fun to play around with. (I am a philologist. I am sorry for the little rant.)

That being said, it is important that you understand the grammar of the language you are writing in. This might just be a personal thing, but incorrect grammar tends to really bug me. Once you know the rules, they are easier to follow and it makes a huge difference. Also, incorporating techniques like varied sentence length/structure and literary devices like metaphor, allusion, ekphrasis, and simile can really make a piece more enjoyable for a perspective reader (whether the reader is yourself or someone else.)

Write what you know, write what you love, write what you want, write what you need, write. Don't worry about it being 'good enough,' if it is on the paper it is good enough. The hardest part is starting. Once you've got that under your belt, anything is possible.

Now that this post is almost excessively long, I am gonna make myself stop. I really hope at least some of this made sense and that you find it helpful.

<3 <3

[sylviareviar]

🎶✨️when you get this, put 5 songs you actually listen to, then publish. Send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers 🎶✨️

I don't feel like finding ten followers and copy-pasting this, but I'll definitely answer this ask!

Sommerfagel by Wintergatan

Recently I've been listening to an artist called The Kiffness. Highly recommend, they have some really funny and really cool bops. My personal favorite is Kookie Kookie, which is a collab with a cockatiel that he turns into a dance club song. It's really funny and really cute.

I've also come back around to listening to ParagonX94 on YouTube, and one of my personal favorites of theirs is Chaoz Fantasy (Although I'm pretty sure that's like their most famous one; I just like it because it sounds like an anime battle).

I also like the battle theme they gave Paul in the anime, so I listen to that and other Pokemon music.

Of course we all know I love Hero by Faouzia, too.

Aside from general rock remixes of video game music, I also listen to Waterflame a little more recently. I keep listening to Glorious Morning 2, wondering if it would suit Sylvia as a battle theme/duel theme.

I've been diving into my older hyperfixations of music choice because I've been in a Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's phase lately, so I keep thinking listening to 2010s or 2000s music would give me some inspiration for what I think would fit the aesthetic of 3rd gen Yu-Gi-Oh!. I realize I say this while also in the same breath saying Sylvia mains Weather Painters (modified to be a Fusion Deck rather than a Link deck) but it's also not the verse I'm the most proud of. It's on my RP blog because I'm addicted to it, but I never expect anyone to indulge in my stupid little fantasies. Most of Sylvia's Yu-Gi-Oh! information is in my Wattpad, where I believe it belongs.

[goldenangelbloodcastiel]

Oh! First one that comes to mind is Sylus and it’s by @chaoslovesmisery ! They have an 8part fic so far that is about F!Mephisto Shifter x Sylus, MC is stil included but not the love of I’m following it along correctly..😅 I’ve linked their wattpad as well but they post the updates here too!

https://www.wattpad.com/user/ChaosLovesMisery?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_profile&wp_page=user_details&wp_uname=SisterKat

***

My other love that writes for the LADS is @janumun and they have some really good ones! Some of their works are based off cards and others are whatever they happen to envision! They’re very fun to talk to and have really been a great introduction into the fandom for me! 💕

***

@hitoshitoshi Has wonderful SFW and NSFW F!Reader stories for all the fans. They have a few fics for each of our LADS men, feel free to indulge!

***

@xvysarene Makes F!Reader fics and I believe they have some Headcanons too! They’ve written at least one story for each man and have a very pretty aesthetic too their writing 😍!

***

These are just a few of my fav writers and fellow LADS fans, (I am still deep-diving into their writing 🙈) and there are plenty more out there!

I hope this helps but I’m not sure if your looking for fics that are tagged F!Reader xLADS and not MC, but still might follow certain story points/cards or if you’re wanting entirely new, almost OC characters. Either way, I hope you find what you’re looking for!

I feel like, for the most part, the fandom is still pretty new and finding our way around. But a lot of time it’s just digging and waiting on new fics to come out! I hope you find some you enjoy and please, share if you feel like it 😉. Have a good read!

***

Ugh how DARE I forget to add @loveanddeepthroat because their fics and HCs I literally CANNOT get enough of & can’t stop reblogging!

Also, everytime I see their name I giggle cuz I love it so much. ♥️ they are a GEM (ty for following me lovely 👉🏻👈🏻)

Does anyone knkw where i can find or has links to stories involving Sylus or Zayne or Rafayel x Reader where Reader is not MC?? im finding it so rare on ao3 and tumblr that it breaks my heart💔

[january31st]

...Who have you become? (Pt2)

Cruella (2021) x reader

A/N: Angst, it’s all angst, and I would love to leave this on a bitter terrible ending because i’m an agent of chaos, but i won’t be doing that to you yet <3 as for the request…. I may or may not have gone completely off the tracks, the story just brought me here.

i haven't really had the patience to proofread this (it would take even longer to post, so there's that) forgive me for repeating some stuff or just inconsistencies.

In my head the inside of Hell Hall has mixed together with the rooms from The Favourite, it’s giving royaltycore yall.

On a more personal note, I did test positive for Covid, that is also why I was able to upload at all. My symptoms aren’t bad at all, I’ve had worse colds, thank goodness, guess I just have a couple of days to clear my mind a bit, since I can’t really study with this sick brain.

Warnings: Homophobia! Sexism. Alcohol and drug abuse.

|| Masterlist || In coming and going (Part 1) || Wattpad Link || AO3 Link ||

~5800 words

Someone else. That was who you’d become. Both of you. Though you didn’t really know her part of things until the day you met, yet again. And it was another one of those days, impossible to forget. But this wasn’t like the first reencounter, it had a bitter taste to it.

You knew who she was, there was no mistaking it, you knew her hair colour from childhood and no one else would dare to make a brand quite the way she did. You had read a couple magazines while you were away, sitting in your apartment in Paris, your cup of tea cold and forgotten as your mascara ran down your face. She made it, she had her brand and you knew this was only the beginning.

Cruella. You wondered why she went for that name her mum used to say to her, the one part of her she had to avoid. It was just impossible to imagine that she could have changed who she was, though it didn’t surprise you to imagine that life had its ways of damaging even the kindest of people. That’s why it was so shocking to come face to face with her, to have her treat you this way at first.

And it was fair that she didn’t recognize you, but it didn’t hurt any less. Almost a decade had passed. Your hair was now dyed too, the stark opposite of its natural colour. Your clothes were that of a grown up for the times, a high-society lady, just like the ones you’d talk shit about. You were forced to change who you were completely, even the way you walked and the way you talked, all of your liveliness was gone, replaced by a cold demeanour, a lack of response to show you didn’t care. That was who you had to become to survive.

Christian Dior. A name that made people think about fashion, about perfumes, about high society and expensive things. To you that name had meant so much more. He was not only your boss, but he saved you.

You took it very seriously when you had to leave, you couldn’t bear to put them in danger, they were the people you would always love the most. So you ran away, pretty far away for a kid. You found yourself crossing the way to Europe, not even knowing when you were in what country, just roaming around clueless, lost and afraid. The perfect recipe for disaster.

In Germany there was a bar that made you think of your Estella, the black and white decorations, the red details and the general punk aesthetic. In your state, that was the only place where you felt remotely safe.

Not that a bar is a particularly safe place at all, let alone for a teenager. But you begged to work there, barely even knowing how to speak the language, and they took pity on you.

At first it was just that, a job, a place to stay. But eventually all the alcohol around you made you cave in, and since you didn’t know any better, and no one cared to help you, it became your companion. That was when things started getting blurry. Drunk nights, drunk days, and eventually they fired you. You couldn’t stand being sober. It made you think about her, about the way you left, about the way she felt.

And with it being the transition between 60s and 70s, the drugs on the streets were all but normal, the easiest thing to find and use, no one would bat an eye, and no one cared that you were always angry and that all you felt was guilt. You stayed on the move, travelling from high to high, trying everything and anything, just as long as she was out of your mind. The Netherlands, Luxemburg, Belgium, Switzerland, you’d been as far as Hungary.

An overdose was never a worry for you. You didn’t really care anymore. And with the tolerance you’d built you started believing that it was just something that would never happen to you.

Until you found yourself in northern France, in some exclusive bar that you somehow got yourself into, having a fashion argument with some pompous asshole about how the A line conveyed an objective message, as did any fashion choice. You had gotten so mad that you had to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and take an excessive dose of something that you couldn’t even recall the name of. That, along with the fact that you were already high off your mind before, resulted in that big overdose you had to know was coming. To your luck, there was someone in that bar that had kept his eye on you, his attention caught by your loud arguing. That was your soon to be boss.

He went into the men’s washroom just as you were coming out, his attention landing on you again as you hit the floor, unconscious already.

And from then on he took care of you, he was moved by the air of tragedy that clung around you, he became determined to “fix” you. A year or so had passed and you were completely clean, working for him. At first it was hard, you didn’t agree with any of what he thought, his mindset felt all backwards, but soon you learned to pretend to agree with him, you learned to keep your mouth shut, because your opinions only mattered when it came to fabrics and colours.

You owed him your life, it was all you could do to shut the fuck up and be grateful, he kept telling you. He had put up with your outbursts, making you believe they were childish, telling you that when you grew up you’d learn to behave. And you sure did. Not because it was true, but because that was how he manipulated you to act. To be the face of what he believed in, to be the example of his brand, a perfectly beautiful and composed lady, the image of true femininity according to him. You had to comply, because that was the only way you’d survive, that was what you believed.

And you did put up with it, until he struck you on your last nerve. From the second you saw her in that magazine you wanted to fly back and congratulate her, run away from him and stay close to her, tell her everything you had to say, and then, only then would everything be alright. But when he made that supid comment, you just waited until the end of the day to pack your things and buy the tickets.

“Lesbians are the very thing corrupting our society. If it weren’t for those brutes then our women would remember that they belong at home, serving their husbands gracefully. But now that the lesbians are out there, they keep convincing girls that being masculine and working men’s jobs is an appropriate goal.” Was what he said, the words flowing from him with that coolness of someone who just thinks they’re right all the time. This along with the comments on Cruella’s brand, it infuriated you. You knew he was scared of her, you knew she would continue to overshadow him, because that was who she was, that was your girl. Along with the magazines saying that was her plan, to run Dior out of business. And in knowing him, you also knew he was planning something to sabotage her instead, make a scandal. You’d overheard him more than once, but though he had no idea that you knew her, he knew her style was your favourite, he knew that was who you were when he “saved” you, so he didn’t trust you to know his plans.

And so at last you left, you flew back to her. Drunk on the idea that not even time could change what you had.

It was so dumb of you, proving yet again how naive you could be, that you didn’t expect her to welcome you with anything but open arms. So when you asked to see her, and when she treated you with nothing but disdain, your soul was ripped to pieces yet again.

“You must be mistaken, this is no longer the Baroness's kingdom. This is no place for you, precious. If you think you’re getting a job with me you should return to wherever you’re from.”

It was too late to prepare, but you should have expected it. You looked different, you dressed in the staple Dior style, hell, even your accent had changed, sounded like you weren’t from one country in specific, just a vague foreignness. It took you a little too long to react to her, you froze for a second too long, looking at the sketches she had up on a wall. Her perfume was making you dizzy, it was still her, but now instead of the fruit notes, it was just intoxicatingly sweet. You could smell her before you got in the room and long after you left.

“Darling.” she said, a fake niceness wrapping around her words, and you turned to her again, to those eyes you had missed more than you could have imagined to be possible.

“Please leave, I’m sure you remember the wa-”

“It’s me.” You meant to exclaim, but instead of confident, the statement came out sounding something like disappointment. Because yes, it was you, but right then it wasn’t her you.

She looked at you with a face you’d never seen on her, she looked confused but also annoyed at you, silently asking for you to be quick with your explanation.

“I’m… “ Your chest tightened, remembering your actual name, you had to change it, to leave the past behind, it was coming to you all at once. But yet again, she misread your uneasiness.

“Well Darling if you can’t even remember your name what do you suppose I must do with you?” she said, with that fake tone again, and that was enough to make the feelings spill out of you.

“Estella! What the fuck, it’s me, Y/N! I literally just got out of a goddamn plane and ran here to talk to you and you treat me like this?” you almost screamed, and her acting all went away, her expression changing completely, but you were already too angry to shut up. “I’ve been working for fucking Dior, he’s been making me nuts for years, and- and now that you have a brand! And you’re- well, of course you’re doing great- he’s plotting against you, I just know it. I had to come and warn you.” The fight came all out of you along with the last sentence, your face was stained with tears and you felt so, so tired. You leaned against a table and covered your face with your hands.

For a while that was all there was, your faint sniffles echoing around the tall room. She didn’t seem to move or say anything.

“You’re clearly very tired from your flight.” she said at last, almost mechanically “I’ll get someone to take you home. We’ll catch up later, I have loads of work”

Home? Did she say? What was home? You’d wanted nothing but to step on that warehouse again, feel that familiar smell and trace your fingers along the sketches she had up on the walls. But you knew better, you’d been paying close attention to any magazine that mentioned her name, and you knew that the building, your home, had burned to the ground.

Home. You clung to that word like it was the last bit of oxygen left in the universe. Where could that be? Did it even matter? Not really, you just knew home would be wherever she was, whether it was sweet and tender or just bitter and cold.

You didn’t even bother to check into a hotel, because all you cared about was seeing her. There was no second plan, nothing else you could do in case she had shut you off, but luckily she didn’t, not entirely at least.

After a while of her staring at her corkboard, there was a knock on the door and Cruella, with her back toward you and the source of the noise, answered “That’s your ride, Darling”

You grabbed the small travel handbag you’d brought, and impulsively lingered your gaze on her, waiting for her to turn around, tell you goodbye, but there was nothing. She was probably too caught up in your sudden appearance, but this harshness was new to you. So there you stood, rooted to the ground, petrified until a familiar voice broke your trance.

“Oi lady, I don’t got all day” he said when Wink started barking happily at your feet.

“Horace!” you exclaimed, and the shock of seeing him was too much to contain, your smile grew along with his hesitation.

But before he could guess that it was you, or you introduced yourself, Cruella, still supposedly focused on her work, said “Well our precious Y/N must be so tired from her flight, we should get her home right away.”

“Blimey!” he said when he understood what she said “Ah dear! I would have never thought it was you” he croaked as he met your hug halfway.

“I know, can you believe this? It’s because I lost the angle. But you haven’t changed a thing, just as charming as always” you answered before the both of you said your “see ya” to Cruella and left.

“I can’t wait to see the face on old Jasper! He’ll never see it coming” he said, grabbing your suitcase for you.

☽◯☾

You hadn’t even been paying attention to the road, with all the questions the both of you had, but soon enough you realised that the wheels were on gravel now, and you looked up to see the gateway and it’s big letters.

It all hit you at once, the things you’d read about the baroness, and the night of the charity ball. It all seemed confusing to you in the papers, a girl was pushed off a cliff, and in some papers her name was listed as Estella, the baroness's daughter. You thought maybe they’d confused Cruella’s real name, since she did her big entrance and claimed to have been trusted with the inheritance, because you didn’t know that Estella was a name she was hiding from people.

But as quick as your thoughts came in, they were washed away when you saw Jasper at the door, waiting for Horace.

“Okay don’t tell him a thing, let’s see if he notices” he told you before the car stopped. He went to the back to grab your things as you walked toward Jasper. You didn’t miss the way he studied you, probably intrigued that Cruella would have even agreed to talk to someone who dressed the way you did now.

“We don’t usually have guests stay over here, the boss must really-” you tripped on your feet and grabbed his already extended hand, cutting him off.

“Oh I’m sorry, it has been a lot of travelling.” you said, hiding your smirk as best as you could.

“No worries, of course, you must be tired Mrs…?”

“Ah Jasper, grab these while I put the car away” Horace interrupted as he shoved your bags into his hands, giving you the perfect opportunity to avoid telling him your name yet.

“Oh yes, so tired, I would just ask you to show me the corners of the house, just in case.” you said with an imposing manner.

“Well, of course.”

And following your request, he made a quick tour of the place, the main rooms that you could need to get into, all of them with high ceilings and windows that covered the walls, filling them with the gleam of golden-hour, which bounced off the metal decorations and rich woods.

At last he opened a door and gave you the key “This will be your room” he said, eyeing you curiously.

You looked around: the room was just perfect for you. On one side there was an enormous four poster bed and two open doors: one to a walk-in closet, and another to a spacious bathroom. On the other was a sort of “working space”, with a large table surrounded by walls that were covered in books, a small library just for you. In the middle was a living space, with a comfortable looking set of armchairs and sofa around a glass coffee table, each of them topped with cushions and a blanket in each. On the table was a tea tray ready to be consumed. Jasper left your things on the sofa.

As you took the room in awe he seemed just as impressed as you “Yeah, this room hasn't had anyone in it since Cruella’s gotten the place and changed things her way. I mean, I didn’t even think she would ever let anyone stay here, it’s very... “

“Personal” you said, still looking at the room.

“...Yeah. And her room is next door, there’s a passageway in between the books, I should just tell you.”

Before you knew what to answer, Horace came up behind the both of you. “Ah, M’lady, hope this old shoebox of a place suits ya needs!”

“It sure does my fair Gentleman” You answered, barely containing your laughter.

Jasper furrowed his brows further, the engines clearly turning hard in his head as he stared in between you. After a moment he started to turn around and said “I’ll leave you to rest, dinner should be around eight.” But before he could leave you asked him “Haven’t you forgotten anything?”

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned around very slowly. When he saw that you were holding his wrist watch in your hand, and had a mischievous smile on your face, a light seemed to turn on in his head.

“Is… is it really you?” he asked, and your only answer was a tight hug.

“I hadn’t done that in a long, long while, glad it still works, even on the person who taught me how to do it.” you said, and when both of you let go, he said “I must admit, it was very smooth, I didn’t notice it was gone at all.”

He put his hands on your shoulders, as if studying you, while a thousand questions stumbled from him. As summarised as you could, you told him why and how you got away, letting the details of the past years to be told over dinner, the three of you talking well into the night and well after the food was gone.

You wanted to wait for her to come back so all of you could talk, but they told you that she didn’t usually dine at home, was always too busy at work, putting fashion ahead of her basic needs, just like she always had.

However late or early it was, you were at last in your room, sitting on an armchair you’d pulled next to the window, letting yourself be bathed in moonlight while reading a random book, hoping it would make you fall asleep. You’d forgotten to bring pyjamas, so Jasper lended you one of his t-shirts and a pair of shorts, and at last, you did indeed feel at home, the lace and silk nightgowns forgotten in Paris, and your old self showing it’s colours for the first time in too long.

After a while the lines started blurring together, as you pulled the blanket taught around you, when there was a low squeak. The big, heavy door to the room had opened just a fraction, letting a white bit of curls peek in, and you squinted at them.

“Oh, you’re still up.” she half whispered.

“I suppose, not technically up, up” you answered, your voice scratchy from disuse. You tossed the blanket aside and stretched a bit.

When you opened your eyes you noticed that she was staring. “What?”

“Maybe you haven’t changed that much after all.” to which you answered with a giggle.

She stepped closer and paused again, looking at you as if trying to write down the differences, a warm silence settled around you.

Then in a swift motion, her hands grabbed your neck and her lips encapsulated yours, and all you could do was kiss her back. She let go to look at you, evaluate your expression, but you grabbed her lapels and pulled her back in, making her stumble and grab for the armchair, sitting on one of the arms, still above you.

“Oh I’ve missed yo-” you tried to say, but she just told you to shut up and went back to what she was doing, effectively silencing you.

Without breaking apart, you took off her jacket and started undoing her shirt when she stopped you.

“Let’s get somewhere comfier” she rasped, guiding you with your hands laced together. When you got to the edge of the bed, she pushed you into it, not skipping a beat before getting on top of you.

☽◯☾

A week and a half passed like this, Cruella staying at work for most of the day, your time consisting of wandering around Hell Hall or the occasional visit to House of De Vil, where you looked at people’s work or just sat in silence in Cruella’s office. She didn’t have much time to talk to you, always busy it seemed, but you had a feeling that that wasn’t all of it. The only thing she would say was something along the lines of how great destiny was to have put you in her path again, and whenever you tried to tell her about these years, about why you ran away and why you stayed away, she would cut you off and take the conversation elsewhere, or end it completely.

But there was always something off in her tone, and at night she would hold you so tight you thought you’d melt into her, and she would touch you with such fierceness, writing her own name all over you, just to make it clear how much she wanted you. No one could as much as look at you wrong, she would get jealous, possessive, like you were hers and hers only.

But eventually this got tiring for you, because you never had secrets between you, and now there was a very clear concrete wall, low enough that you could touch her, but not so you could really see much of her.

Now it was the two of you having dinner alone, the boys had eaten already. She looked calm enough, and her plate was nearly empty, so you tried to talk to her.

“Hey” you said, touching your hand to hers, to which she only answered with a look.

“We haven’t really talked much”

“What do you mean? We talk loads, what else would we talk about?” she said, playing dumb so you might drop it.

“Well, the first thing I talked about with the boys was why I left, and you don’t seem very interested in that”

“Why should I be? You’re here now, why dwell on the past?” she said while swirling her blood red wine in her cup.

“Because, you seem mad. I’ve spent all these years thinking how hurt and betrayed the three of you must have felt, how mad you must have been.”

“Oh, well I…” and she took a sip of her wine, looking into the bottom of the cup as if making sure that the notes she tasted were right.

“If you’ll just listen to me then I know you’ll understand that I had to do it”

“Had to? Oh Darling I know you didn’t have to, and I don’t care to know your excuses for running away from me.”

“I didn’t run away from y-” you said while she got up from the table.

“That is enough Y/N. I’m off to sleep now.”

“It’s barely 9 PM!”

“Work awaits.”

“Yeah right, and it didn’t await you for these past days?” you said, crossing your arms.

“Don’t act like this Y/N, it doesn’t suit you.”

You also got up and followed after her, into a corridor that led to the stairs and into your rooms.

“Look I know I hurt you guys and I don’t want you to have the wrong idea of things, can we just talk for a second?”

“About how you ran away from me and came back now that it was convenient for you?” she said, opening the door to her room. You took a step back. Noticing how she’d affected you, she took advantage of it and went on, still walking deeper into her room so that you had to follow her in to still hear her.

“Tell me, does your dear Christian not spoil you enough that you had to run to me? Because you just know that I'm better than him.” with the last sentence she turned to you, her long red nail pointing ahead of her. By now a strong itch was building in your throat, you blinked again and again to try to clear your vision.

“So you came back to leech off me.”

“Estell- “

“It’s not! Estella! You know it!” She screamed, making the tears pour at last.

“You know none of that is true- I haven’t asked a single thing from you.” you said, your voice small.

“Then maybe you’re spying for him! I think I just understood your game, you’re a double agent! You come here and strike right into my heart because you know I love you, you know you’ll be able to manipulate me, and then what, you ruin my brand and run away? Go back home as if nothing ever happened between us? You’re mine Y/N, it doesn't matter what you tell yourself, you can’t run from me again, you can’t betray me!”

“You’re not making any sense.” you said, and she only raised her eyebrows at you.

“I can’t figure out if you want me to leave or if you don’t? But I think that might be exactly what I’ll do. Cruella” you said with a mocking tone ”I’m flying home, I’m done with this.”

“Home?” She laughed, throwing her head back “Where is that? Is it in Paris, is that what you’ve told yourself? That home is the place farthest from me that you could find?”

You huffed heavily “I didn’t want any of this! Do you think I ever, for a second even thought about leaving? You think I wanted to leave? That life was perfect, and I’ve never felt anything that even came close to feeling safe after that, I fucking had to run. But right now I wouldn’t be putting you in danger anymore so I came to you to warn you, and to help you, because lord knows I never wanted to leave.” She only listened to you with her arms crossed, so you went on.

“I wanted nothing more than for things to be the way they were, but that just won’t happen, will it? I might have also changed everything about the way I look, but I haven’t changed who I really am, and I didn’t become the sour angry bitch that you did.” you spat, but she still didn’t snap back.

“I understand that you don’t want to trust me, I get it, but if you don’t even want me to explain things then there’s nothing I can do about us. I’m leaving.” you said, hoping she’d stop you, but you went to your room, grabbed your things and left, in true thief fashion, you knew where the car keys were, and you took one of them. And she didn’t stop you. The whole drive to London was foggy. Either from the cold night outside, or just the tears swimming in your eyes. Why hadn’t she stopped you?

Eventually you got to London, parked the car at the House of De Vil, leaving the keys inside. And if someone stole the damn thing, good for them.

You called a cab, got in, and he dropped you off at the airport. And now here you were, looking up at the next flights, biting your lip as your mind raced nonstop. Where were you even going? Not to Paris, that’s for sure, Dior must have a price on your head. Why the fuck didn’t she stop you!?

And something turned in your stomach as you imagined her face when you walked out of that room. How her lip must have trembled and how hard she must have fought the tears. How she fell to the floor, helpless because you’d left her again, paralysed. And this new façade of hers, you knew how hard she was trying not to break it. But you couldn’t just stand here and let her use you only when she wanted to, her coldness was too much to bear, even though you loved her and you knew she did too. You’d hurt yourself enough for this lifetime.

Knowing her past, of course it pained you to have to leave, just like everyone else did in her life, and unfortunately that included you, all those years ago, twice. And now you sat here contemplating your options, and leaving again was the most likely outcome.

The sun was coming up already, and you’d sloped into a chair, thinking about what to do next, when you heard the clink of a cane coming up to you.

“You’re not leaving me, not again darling.” she said when you looked at her. She was trying to intimidate you, to get you to do what she wanted, but you knew her too well. You were more than happy that she came to stop you, but you couldn’t just let her have her way without fixing things.

“You won’t get me to stay by being a bitch to me. I got the tickets already” you bluffed.

“So you were just going to leave me again? What did I do all those years ago?” she said, her shoulders slumping.

“It was never about you! If you could just listen to what I have to say!”

“Can you please come home with me?”

“I can’t do this if you won’t listen to me. Because you just don’t seem to care about me anymore”

She bit her lip, looking away from you, thinking about what to do.

“I… Of course I care about you” she said, closing her eyes. “You have no idea.”

“But you’ve just been away for so long, and so much has happened, Darling, I’m having a hard time dealing with this. But please don’t leave me again.”

“Then just tell me… all of what’s happened. I saw the news, but I’m sure there’s more to it”

“Let’s go home please” she whispered.

You agreed and followed her out of the airport. Once back at Hell Hall, she took you to a covered patio, with chairs and a table overlooking the cliff. There she told you how things unfolded that year, from working at Liberty to the charity ball when she fell down that very cliff. She told you about her birth certificate and how Katherine wasn’t her real mother. Jasper and Horace had told you parts of it, just not that one last bit, which shocked you beyond belief.

“And that has been me.” she said at last.

“That was a lot. And there would be no one in this world more capable of dealing with it.” you answered, to which she turned her face away to hide the colour in her cheeks.

“Well, you’ve been dying to tell me your part of things. Now’s your time.” she said.

You took a deep breath as you relived that day yet again. Finding yourself feeling the same way you had, looking at the sculptured bushes of her garden but seeing the golden displays of watches instead.

You were supposed to transfer the bag with the goods into the one you held in your other hand, a big one with a closure and that was made of a thick metal on the inside. Whatever was inside it wouldn't trigger any security system.

Except you forgot to do that. Of course. You just walked out, looking very shaken and not at all like someone who didn't just commit a crime. The costumes the four of you had were, as always, exceptional, and made you look far older than you were, but it was also the attitude that was selling your act. Right now you did look your age, given that the one thing on your mind was the way her skin had felt on yours, but not like all the times it did before, because it didn’t make you feel the same.

The alarms went off and instead of keeping a cool, nonchalant air, you decided to run off.

Well, decided isn't really the right word. The case was more of a fight or flight response, where you would choose the latter.

But that also didn’t help you much. You barely turned the street before two policemen caught you and spilled the contents of the bag onto the floor.

They dragged you into the station for an hour and a half of scolding, but, to your surprise they let you go. Not before threatening you of course, of calling your parents, and making a particular remark that chilled you to your bones. If they caught you again with some pesky group, they wouldn’t be so merciful.

They never checked your background, because if they had, you would spend the next months in an institution for troubled children, for running away from the orphanage system. You walked out as shaken as you would ever be in your life, and some part of your brain made the decision that you couldn’t go back to Estella and the boys. You convinced yourself that you did it because you couldn’t risk them getting caught because of you. You sported a target on your back, there was no way you could just walk like that into that warehouse. Bring a ticking bomb right into their lives.

So you ran off. Not to run from your feelings of course. For the following months you couldn’t think about anything else. How confused, how betrayed they must have felt, to not have you come back. Maybe they even thought you just grabbed the riches and left.

“How long did you sit at the meeting spot? When did you realise that I wouldn’t come back? And the next year was hell, because I couldn’t shake the guilt away. I wish I could have at least warned you.”

“I always knew I’d get you back” she answered with a smirk.

Notes!! I do not claim to know anything about Dior's behaviour, I would have put reader working for any designer, I chose him because his signature style fit with what I had in mind for the plot.

|| Masterlist || In coming and going (Part 1) || Wattpad Link || AO3 Link ||

Taglist: @padmeswife @ilovewinter101@cosmicbrownies7

if want to be added to a taglist for future works please let me know!

don't forget to eat today and drink water :)

[tunglo]

Fanfiction 21 Q&A Tag Game

Answer the 21 questions!

★ What fandoms have you written for?

Uh, there’s a lot... Over 50, at least.

★ How many works do you have on AO3?

144 - but a fair few of those are oneshot collections so, yeah, I dread to think what the actual fic number is!

★ What are your top 3 fics by kudos on A03?

4242 - Make Me Smile (DBH, Reed900) 

1155 - Come Up and See Me (DBH, Reed900) Yeah, I named my Reed900 fics after Steve Harley & Cockney Rebel. #NoRegrets

1131 - Kink Meme Fills, etc (The Hobbit, Bilbo/Bofur)

★ Which fic has the least kudos?

I was heartened to see on my stats page that they all have at least one kudos. I’ll take that! :D

★ Which fic has the most comments and which has the least?

Gordlock Fills (Gotham, Jim Gordon/Harvey Bullock) - 1388 comment threads.

I’ve written lots without any comments, such is the pain of tiny fandoms.

★ Which complete fic do you wish had gotten more attention?

Where I Want To Be (Tucker’s Luck, Alan/Creamy) 

Realistically it can’t because the fandom is restricted to like the 10 people who ever watched all of Tucker’s Luck, but I loved writing it so much. 

★ Have you ever written a crossover?

I’m sure I must have, back in the day. I don’t remember them though.

★ What is the craziest fic you’ve written?

I once wrote a G rated tentacle monster romance for an exchange treat, that’s gotta be up there!

★ What’s the fic you’ve written with the saddest ending?

I don’t know to be honest - I feel like most of my faves of the fics I’ve written have sad endings.

★ What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Come Alive (Downton Abbey, Thomas Barrow/OMC) All things considering.

★ What is your smuttiest fic?

You’d have to tell me! 

★ Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not hate as such, but critical comments are always a downer. The worst is actually in bookmark comments, I think, because it’s like - why have you singled this out in a way I can’t even respond to? Why even bookmark something you don’t like in the first place??

★  What is the nicest comment you’ve received?

Once, way back in LJ/FFN days, somebody sent me a really long email to say my fic - I was writing mostly young adult stuff at the time - had given them the confidence to come out to their parents. I still have a print out of it somewhere. ♥

★ Have you ever had a fic stolen?  

Some have been reposted in full to random Wattpad collections and stuff, which I always find kind of baffling, but I don’t think I’m ever gonna be high enough BNF status for someone to straight up steal a fic!

★ How many fics do you have marked as incomplete?

I very rarely write multi chapter pieces because, well, my attention span isn’t long enough and I know I won’t finish it. It just stays in drafts until it’s done.

★ Which of the WIPS will most likely be finished first?

See above...

★ Which WIP are you looking forward to finishing?

Any of them. Seriously though, inspiration to finish anything is a win in my book.

★ Is there a WIP that you’re considering abandoning?

There are lots of drafts which will likely never see the light of day for whatever reason. Sometimes I cannibalise lines or two of them when I switch fandoms...

★ Which complete fic would you consider rewriting?

I wouldn’t, I’m too lazy.

★ Which complete fic is your favourite?

I wrote a Priest AU for Gotham which I’m still really proud of. Mostly because all I knew about priests past like the 15th century before I started writing was that they traditionally wore some very aesthetically pleasing clothing. Anyway, all the research reignited my interest in religious history and I’ve been doing bits of work on early Celtic Christianity and the links between Welsh Methodism and socialism ever since. So, yeah, double win.

★ What’s your total published word count?

1863553 according to AO3, but there’s probably another 250k or so of stuff I don’t admit to floating about kink memes and the like... 

[liannelara-dracula]

You're theme is pretty when I use my computer its so cool! Do you think you can go over the theme like what all the links for. Also is it a specific theme? Also I don't want to bother you about request since I think your busy right? Like I think you said you're redoing or adding to the ml's?

Hi Love,

Thank you so much. For those of you who are wondering what it looks like I posted pictures down below. To answer your question, yes, the theme represents me actually. It's like my aesthetic/a side of me. I know I am fairly busy with things but it's okay if you request. I might close the box soon, mostly cause there is just so much I need to work on. I really would like to work on my chapters for my dl fanfics and the requests you all have sent in. And yes, I'm restructuring the layouts of my masterlists and links, its a work in progress. Its going to take a while but I hope before 2022 that I can finalize the layouts and then give you guys new content, prompts, and master posts that just help separate. It's going to look nice with everything categorized simply so I can't wait to get it rolling! I hope you guys are excited!

If you have questions you can ask me too. Okay let me explain what's going on down below.

So anyway, as you can see this is my new theme as of this moment. (I did not make it btw) At the top, you can notice some words that describe me and the little icon above it. If you're curious you can look up the meaning of the words. Then as you scroll you can see my navigation which is my pinned post. That's probably the most important thing ever because it has all the master lists and important links you guys need access to. Some things are extra as you can see, like my quotev or wattpad acc or socials. It's just if you really want to explore (I don't expect you to). Then on the sidebar of the blog, there is my name, location, and hobby. Some of you know by now I'm an artist. Down below we have a few links, some are self-explanatory; Bite and The Captured Bride are my dark DL x readers. If you have any questions about anything else don't hesitate to ask me. I will be away working on organizing the blog more but don't worry about bothering me. Anyways, I hope you are all excited.

-Liannelara

[swanslabyrinth]

I N T R O D U C T I O N

"Ah me, but where are now the songs I sang

When life was sweet because you call’d them sweet?"

~ Christina Rossetti

A B O U T M E

she/her | infp-t | 02.06.08 | gemini | taylor swift enthusiast | sweet tooth | daydreams extensively | learns hindustani classical music and bharatanatyam | loves: indie music, anything concerning taylor swift, poetry, reading/writing, afternoon naps, strolls in nature, being left alone with my thoughts, cats, cottagecore&dark/light academia moodboards, harry potter world, piano music, gay stuff for no reason, strawberries and custard apples, mars bars | conversations about general cognizance like mental health and growth, feminism and equality, lgbtiq+, etc. are areas of interest | song and book recommendations are most appreciated !

S O C I A L S

Wattpad- >@/ridlocutions- >active

Link:

Wix- >@/Swan's Labyrinth- > active

Link:

WordPress- >@/Swan's Labyrinth- > active

Link:

Pinterest- >@/rxddhxchak- >inactive

Link:

Spotify- > @/riddhi - > active

Link:

Thank you for stopping by <3

Love,

Riddhi

[winterandwords]

Loitering with intent to Wattpad

I've been dithering about this a lot since I started getting back into visible internet activity with my writing, and I decided I'm going to start a new Wattpad profile for my microfiction and maybe for longer stuff later when I have longer stuff to share.

I've been on Wattpad before. I was never hugely involved in big site-wide activities, but one of my stories was featured (I didn't apply for that or suggest it, I just logged in one day and it had happened, which was super weird), some of my books were on official genre reading lists, I read a lot there, and I shared a few novellas and novels which I love with all my heart for being learning experiences, but that aren't anywhere online now and don't really represent what I do anymore.

I definitely don't write Typical Brand Wattpad stories and I'm fully aware that the majority of WP users aren't exactly my audience, but I also don't really care, especially since the site took away basically all discoverability tools and sort of became an online slush pile for their publishing department and media partnerships. I'm not complaining about that at all, just acknowledging that it's not exactly a place to share writing socially anymore, so I don't have that expectation. I know a lot of people got royally pissed off about it, but meh. Businesses gonna business.

The main thing that made me not want to be there before was the aggressively identity politics-ish vibe that seemed to suddenly become a very strong focus. Again, not complaining (apart from about the brigading, representation policing, and other unpleasant villagers-with-pitchforks drama, but I assume that's not common), it's just not something I enjoy as the main theme of my online creative experiences.

I honestly don't know how prevalent that whole "the demographic info of writer and their characters is the most, or only, important thing about a story" approach is, or if it was just a huge deal in the circles I moved in at that particular time. Maybe it's entirely possible to be on Wattpad in a small quiet way and not get bogged down in that. I mean, Tumblr is undeniably aggressively identity politics-y overall and people get absolutely ripped to shreds for not ticking all the ever-changing boxes of moral and social acceptability, but it's not something I encounter here on a regular basis because the people I choose to follow and interact with aren't like that.

What I did enjoy about Wattpad was the platform itself, in terms of function, aesthetics and usability. While it definitely isn't somewhere to bring people into from elsewhere (you pretty much have to set up an account and/or download the app to read anything and the ads are TERRIBLE if you don't have a premium subscription), it's a lovely user experience from a writing-and-sharing perspective and lets you create very slick, beautiful books. I also met some very cool people there and it can be great for finding things to read, if you don't object to doing some digging to reach the gold.

Writing serialised fiction and posting as I write is definitely not my thing (I tried it and it wasn't for me), but I'm creating content based around microfiction for other platforms anyway and I get a kick out of playing around with sharing on various channels. I'm also writing longer stories anyway and not planning to sell those in any kind of mainstream way (they'll be downloadable for free on my website, with an option to leave a tip) so it's not like having things on Wattpad would negatively impact anything else I'm doing.

So yeah. That's a thing. I'll post a link here once I get it all set up. I'd love to hear from other Tumblr folk who are on Wattpad as well so I can visit you and read yer stuff <3

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 14: To The Boy Next Door

(from the My Girl Trilogy: Stay Mine)

…in which they play a game.

Word count: 4.7k

AU: actor!Harry, older!Harry, younger!Y/N, (4-year age gap).

Wattpad link (Thea as Y/N)

ANNOUNCEMENT: The last chapter was supposed to be released on July 1, BUT I have two final exams on that same week, so I’ll have no choice but to move the schedule forward.

Last My Girl update: July 8, 2020. (July 3: Tumblr preview and full chapter on Patreon).

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.

.

One year later

“Come in.”

When Asher entered the room, Gemma almost didn’t recognize him. He’d got a beard now, and he wasn’t wearing a suit. If she hadn’t known the charming Asher in the past, she would be so shocked to find out he was the CEO’s son. Too bad she didn’t care enough to wonder what had happened to him after his business had gone bankrupt because his father had refused to finance it. Now he was just a regular accountant.

His eyes went wide when he saw her sitting with his dad in the CEO office.

Hello, Asher, she thought, yet gave him nothing but a polite nod as if they were meeting for the first time.

“Asher, I suppose you remember Gemma?” asked his father with a sigh.

“Yes,” Asher mumbled, his gaze falling to the floor.

Of course he remembered her. Abusers always remembered their victims.

His dad looked from him back to Gemma. Hands folded on the desk, he said, “Gemma is our new COO. I hope you will have no trouble working for her.”

Asher’s head jerked up as if he’d just heard a gunshot. And Gemma, of course, was the one holding the gun.

She relished his astonishment and cracked a smile as she rose from her seat and walked toward him. She extended her hand, but he didn’t take it.

“Working for her?” he asked his dad, who replied with a stern expression.

“Yes. She’s your new boss.”

Gemma broke into a smirk, still holding out her hand in the space between them. Asher’s eyes had grown so big they nearly took over his entire face. “You,” he hissed at her, “I can't believe you weaselled your way into this company.”

“Oh, no.” Gemma frowned pretentiously and dropped her hand down to her side. “I’ve been a shareholder for almost a year. I’ve done more for this company in that short amount of time than you have your whole life.”

He thinned his lips and glared at her, unable to muster a single word.

She hated him but respected his father. And what was better as revenge than making sure she took everything he wanted? First, his father’s affection. Soon, his father’s company.

“I don’t want to make this unpleasant for you, Asher,” her voice dropped so low as she leaned in so only the two of them could hear. “Or maybe I do. So you better be a nice employee, because I wouldn't be sorry to kick you out of here.”

His face dimmed as she stepped away. If there was a camera, she’d take a picture and put it in a frame. Though she doubted this would be the last time she got to see that defeated look on his face.

"See you around, Ash," she said, placing a hand on her hip as she breezed right past him out of the room.

Two interns, a blonde and a dark-skinned girl, rose from their cubicles and rushed up to her as she was heading for the lift.

“Excuse me,” the blonde said timidly. “Are you...our new COO?”

“Y-Yes, yes, I am.” Gemma worked up a smile and the girls giggled to each other like teenagers.

“Congratulations and welcome!” said the dark-skinned one, who said her name was Marie and her friend was Claria. Gemma assumed they were going to fangirl about her brother, but then Marie said, “We love your sister-in-law’s book. We’re such big big fans.”

It took Gemma a second. “Y/N? She and Harry aren’t–”

“Future sister-in-law,” Claria corrected her friend, looking nervously from Marie back to Gemma. “We’ve...heard some rumours. Can you confirm or deny it?”

“I cannot. But I’ll let her know about you girls.”

The girls grinned like the Cheshire Cat, and Gemma could tell they were trying their best not to freak out. She waved them goodbye and hastened into the lift before the door closed.

Her phone buzzed with a new text.

Isey: Lunch? :)

Lunch :) she replied, biting back a grin.

Another notification popped up. A reply from Harry's girl. Gemma rolled her eyes as she remembered lending Harry her phone a couple of weeks ago. He'd changed most names in her contacts and she'd only managed to change back a few of them.

Harry's girl: Thanks for the birthday wish, Gem! (heart emoji)

You're welcome! Is Harry coming home today?

Harry's girl: I hope not. But idk.

We never know. How can you STAND him? Ugh.

Harry's girl: I can't lol.

Harry's girl: Anyway, what was his reaction?

Gemma knew right away whom Y/N was talking about.

Priceless, she responded.

Harry's girl: QUEEN. Make his life a living hell.

Oh I will. Certainly.

The door slid open with a ding, and Gemma tucked the phone into her bag. Her assistant was waiting outside to direct her to her new office. With a smile on her face, she stepped out of the lift and shook the assistant's hand.

She was so ready for this new beginning.

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.

.

“Good aaaaaafternoon, girlfriend! Are you feeling twenty-two?”

Y/N laughed hoarsely as she blinked a few times to let her vision get used to the light from the windows opposite the bed. “You’re embarrassing,” she said, yawning.

On the phone, Harry gasped. “Did you just wake up?!”

“I stayed up all night talking to you and had a zoom meeting with Laura this morning. Besides, it’s Sunday.”

“It’s your birthday.”

“Duh.” She grinned at the ceiling and exhaled. “I’m twenty-two now. I’m like...old.”

“Ouch. Well, aren’t you supposed to get ready for the book signing?”

“Book signing is tomorrow. Bad boyfriend.”

The sound of his laugh made her heart leap. She missed him so much. He’d been in New York for two weeks and wouldn’t be back until next Thursday, which meant she’d have to spend this birthday without him. She wasn’t sure if she should let him know she wished he were here. She really did. But she also didn’t want him to drop everything and fly back to her for only one night. He’d done that before and it'd been romantic, still, she never wanted him to do it again.

“To prove that I’m not a bad boyfriend,” he said, snapping her back to the moment. “I have a surprise for you.”

She sat up straight and whipped her head to the door. “Goddamn it, Harry,” she huffed, “if you tell me you’re standing right outside–”

“No!” He burst out laughing. “No, no, no, I’m still in New York.”

She sighed in relief, but couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed.

“My surprise is in the pocket of my favourite suit,” he said.

She had no idea what he might have up his sleeves (quite literally). Still, she rolled out of bed, shoved her feet into her slippers, and padded out of the room.

Two years ago on this same day, he’d brought her to the roof of an abandoned building, where they’d watched the night city and eaten his homemade cupcakes. On her twenty-first birthday, they hadn’t been talking. And so this year, she’d suspected that he must have planned something extravagant to surprise her, even though he wasn’t home to celebrate with her. The surprise had come a bit earlier than expected.

She switched on the light in the walk-in closet, which was as large as her old flat. His favourite suit was the one he’d worn on Grammy’s night. Sparkling dark velvet to match the aesthetic of her silvery mermaid gown, which, unfortunately, she hadn’t got a chance to show off to the world.

She stuck her hand into the breast pocket of the jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “Found it."

“Go on. Read it,” he encouraged.

“If it says ‘Happy Birthday, smiley face’, I’ll strangle you when you come back.”

A laugh burst right through him. “Your choking kink is getting out of hand, babe.”

“Shut up.” She huffed, unfolding the note. “Should have said I loved you,” she read aloud. “What does that mean?”

“You can ask for my help only once. Call me when you’ve found the fifth clue.”

“Wait!”

But he’d already hung up.

She almost called him back but then decided not to. She didn't want to waste her only chance to ask for help.

Classic treasure hunt, she thought, rereading the sentence.

The prize would be her birthday present for sure. Maybe he’d hidden it in the wood somewhere. A normal boyfriend would just have the birthday present delivered, or leave it on the table or in the garage, not challenge his girlfriend’s two only active brain cells with a children’s game. But Y/N wasn’t a normal girlfriend. And as much as she hated working for something other than her writing, a part of her was excited.

“Should have said I loved you,” she thought out loud, then snapped her fingers and rushed across the hallway to his library.

Two years ago, she’d told him she’d loved him for the first time and received silence in return. In this very room, he’d watched her leave.

She stood in front of the giant bookcase, which he’d had installed a month after she’d officially moved in. Most of these books were from her collection. On a shelf in the middle stood three framed photos of them. Them in Paris. Them with their families on a vacation last summer. Them at her graduation.

She flipped each frame over to check the back, but none had what she was looking for. She tapped her foot impatiently on the carpet while assessing the rest of the bookcase. It didn’t take her too long to notice that one book was upside down.

P.S. I Love You by Cecelia Ahern.

Of course. Of-fucking-course.

She rolled her eyes, feeling a smile stretching her lips as she took the book from the shelf and opened it to the first page. There was a post-it note that said:

Congrats, babe. You’ve found it. Next clue: Where the magic happens ;)

‘Where the magic happens.’ If it wasn’t sexual, the winky face had made sure that it was.

Could it be their bed? Nope. She'd slept there last night.

Could it be the first place they’d had sex?

Could the next clue be inside that car?

She jolted with a start and dashed out of the library, and as soon as she reached the stairs, she suddenly halted.

No. She didn’t remember which car they’d had sex in for the first time, and he’d got a whole collection of cars. It’d take forever to search every single one. That wasn’t the right answer.

Sighing, she stood on the first stair and contemplated the clue again.

They used to play Treasure Hunt when they were younger. There were usually at least five or six clues, and the first three should be easy.

Could it be her flat? Most of their ‘secret relationship’ had happened in her flat. It used to be their secret kingdom. Impenetrable. Disconnected to the outside world. They’d also had their second real kiss outside her door, and she still had until the end of this month before she must return the keys to the landlord.

She wasn’t sure, and she wasn’t going to drive all the way there just to find out she was wrong.

And so she decided to call him.

“Let me guess,” he said as soon as the beeping stopped. “You’re either super impatient or your fairy godmother appeared and helped you find all five clues.”

She rolled her eyes. “Third clue. Is it your car or my flat?”

“My car?” He sounded confused, which gave her the impression that she might have got it wrong.

Her cheeks burnt as she said, “We had sex for the first time in your car.”

“No, not my car, but damn, I should have thought of that.”

“So it’s my flat?”

“Are you sure you want to ask me now?”

“Yes.”

“Yes,” he smugly confirmed. “It’s your flat. Now you’re on your own until the final clue.”

“Fuck,” she grunted and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I thought you’d have trouble with this one, too. I mean, we fuck everywhere these days.”

“If my birthday present isn’t worth all this, we won’t be fucking ever again.”

He gasped at the threat, and she could picture him wearing that stupid crooked smile as he told her, “Good luck, kid. I believe in you.”

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.

.

She found the next clue on Thumper’s lap.

When she’d moved most of her furniture to Harry’s house, she’d forgotten to take the purple stuffed bunny with her. She held it under her arm and scrutinized the pink post-it note, which said:

I cannot believe you left Thumper behind. Third clue: Drunk little deer.

“Drunk little deer? What does that even mean?” Then she looked at Thumper. “Should I kick him in the balls when I see him?”

She made the rabbit nod and burst out laughing at how crazy she sounded. If anyone walked in and saw her talking to a stuffed animal, they would assume she was either crazy or drunk.

Drunk.

She was the drunk little deer. Drunk Bambi.

The answer was the place he'd seen her drunk for the first time.

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.

.

Andrew recognized Y/N right from the moment she stepped into the pub. He leaned over the counter and shouted for everyone to hear, “Little girl! Good to see you again!”

“Andrew," she smiled and shouldered her way towards the bar.

He eyed her up and down as she slid onto one of the stools. “You look different. I hope you’re not here to drink again. I might have to kick you out.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You look different, too. I like your new hair.”

Andrew rubbed his shiny bald head, scowling at her as she raised a smile and rested her chin on her knuckles. Andrew might look intimidating, especially now without his hair, but he was one of the softest people she’d ever met. He’d been so kind to her during her tough times and even let her haunt his pub day and night until Harry had come for the rescue.

“You’re kind of famous now, aren’t you?” Andrew said. “I’ve read your book. It didn’t suck.”

“You have?”

He lifted one giant shoulder of his, pursing his lips. “My wife made me. She's a big fan. Your boyfriend came two weeks ago and he even signed the book for her. He said he was the one in the story.”

“My boyfriend was here?”

Andrew gave a nod.

The voices in Y/N's head started cheering like she’d just won a wrestling match. It would have been so embarrassing if she'd asked Andrew first and then found out she'd got it wrong.

“Well, did he leave...something for me? A message perhaps?”

Andrew growled as he turned away, and without a word, disappeared through a stained curtain behind him. He came back five minutes later and handed her a green post-it note with an unreadable grimace on his face.

She snatched it immediately. A laugh crackled out of her as if he’d just given her gold.

Hi babe, you’re almost there! My biggest fans (not you) have the final clue. Get back to work.

“He gave this to me when he signed the book,” Andrew said.

Y/N mumbled the words over as she tried to figure them out. Her first guess for ‘biggest fans (not you)’was Gemma and Isaac. But then she got rid of the idea because they had to be at the same place at the same time in order for this to work, and Gem and Isaac were both at work.

Which two people were together right now and were also Harry’s biggest fans?

‘Get back to work.’

Yes. That’s it!

Y/N thrust the post-it note into her bag and rose from the stool. “I’m sorry. This must be weird to you.”

“It’s quite romantic, actually," Andrew said.

“Really?”

“And weird. You two are both weird. What a perfect couple.”

“Gee, thanks.”

As she spun on her heels, Andrew called after her, “Hey, little girl. I’m sorry I said you weren’t a real writer.”

“You said that?”

“You were drunk,” he chuckled. “Anyway, bring your weird boyfriend back sometimes.”

“I will. If there’s free beer.”

“Get out of here.” He shot his finger toward the door, but it was the first time she’d seen Andrew smile with his whole face.

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.

.

Eddie’s bookshop was busy on most Sundays. Well, it had been busy almost every day since Y/N had credited him in her latest best-selling debut novel.

She entered the shop and was immediately recognized by a group of schoolgirls, who asked her to sign their new copies of her book and questioned her about the story. She recycled the same amiable answers that didn’t give away any more than what they might already know. Since she’d already got used to the attention, the fans didn’t intimidate her anymore.

She took a selfie with the girls and bid them goodbye. Then one of the new employees told her that Eddie and Alice were sorting books at the back. She wandered along aisles until she found them. Eddie was scolding Alice for putting hardcovers in between paperbacks. Nothing got on Eddie’s nerves as much as putting hardcovers in between paperbacks.

“The hardcovers take more shelf-space so you cannot put them there! God, Alice, were you drunk when you were sorting these books?”

“I wish I were drunk now,” Alice said, and her eyes lit up as she saw Y/N. She nearly tackled Y/N to the floor with a violent hug, and Y/N returned with half as much enthusiasm.

“You’re like a Golden Retriever,” Y/N said, pulling back and cupping her friend’s face.

“Happy birthday! I was gonna send you–”

Eddie didn’t wait for Alice to finish as he pushed her aside to step forward, his face brightened like the sun. “You’re here for the clue, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I–”

“We can’t just hand it to you.” That sun-like face suddenly turned serious. “You need a password. What is Harry’s favourite book?”

Y/N arched an eyebrow at Eddie as if expecting him to say ‘gotcha!’ But he only mirrored her expression as he crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for an answer.

“Seriously?” Y/N scoffed, looking at her two friends. “He’s that narcissistic?”

Alice smirked as she raised a shoulder. “Either you answer or search this entire bookshop yourself.”

“I fucking hate him and I fucking hate both of you.” Y/N rolled her eyes upward and exhaled sharply. “Norwegian Wood.”

“Huh?”

“That’s his favourite book,” she told Alice and remembered Alice didn’t read fiction unless it was compulsory. “Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami.”

Eddie looked confused. “He loves Haruki Murakami? His books are misogynistic.”

“Harry’s got a bad taste in authors. But judging from your reactions, I suppose that is not the correct answer, and I should probably break up with my boyfriend because I don’t know what his favourite book is.”

“You do, Y/N.” Alice beamed as she leaned a shoulder against the bookcase. “You’re thinking too big. It’s pretty simple.”

“Shit. Is it my book?” Y/N asked, then pinched the bridge of her nose as Eddie began to smile. “Goddamn it, he’s like my dad times ten.”

“What did your dad do?” Eddie asked.

“He bought a bunch of copies of my book and sent them to our relatives for Christmas. It was pretty embarrassing.”

“Aww.”

“ALICE!”

“Jesus Christ!” Alice covered her ears as she shot Eddie a glare. “I’m standing right next to you.”

“Go get the clue!” Eddie flicked his fingers at her. “Go! Hurry!”

Alice rolled her eyes and flipped him off as she backed out of the aisle. Eddie ignored her and turned back to Y/N, grinning from ear to ear like he was the birthday girl. “Are you excited?”

“Not as much as you are. That’s for sure,” Y/N said and made sure he knew she was joking by giving him a toothy grin.

“I’m not gonna tell you what the surprise is, you know.”

“I’m not asking.”

Eddie’s laugh was high as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “What I can tell you is that you’re gonna love it. Too bad I cannot be there to see your reaction.”

“Trust me,” she said. “You don’t wanna see me scold Harry through the phone.”

Alice returned with a copy of My Girl and handed it to Y/N with a smile that possibly meant, ‘You’re gonna love this’.

Suspicious and somewhat elated, Y/N opened the book to the dedication page.

To Mum, Dad, and the boy next door.

Those were her words. Below was his handwriting: Hi my love :)

Curious, she turned to the first chapter. This wasn’t just another copy of her book, of which she’d got all the different covers at home. With this one, Harry had done the same thing he’d done to her journal. His handwriting was scattered across the pages. He’d underlined all the quotes he’d enjoyed and left comments about them on the side.

Y/N heard Eddie say something about how he would never write in books and Alice immediately shush him for being rude. Y/N never wrote in books, either, but she loved reading Harry’s handwritten notes. It felt like he was reading the story with her. The butterflies in her stomach went wild just from imagining him taking his time writing on each page and grinning at his own jokes. If this was the birthday surprise, she could not ask for anything more.

However, she knew he had to be more extra than this.

And there it was. Proof that this was not the surprise. On the very last page, he wrote:

Meet me where the sky meets the earth.

“Where the sky meets the earth?” she thought out loud and glanced up at Eddie, who responded with a shrug. Alice did, too. Y/N didn’t think they were lying. Harry must have told them what the surprise was, but not the answers to these cryptic messages.

Eddie patted her on the back as he wished her good luck and shooed Alice back to the front to assist the customers. Y/N was left behind to work it out on her own. She leaned against the bookcase, pondering over the words.

Hadn’t Harry said she was allowed to call him when she reached the fifth clue?

She tucked the book under her arm and pulled out the phone from the pocket of her jeans.

“Hi, babe!”

“I’ve got the fifth clue,” she blurted. “What do I do now?”

“I don’t know. Solve it?”

“Yes, smartarse. The answer is, I don’t know.”

“You’re not even thinking.”

“You said you’d help me!”

“I said I’d help you once,” he countered. “And I did. I told you to call me just so I know when you’ve reached the final clue.”

“So you’re not gonna help me with this one?”

He was quiet for a moment. “Well, I can give you a hint. What do all the places you’ve visited today have in common?”

She chewed on her lip, an arm folded over her chest. “They’re memories,” she whispered.

“That’s right,” he whispered back, like they didn’t want anyone to overhear their conversation. “This last place is a memory as well. Where the sky meets the earth. Think, kid.”

She pouted. “Can I please get another hint?”

“You don’t get to talk in a cute voice and manipulate me, Bambi,” he sighed. “Fine. Our first date.”

“Holmes Chapel?!”

He said nothing and hung up.

It took Y/N a few seconds, but she believed she’d got the answer.

.

.

.

She took the lift and climbed four sets of stairs to the roof.

Adrenaline buzzed right through her, causing her hands to shake and her heart to pound against her ribcage. The metal was cold against her fingertips as she pawed the heavy door open slowly. It was unlocked.

The cold wind gushed in, blowing her hair out of her face as she stepped into the night. The city of London gleamed before her eyes. Where the sky meets the earth. This was where they could see stars high above and down below.

And there he was. Waiting for her with that smug crooked grin on his stupid face.

“Hi,” he said.

Oh, how she’d missed his stupid beautiful face.

She tucked her hands into the pockets of her jacket and ambled forward, still thinking him being here was too good to be true.

He lifted both hands like a surrendered criminal, both eyebrows raised as he said, “Before you get angry, I can explain.”

“Please do,” she demanded but found herself smiling.

With the wind in his hair, dimples on his cheeks and city light in his eyes, he looked absolutely breathtaking. She couldn’t hate him even if she tried.

Harry exhaled unsteadily through his mouth before mumbling, “Here I go,” and then he was on his knee in front of her.

She didn’t react when he took her cold hand and pressed it against his warm chest. She could feel his heart beating almost in sync with her own.

“Are you surprised?” he asked, chuckling nervously.

She exhaled a quiet laugh and said, “Yes, but also no.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Because I warned you this would happen?”

“Because you warned me this would happen.” Her mouth curved at the corner as she recalled the Oscar night in his LA house, both of them drunk, him on his knee like this, a promise, and how in love she’d felt, almost as much as she did in this very moment.

“Is this too early or too late?” he ventured.

“This is perfect.”

She pressed her lips into a smile, and his green eyes flickered in the semi-darkness. “Well then.” He straightened his back. “Y/N ‘Bambi’ Y/L/N.”

“Yes.” Her voice was so brittle she feared he wouldn’t hear it, her stomach twisted into triple knots, her chest fluttering and her fingers trembling.

He held her gaze as the corner of his mouth arched. “Will you…”

“I swear to God if you’re jok–”

“Marry me,” he blurted, panting as though saying those words had drained all the energy out of him. “Marry me. I want to annoy you for the rest of my life. I want every fight, every laugh, every up and down, every kiss, every touch, everything about you. I will love you until all my teeth fall out, until you finally learn to cook–”

“I’ll never learn to cook.”

“I know,” he chuckled. “Most importantly, I’ll even let you love young Leo a bit more than me, but only sometimes.”

She covered her mouth. What meant to be a laugh came out as a sob.

“I would have written a speech, but I figured you’d roast me for my bad writing, so I’d rather improvise and blame this awful proposal on it being improvised.”

“God, you’re fucking annoying,” she laughed tearily into her hand and he was laughing, too.

Quickly, he got to his feet and tugged her into him. She circled her arms around his waist, her face buried into his chest as she inhaled the scent she’d missed achingly in the last two weeks.

“My girl is such a crybaby,” he said, kissing the top of her head, her temple, her ear, her cheek, her forehead. He kissed and held her until she’d calmed down.

“Yes,” she told him at last, lifting her eyes up to his.

“Yes, you’re a crybaby?”

“Yes, you’re a dumbarse and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life roasting you and yes, I’ll sometimes love young Leo more than you but only sometimes, because you’re the greatest love of my life and I cannot imagine a life without you–”

He stopped her with his lips, his hands tenderly cupping her face as his thumbs moved slowly over her chin, cheeks and jawlines. She’d imagined that their first kiss after two weeks apart would be sexually aggressive and against-the-wall hot, but this kiss was slow and sensual and passionate and full of wanting. It felt like his promise for their future together. One that would last.

[scribeofmorpheus]

Himmeløyne [22/?]

Pairing: Loki Odinson x Reader

Catch Up Here | Masterlist

Warnings: None

A/N: I have started my first original gothic story (it'll be much darker than this fic but can I offer you werewolves, vampires, 1970s Europe aesthetic as an incentive?). It's on Wattpad and I intend to update it every Wednesday, but I never stick to update schedules so... Here ya go: OUR LADY OF DARKNESS

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment or leave a like please ☺

~Y/N

The end of the abyss—that frightful stream of continuous fall and forceful uplift—it finally had an end. It was a large door. Smell of rain and storms, with the slick glisten of wet rock hugging the archway. A dark type of stone, jagged and natural, the door seemed to be carved into the side of a mountain. But the mirage ended where the rock began, there were no walls. No infrastructure. Just the green of the mirror world and two hunkering doors. The archway was carved in the shape of a snake; same as the kind that embellished the rigging of ships, tongue curled, eyes made of rings within rings.

A sequence of lettering—foreign, yet oh, so familiar—hovered in the mist, your mind scrambling to make sense of the words.

“Oracle, what is this place?”

The whisper was quiet, for a brief moment you worried that you were truly on your own in this stretch of emptiness.

I sense… something has been concealed from me. Its magic is fevered, dusted in loss. Pain. Desire. It is out of place. Out of time. The conjurer’s magic has the same energy as yours, only… stronger.

“Stronger?” You shuddered at the thought. After a pause, you asked: “You don’t see the door?”

Door? What door?

“What of the letters?”

I—No, I see nothing. Describe it to me.

“There’s a serpent on the door.”

A serpent? Does he eat his tail?

“No, his head marks the start of the archway, but his mouth is facing the ground.”

Then it is incomplete. An incantation must be needed to complete the image. What of the lettering?

“These letters, they’re different than common tongue or Asgardian runes. They aren’t Jotun either. They look… I don’t know. They look so familiar.”

Reach for them.

“What?”

Familiar magic has a tendency to want to be understood, that is why it feels familiar. Touch it.

You stuck your hand up, jumping on your tippy-toes to try and grab the incorporeal words floating above your head. In defiance, they simply rose higher up, further out of reach.

Do not reach with your body, Child of the Sky. Reach with your magic.

With an exhale, you stuck both hands high up in the air, conjuring the bristle of energy that raced across your spine during spellcasting. Remembering through muscle and memory of what it was like to be in control of your magic. Of what it was like to revel in its deliciousness, its wildness, its link to Loki. A swirl of warmth took shelter in your belly, that warmth you’d grown to love before it was ripped from you and replaced by the cold of Odin’s incantation.

Suddenly, the words began to sink, lowering themselves like feathers, at first, then with the heft of an arrow, and finally, a stone.

With a crash, the words burst into fire and embers, each ember digging into your skin in a sensory overload that formed echoes in the mist.

A version of you,—the shade whose voice you heard in the abyss—older, magic glowing a different hue of blue, in strange clothing, stood by the door. You were witnessing the construction of the doorway. Every splinter, fibre, rock and sand particle materialised as though you were undoing the wroth of a sandstorm to make way for a rock giant. A woman, with firebrand hair and soft features, stood beside you, she looked drained, weary. She had magic too, it was the colour of blood. The colour of fire. It flickered in and out around her body, as if fighting to take over.

There was a young boy clasping onto the shade’s hand. Aloof in expression, a scaly growth the colour of white sands on his elbows, ankles, neck and cheeks. He was a beautiful child, hair as soft as down, curls that fluffed in a way you could never get yours too. Eyes of a pure and deep blue. Ocean surface during a thunderstorm blue.

He looked at the shade the same way little Sigrid had when she’d waved her plump, little hand goodbye before following after the hunters. It made you yearn for something so pure with a fierce heart.

“There, that should do it,” the shade said as the door materialised from thin air. “Now, we need a seal so no one who wanders can know of this place.”

“Is this absolutely necessary?” the woman asked, hugging her frame as if she were cold.

“I don’t like it any more than you do, but this is the only way I know for certain that what we’re doing now happens.” The shade’s voice felt dark, wizened in years, the same way Frigga spoke of grave matters. “This fortress is the only way he survived in my time. If we can’t change things, as the sorcerer said, then the least we can do is ensure things continue on their set path.”

“He’ll be trapped… for who knows how long? Centuries? Millennia? He’s just a boy.”

“He’s more than that,” the shade got down on one knee to look at the boy. From that angle, you could see the mangled, L shaped scars over each of her shoulder blades. They resembled the scars birds would suffer when their wings were ripped for medicines. “This is the only way he stays safe. I’ve already cemented the other enchantments. Time will not be felt here. He will not feel sadness or regret or the bitterness of solitude. He will sleep, as I once did, except… he will not be aware. And he will dream of only happy things. Then, when the time comes, I will jump. I’ll take him back with me.”

The firebrand woman showed doubt for the first time, “How do you know?”

“Because I’ve already done it.” The shade touched the other magic bearer’s shoulder, a comradery there. A closeness built from time and triumph, much like that kindred fire you shared with Sif. “Now, a phrase. A word. Anything to bind this lock to. Something unique.”

“Why don’t you choose it?” “Because I know myself. It has to be something I’d never choose so that she never knows it, and no mind reader can ever guess it should they stumble upon this place.”

“Vision,” the woman’s lips quivered with loss, but there was a bloom of hope in the tweak of her lips as your shade repeated the word.

The biting of the magic ended, and suddenly, you were alone again.

What happened? Child of the Sky? Are you there?

“I’m right here, Oracle,” you choked out, a tightness in your throat.

You were gone. One instant here, the next… nowhere. Somewhere. Between.

“I know how to open the door,” you took several steps back and then cleared your throat. With conviction and authority, you calmly said: “Vision.”

What did the magic reveal to you?

Your head was spinning from the fabrics of this mirror universe being so amateurishly tailored, so lacking in its design and purpose. The more you discovered, the more you began to doubt if this world was ancient; or if it was barely into its adolescence. “I do not quite understand it, yet. You said you were imprisoned here?”

Yes. I have been without body or memory for as long as I can remember.

The snake on the door began to slither till its mouth was at the top, and its tail was tucked firmly in its jaws. Then its eyes glowed the same colour as the child’s, thunderstorm blue. With a groan and a strike of something loud, the door peeled back. Beyond its threshold was a mutation of worlds, all collided in exquisite syzygy; aligned, misaligned, human, Asgardian, Jotun, and even the liquid blackness of space with pepper spots for stars.

“And how long ago was that?”

I—I do not… Centuries? Millennia? Aeons?

To busy your mind of doubt and fear as you stepped past the threshold and heard the door seal shut behind you, you toyed with the idea of understanding more of this world. “You said you could hear the beginning of your name… What was it?”

The whisper grew soft, warm. It sounded like ‘see’. Or was it the sea? Sea? Sea. Sea!

A garden shifted into the plane, then with a breath, a lake, then a cave, then a temple, then a waterfall, then a tower made of metal and glass. The world wasn’t fixed to a temporal setting, nor a specific location in space. It was like watching fire tell a story; brief, bright and constant.

Sea! Sea! Sea! Sea!

At the epicentre, laying on a stone tablet with a curtain of gold—that same curtain from the healing chamber—wrapped around like a fleece, was the child. Unaged. Beautiful. Asleep. He had no scaly growths like in the visions.

You took your steps with trepidation. Almost afraid to make a whisper even though the Oracle chanted ‘Sea!’ over and over. Its voice morphing into the very faint intones of a voice you knew all too well.

The world began to peel away the closer you got to the child. A presence was syphoning the magic, transmuting it for another purpose. A purpose that you now realised was meant to happen. Soon, a figure of pure light, with large wings of utmost magnificence, formed from the siphoned magics of the world. The Oracle was gaining form. The fleece turned grey and the boy began to stir. The magic of the sleep spell was broken.

You approached him slowly. Hands seeking out his aura. Then, in the most silver of voices you’d ever heard, he said, “You came. You said you’d come.” A smile of familiarity adorned his freckled laugh lines.

Sea! Sea! Sea! Sea!

“Do you know me?”

He nodded.

Sea! Sea! Sea! Sea!

 “How?”

 “From now.”

Sea! Sea! Sea! Sea!

“What’s your name?”

He seemed confused. Reeling back from the line you’d cast him for with that question. Bait in hook, he fished in the muddy waters that were your consciousness. You could feel his magic, abrasive as sand between toes, cool and wet, but also warm and sea-salt thick. He replied, “You haven’t given it to me yet. But you will return hers to her.”

He pointed to the Oracle’s figure, pulsating into a more corporeal form. The boy opened his hand and you knew instantly what he needed you to do before you thought to ask. A reflex. His magic extended to yours, carrying thought, and the very genesis of thought in its energy. You placed your face close so his hand could cover the cavity where your eye used to be.

Sugar. Berries picked from the wild thickets. A prick into padded thumb. Ooze of blood. A slight sting, then a scab and finally nothing, no marks, no evidence of the thorn in your thumb. He was projecting images of what he envisioned as he healed you. What the berries would taste like; apples. “You can open your eyes now. It was gold when we met. I kept it the same.”

Feeling no different than before, you opened both eyes for the first time since you stepped into Verdenspeil. With a tickle, the runes drawn on your hand and forehead sloughed off like skin cells. You could see the world without them. You could see through both eyes again. The shifting world shifted to a hexagon of mirrors. One, the sky shifting blue of your mother, the other, the ancient, world piercing gold of your father, your face held two eyes again.

“It’s… beautiful,” you looked down at the boy with your eyes. He showed teeth with his grin, pleased with himself. Pleased with your laugh of awe. “There was a boy in my village. Half as beautiful as you are. Half as joyful, with a smile and constellations marking his nose and cheeks too. He showed me kindness. His name was Baldrick. I shall call you Baldrick.”

 “Now that you have spoken my name, remind her of who she is,” the boy said, glancing at the Oracle. “You know. You know but cannot believe.”

A gasp left your mouth. A mix of hope and disbelief. With the new eye, you could see the face of the Oracle beneath the light, beneath the enchantment that kept her hidden.

Sea! Sea! Sea! Sea!

“S-Sigrid.”

The Oracle hushed before exploding into a million, tiny pieces of energy. Out of the explosion was your mother, winged as the Valkyrie from legend, wearing the armour you had seen in the mirror prior to entering Verdenspeil.  

“Y/N,” she said, lowering to the ground. Her hand cupped your face. You could barely feel her. “I have waited so long for this moment.”

“Mother,” you hugged her close.

A swirl of black formed once the mirrors of the world broke. Sigrid looked at you with panic.

“Listen, there isn’t time. Take the boy, “Sigrid removed a bracelet and cast it into the black-hole. A portal began to form, leading to what looked like a stone temple. “Take him and jump, it’ll lead you to the one with answers.”

“I don’t understand! Why can’t you come with us? How are you alive?”

“I’m not alive dear, sweet child. But I can promise this isn’t the last you’ll see of me. We will meet again, soon. I promise. But you must go, the world has fulfilled its purpose. There is no reason for it to exist anymore. It has already began to unravel.”

The mist began to turn sour, choking like poison.

You coughed, breathing through your sleeve, “But, as the Oracle, you said I had to take you to the source.”

“You are the source. You and the boy. Your magics are entangled. The maze was a lie, one devised by you. This world isn’t ancient, it is young. A deception. I am the deceiver. My purpose was to ensure none but you found the boy and the portal to Mímir’s tomb. You enchanted this world so all would walk along the lighted paths until they reached a portal that would return them to a random space within the nine realms. You enchanted this world with your memories, so only you could follow them. Hear them.” Sigrid handed you a four-pronged dagger, “Take this you’ll need it.” She kissed your cheek, then her form started unravelling with the world too. Through transference, she gave you her armour, it was lighter than you'd expected, and it fit to cover your proportions through magical effect.

“Why can’t you come with us?” you reached your hand out to Baldrick. He took it with ease.

“I am not meant for the lands of the living,” she lamented. “Go! Before the world takes you with it.”

You rushed to the portal, but before you could step through you asked one last question: “What did you mean by ‘sins of the father’?”

“The war,” Sigrid fluttered her wings to hover in the green mist. “It was a lie. The Jotuns, they didn’t start it. We—the Himmel Kvinner—there’s a reason why only the women in our family inherited the gift. It’s not just power. It’s essence. A woman’s essence. Odin didn’t know we would develop magic from the artefact, but none of us were able to understand the complexity of her spell. Until you. You will discover the reason behind it all. You told me you did. I suspect it is because you are not fully mortal." Bitterly, she added as her body turned to mist as well, "You will bring the heavens to its knees. And your fate is that none shall remember it.”

One of Sigrid’s wings dissipated, she faltered in the air, then shouted: “Go!”

“I love you,” you whispered before hurtling through the undulating expanse of the portal.

“I know…” you heard her whisper back as Verdenspeil was destroyed.

[senlinyu]

Thank you so much for sharing all that you have about the writing process! How important is promotion of your work across different platforms? Is it important at all?

Sorry. I’ve been sitting on this ask for a while... but we were just having a discussion on the Dramione Fanfiction Server about promotion and I realised I should get to writing all this out.

This is sort of a follow up on my post about doing weekly updates and writing my fics in full prior to publishing them. Find it here.

Caveat, these are my personal observations only. I’ve been involved in the fandom for a little over 2 years, and at least tried most of the fandom platforms to some extent and followed a lot of discussions among writers and readers.

This is basically a rundown of things that I wish someone had told me about promotion when I started. It’s also an info dump, I’m sorry. You don’t need to do all these things, or any of these things. But if you’re trying to figure stuff out, this is what I’ve noticed. A lot of this is based on my experiences and the experiences I’ve heard from other writers.

Publishing

• The first step you’ll take in promotion is publishing your fic: The most active platforms for fic are archiveofourown.org (Ao3) and fanfiction.net (FFN). There’s also wattpad, but my experience there is limited, so I won’t comment on it. Older fandoms are still hanging out on FFN, but a lot of people are finally migrating to Ao3.

I cross-post most of my fic, with the exception of very sexually explicit content. FFN hasn’t enforced their content restrictions in years, but they have cracked down in the past and deleted fic without warning, and if you’re reported and they decide you violate their terms it’s extremely difficult to dispute based on everything I’ve heard from fandom olds.

Title: It’s ideal to find a title that doesn’t already have seventy fics attached to it for your fandom/ship. But there are a finite number of titles, this may not always work. However, if there’s a super popular fic already with that title, it may be advisable to choose something else because people will get confused about which fic it is and the other fic will tend to show up first in a google search.

If you choose a long title (more than five words), or a title with multiple words in a foreign language, people will have a harder time remembering it. One of my favorite fics has a long Latin quote for its title that isn’t a super common phrase. I cannot ever remember except that it starts with an ”a.” I have to refind it every time I want to rec it by googling one of the author’s other fics and then sorting through her listed works. Avoid this if possible.

Summary: Don’t say things like “story’s better. I suck at summaries.” If you can’t figure out what to put in the summary, put in an excerpt that you feel captures the tone and spirit of the story.

Smut sells. On ao3, a not overly-explicit excerpt of a scene will often garner more hits than anything else. Although I wouldn't promote a fic in that manner if there’s actually minimal smut in the story.

Rating: On FFN it’s unfortunately better to be safe than sorry. People will sometimes complain if T rated fics even allude to the existence of sex. But M ratings will create the expection of some level of smut. If you’re writing a M rated fic without sexual content, it can be a good idea to have an author’s note at the very beginning explaining what the rating is and isn’t for. (Many people never ever read author’s notes, but at least then it’s not on you anymore.)

Tagging: On Ao3, good tagging can make or break a fic. The balance is between under-tagging and over-tagging. Dramione is relatively chill about tags because a lot of readers are from FFN where there are no tags. However, newer readers, especially those coming over from other fandoms, can be very particular about tagging and complain in the comments if your tagging it insufficient or misleading.

Fandom etiquette dictates: use the archive warnings and always tag triggers. Even if it’s a plot twist. People who really care about not having plot elements spoiled can hide additional tags from their browsing. The main archive warnings are: graphic violence, character death, rape, underage. If you include any of those things without an archive warning or tags, people will not be inclined to trust you.

I know that’s not how published books are, but it’s a question of which hills you want to die on. I strongly discourage dying on this hill when you’re first starting out.

Additional tags. There’s a very tricky balance between over-tagging and under-tagging. People don’t like tag walls, but they do want some information. Tag the story’s main tropes: enemies to lovers, mutual pining, miscommunication, coworkers, Veela, etc. Tag the triggers. (A word of advice, if you’re writing a fic with rape/non-con that occurs but isn’t committed between the main pairing, specify that in your tags, e.g. ‘attempted sexual assault, not by Draco’ ) Tag kinks, especially if they’re not garden variety. Very, very few readers are going to be pleased to have a kink sprung on them, one person’s kink can be another person’s squick. People who want your fic may not find it if you haven’t tagged it, and people who don’t want that kink will not be pleased about tripping on it.

Don’t over-tag. If “explicit sexual content” is tagged, most people will assume the general explicit sex spectrum. Unless there’s a particularly heavy focus there’s no need to list every single basic aspect of sex in your tags: “vaginal sex, vaginal penetration, fingering, humping, groping, oral sex, breast worship, etc etc”. Nor should you tag every single character or subpairing who happens to appear unless they’re a significant element of the plot.

Promotion on other platforms:

Dramione and HP is an older fandom. The Hermione-centric parts of fandom are primarily here on Tumblr and on Facebook in the form of private groups, some that are ship specific and others that are slightly more general. Reddit is fairly inactive for dramione, and the HP subreddit is not particularly fond of dramione.

Dramione is beginning to establish itself on discord, but it's still a gradual process.

Some writers join the FB groups with their IRL accounts, but its a growing trend to create fandom pseuds for FB groups, which is what I do. Some Facebook groups require that new members privately provide the admins with a form of ID for age/identity verification. Whether or not you're comfortable/willing to out your pseud in that way is a matter of personal discretion.

Most groups do not require this... but it’s something to be aware of.

Tumblr: Posting about story updates on Tumblr is one the the best things to do for promotion beyond the basics of posting your fic. Since it’s a public platform unlike FB, it’s one of the most visible ways to boost your story and let people know about updates.

Cover art/aesthetics for your fic are a great way to catch attention. If you’re like me and very bad at making aesthetics and covers the @dark-arts-society-fbhp is a group specializing in covers and manips. If you’re not a member on FB, the admins say that writers can submit requests via the tumblr asks and they will be shared to the group. Send them:

Title:

Penname:

Characters/ships:

Tone:

Fancasts:

Other info:

Tumblr

Post a fic update on tumblr with cover art, links, and an excerpt of the chapter. Personally the fics that catch my attention have excerpts that are at least a couple paragraphs long.

You want to include enough content to pique reader curiosity and demonstrate your writing style. It makes you less an unknown to readers looking for something new. Every update is an opportunity to catch the attention of new readers and each new excerpt can do that.

A couple don’ts:

Don’t just keep reblogging the same post, adding a link to the latest chapter. Reblogs don’t show up in the tumblr tags. Make a new post for each chapter update and use the fandom tags every time. The first five tags you use are what can show up in tags, everything after the first five should just be for your tumblr’s personal organization.

Do not include triggering content in your excerpt. It’s rude and a way to get unfollowed or blocked.

Don’t use too many links on your update posts. If there are too many links, tumblr won’t have the post to show up in the tags. I’m not sure what the cut-off is because tumblr is an illogical beast. 2-3 links seems to be fine. Link to FFN and AO3 and nothing else.

Don’t use your tumblr solely as a personal house organ. If no one is interacting with your posts, tumblr is less likely to decide you’re a real blog and let your posts show up in the tags. Connect to other fandom blogs by reblogging and liking their content. I generally don't follow tumblrs that blog solely about their own content, because I'd just subscribe to the story or the writer. Reblog art, reblog aesthetics, reblog fandom memes, reblog drabbles, reblog updates from fics you’re following, etc.

However, even if you do all that, tumblr’s algorithm is a mysterious and illogical creature. Sometimes posts need to have a certain number of likes and reblogs to show up in the “Dramione” tag, although the algorithm is inconsistent there are many exceptions, but as a general rule this seems to be the case.

In my most recent Dramione update post, the post in question never showed up in the recent ”Dramione” tags, despite fairly high engagement. I have no idea why. That’s all the more reason to create a new post for every update, because tumblr will just randomly screw you over at times. 😑

If you write dramione, one of the best forms of exposure is by getting your fic updates reblogged by @dramioneasks, they have a very large following on Tumblr, and regularly go through recent posts under the dramione tag and reblog the story updates that show up there. A lot of writers have noticed a dramatic difference in engagement if their updates get reblogged by DramioneAsks.

Another way to promote your writing more generally is by accepting prompts and/or posting ficlets solely on Tumblr. Those will usually get more reblogs and likes than a story update will. In my observation, ficlets tend to do best when they’re between .5k to 2k words (longer than that and people will complain about huge walls of text in their feed.) DramioneAsks will also reblog those.

Facebook

The other main platform for the Dramione fandom is FB. It’s the place that a lot of the fests and comps are hosted and where a lot of writers will begin forming some fandom relationships. People will post recs for stories they like, and ask for recs with certain tropes, etc. You can also post story updates there.

However, it’s also a lot of individual ponds because the groups are all closed, and there’s only partial overlap between them in terms of membership. Different groups have different cultures and fic preferences and you only tend to start figuring them out after being there for a while.

They also all have different rules and policies about things, such as requiring members to provide identifying information to mods, file-sharing, fic update promotion etc. So you have to make sure you check the rules and keep track of which group requires what.

But it’s very active and the place where you’ll encounter more discussions of fics, start getting to know people more, and have more one on one interactions. It’s best to start in just one or two and then slowly branch out from there if you choose. I’d recommend starting in groups specific to your ship, or if you write rare-pairs, to join rare-pair oriented groups.

I’m currently a member of more than 25 groups, but I’m active in less than five of them.

Conclusion

Again, this is not intended to be a to-do list. You don’t need to do all of this, or any of it. It’s more a rundown of different elements and factors that can make a difference in my experience and observations.

The thing with fic promotion is that fics sometimes have a tipping point. My fic Manacled crept along with limited engagement for a long time (like more than 30 chapters) and then hit a point where I got a bunch of people who started it leaving comments saying “I’ve seen the updates for this so many times, I finally decide to click,” or “I started this but didn’t think it was for me, but then I saw some of the excerpts for later chapters and they made me curious so I jumped back in again.”

There are some readers who will check out everything regardless of stats, but particularly in Dramione where you have a lot of fics and authors, people are less likely to click every fic they see. You can build recognition through engagement with fandom and visibility.

My very first work-in-progress multichap got a lot more attention after I posted a one-shot that allowed readers to check out my writing in a “lower commitment” context. It wasn’t even a very popular one-shot, but it gave people a chance to read a completed work of mine without requiring the investment that a 90k word WIP did. Once they decided they liked my writing style and characterizations they decided to check out my other works.

Anyway. This ended up incredibly long. 🤦🏻‍♀️

If you read this and have a different opinion or feel like I’ve left anything out, feel free to chime in. Or if you disagree. I am happy to reblog additional and differing perspectives as long as the tone stays civil. 😊

[somekindofharlot]

It’s Kind Of A Funny Story - Shot Analysis

Its Kind Of A Funny Story is a 2010 film directed by Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck focused on teenager Craig Gilner. To make a long story short Craig admits himself into a psychiatric ward after realizing he is suicidal and once getting admitted finds that for some reason the teen wards are closed down so he gets put with the adults, once getting admitted meets people who are worse of than him and after wanting out is forced to stick it out and stay. The film shows the relationships he makes during the week or something that hes there as he bonds with other patients and finds love with Noelle. This entire film feels like the plot of a 2015 wattpad fever dream however is mostly based off of a true story.

Wanted to start out saying that this film was colour graded so nicely, its like the teal/orange overlay that everyone hates but instead it looks nice this time. Starting off this scene I just like how the sign that labels the ‘Adult Psychiatric’ ward and our main character Craigs shirt match, the entire film does amazing with matching Craigs outfit to the scenes which helps hold these really muted tones throughout the film but I just like how they used this match up to perhaps foreshadow the later events in this film (where we watch Craig bond and slowly fit in with the other patients). This shot is paired with a shaky camera which sometimes can look tacky but this time just works and fits well. Can be linked to his ‘unsure’ mindset going into this new environment. idk

This is probably the shot i love the most from here, its actually the shot that drove me to make this blog. This shot is actually gorgeous and it follows after a more lively scene of them playing basketball, the contrast helps emphasis this scene even more. The quiet scene is accompanied with a still handheld camera shot once again and we see that teal/orange colour correction/overlay again. Its nice to see a teal/orange scheme being used well ranter than obliterated with over saturation, the teal/orange scheme also helps support the ‘vintage film camera’ aesthetic that the film holds. The use of blank space in this shot sat really well with me, i don't exactly know why but maybe because you can finally see our main and supporting character (Bobby) have some alone time as the psychiatric ward is always buzzing with patients, even Craigs room couldn't provide him privacy, he has a roommate.

The last shot I chose was this simple shot. At this point in the film Craig walks down the hall to see Bobby and his family arguing through the room window. I believe this shot had some muffled arguing sounds but the framing of the curtains and all helps this feel super invasive and intruding. I think this is fitting due to the fact that im pretty sure the whole reason he is in here is because of family issues* i think don't quote me on that and constantly avoids answering why hes here. To see a glimpse into this part of his life felt slightly illegal.

Overall this film was enjoyable + was visually aesthetic so i give it 7.5 teal/orange overlays out of 10 i really enjoyed this film.

[neo-shitty]

if you’re not interested in reading a long-ass post, here’s a summary of everything you need to know about me aka my carrd.

✧･ﾟ: * ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴍᴇ *:･ﾟ✧ 

 hi, my name’s toffee!

it’s not my real name, but it’s the one i go by on all of my social media accounts related to k-pop. it’s from a NCT fan fic on wattpad named dating hotline and i loved it so much that i stole MC’s nickname (kidding, i messaged the author on twt and she let me use it #flex)

since most of you judge people by their signs, i’m a taurus sun, scorpio moon and libra rising. i’m not sure if i phrased that right but i hope you get something out of that information because i read my natal chart thingy and most (but not all, of course) were accurate.

i’m 18, i talk with mostly no restraint on my blog. i express rage in the form of cussing whether necessary or not so if you’re uncomfortable with that, please do let me know. or don’t follow me at all.

oh, before i forget, @toffeerecs is my library/recommendations blog.

and my networks are: kpopscape, kwritersworld, stayhavens, k-diner, ateez inc., neo-the-stars, stayracha, angstyskz club, and neowritingsnet

✧･ﾟ: * ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ *:･ﾟ✧ 

this blog was originally my personal blog until i got back into kpop in 2020 and discovered the writing communities for kpop fandoms here. i know, there are fic-specific sites like wattpad and ao3 but i liked the tumblr fics more because of the mood boards and aesthetics.

so i revamped this and started writing my own fics. first for ateez, then for stray kids and then nct. i’m still debating whether i’d continue writing for ateez or not since i’m growing quite distant from them.

to get this out of the way, i do not take requests. although i would love to, i’ve discovered—in the past few months that i’ve run this blog—that it doesn’t work for me. though i think most people who make requests are nice, i put a lot of unnecessary pressure on myself when it comes to writing for others. 

i always think that only the best fics deserve to be up on this blog, which is also why most of my fics are stuck in my google docs. my own standards for my own fics are already high and i don’t need other people to add on to it. i hope you understand.

next, angst comes naturally to me while fluff comes in the form of daydreams and scenarios that would never happen to me in real life. i fancy writing other-worldly things and those that are out of what i consider ordinary. thriller books > thriller movies. 

lastly, here’s a link to my masterlist.

✧･ﾟ: * ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ *:･ﾟ✧  

to be honest, trying to contact me here is hopeless. mainly because i’m barely on the app since it crashes a lot and i usually open it just to drop a fic and go. though i pop up every now and then to answer to dms and organize it and scroll a bit before it eventually crashes again.

i want to try that thing with the asks though and i would love anons too. but i barely get any asks which is alright to me too. i think you have better chances of getting answered if you send an ask rather than a dm. so you do that if you wanna chat.

i’m fairly good at conversing. the only problem is i take my sweet ass time to respond. i get anxious when i get notifications and i only reply when i have enough energy to talk and share (like today, which i utilized so i could at least organize this blog). 

please don’t mistake my taking a while to reply as me ignoring you. i like to converse when i’m i have enough headspace to keep a conversation going. though that doesn’t happen often, though (and i think that’s the problem).

all i’m saying is out of all the social media platforms, you have the least chances to contact me here. but i’m on these other ones where i’m a lot more active:

instagram : neoshiitty twitter : neoshiitty

or you could send me a dm and ask for my discord if you really want to chat but i’m not even sure if you read this far.