#It's so very easy to recognize a black fan writing fanfic

[b-rainlet]

Team Green Fans writing about Aegon's abuse and his complicated relationship with his mother: Excellent, brilliant, show-stopping

Team Black Fans writing about the very same thing: *loud booing noises*

[paranormaljones]

I was tagged by @dangerously-human like a month ago I'm so sorry for a fanfic writer tag game, and I finally remembered that I never actually did it!! I'm so bad at these things

1. How did you get into writing fanfiction? I was like 13 I think and I had become a rabid fan of the 2012 TMNT series, and I filled a brightly colored notebook with self-insert TMNT fanfic. 😂 What's funny is that at this time, I didn't even know that the concept of fanfiction existed, and that it was something other people wrote as well. Because I had very little online presence at the time (thank God), so I had no exposure to fanfiction in general. I just thought, "Okay I know this is totally crazy but what I put myself in this story and I was a teenage mutant ninja black panther and Leo was in love with me." I was truly a revolutionary. I didn't discover the massive presence of fanfiction online until about three years later I think, and that was when I started reading Gravity Falls and Miraculous Ladybug fanfics on fanfiction dot net.

2. How many fandoms have you written in? Good question. I haven't published everything for every fandom that I've written in, so some of these just exist in a locked vault inside my brain or in a long abandoned OpenOffice document. Or in a brightly colored houndstooth-patterned notebook. TMNT, Star Wars, Gravity Falls, How To Train Your Dragon, Carmen Sandiego, Stranger Things, Detroit: Become Human, Lockwood & Co., Legends of Avantris, Red Dead Redemption. I feel like there's probably more than that but I can't remember. The ones in green are the ones that I have actually published fic for, though a lot of the older ones have been deleted.

3. How many years have you been writing fanfiction? This is difficult because I haven't been writing fanfiction consistently for very many years at all, but I started writing fanfic like 10 years ago. Somewhat consistently? Like two years. 😂

4. Do you read or write more fanfiction? Very much depends on where I'm at in life and what media I'm currently fixated on, but for a while I've been writing way more than I've been reading. I go through phases of both.

5. What is one way you've improved as a writer? I think my pacing is a lot better than it used to be. I think I've gotten better at rereading what I've written and recognizing where the pacing is off. I often don't have an easy time of fixing it yet, because it's such an odd and abstract concept to nail down, but you can see it when it's wrong. Something I've tried to be very intentional about of late.

6. What's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project? The legal repercussions of assaulting a police officer in Michigan. That was for the Detroit: Become Human fic. 😂

7. What's your favorite type of comment to receive on your work? I LOVE when people pick up on my foreshadowing and start theorizing on various story elements that I haven't revealed yet. That basically only happens with And I Would Stay A While Longer because it's the only one of my fics with a significant amount of intrigue, but it makes me so happy seeing those comments. I love knowing that I've foreshadowed something effectively.

8. What's the most fringe trope/topic you write about? Hmmmmmm . . . is it fringe to write fanfic for a dnd campaign? That's probably the closest thing I have to fringe honestly. And as for fringe tropes, I'm not really sure that my fanfics feature many. My original work, on the other hand . . .

9. What is the hardest type of story for you to write? Stories with large casts, where I have to keep track of a lot of characters. That's exhausting. I don't like it. 😂 I like my stories very intimate. My writing is very character-focused rather than plot-focused, and I like to reserve that focus to as few characters as possible. One of my original works only features two characters throughout the entire story and that's it.

10. What is the easiest type? Intimate, fluffy oneshots. Emotional fulfillment fics. Unsurprisingly.

11. Where do you do your writing? What platform? Back in the day I started out with OpenOffice, then I jumped to Google Docs, then I jumped to Microsoft Word, and that's where I'm at right now. I own Scrivener and I very much want to use it but it intimidates me and I am so bad at learning new software/word processors. 😭

12. What is something that you've been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day? The rest of AIWS 🤣 No but seriously, funny story, I had plans for YEARS to write my own version of Haymitch's Games from The Hunger Games because Haymitch is my favorite character and I was desperate for more of his story, so I compiled a whole document of everything we learned about the 50th Quarter Quell and Haymitch and his family/friends, and that document sat untouched for so long because I was too intimidated to try to write the story . . . and then of course the news came out that Suzanne Collins herself is writing it. And I couldn't be happier. 😂

13. What made you choose your username? My AO3 username is Fox_Autumn. I nicknamed myself after Fox Mulder, and I needed another word to stick on the end of that to make it a valid username. I love autumn, and I thought it sounded pretty so there ya have it.

These were super duper fun!! Thank you so much for the tag!! :DDD 💙💙💙

Tagging with absolutely no pressure: @womaninwinter @nomolosk @argentumcor @krash-8 @celestial-citrus

[qqueenofhades]

Hi. I’m curious. What did you mean by “women who read fiction might get Bad Ideas!!!” has just reached its latest and stupidest form via tumblr purity culture.? I haven’t seen any of this but I’m new to tumblr.

Oh man. You really want to get me into trouble on, like, my first day back, don’t you?

Pretty much all of this has been explained elsewhere by people much smarter than me, so this isn’t necessarily going to say anything new, but I’ll do my best to synthesize and summarize it. As ever, it comes with the caveat that it is my personal interpretation, and is not intended as the be-all, end-all. You’ll definitely run across it if you spend any time on Tumblr (or social media in general, including Twitter, and any other fandom-related spaces). This will get long.

In short: in the nineteenth century, when Gothic/romantic literature became popular and women were increasingly able to read these kinds of novels for fun, there was an attendant moral panic over whether they, with their weak female brains, would be able to distinguish fiction from reality, and that they might start making immoral or inappropriate choices in their real life as a result. Obviously, there was a huge sexist and misogynistic component to this, and it would be nice to write it off entirely as just hysterical Victorian pearl-clutching, but that feeds into the “lol people in the past were all much stupider than we are today” kind of historical fallacy that I often and vigorously shut down. (Honestly, I’m not sure how anyone can ever write the “omg medieval people believed such weird things about medicine!” nonsense again after what we’ve gone through with COVID, but that is a whole other rant.) The thinking ran that women shouldn’t read novels for fear of corrupting their impressionable brains, or if they had to read novels at all, they should only be the Right Ones: i.e., those that came with a side of heavy-handed and explicit moralizing so that they wouldn’t be tempted to transgress. Of course, books trying to hammer their readers over the head with their Moral Point aren’t often much fun to read, and that’s not the point of fiction anyway. Or at least, it shouldn’t be.

Fast-forward to today, and the entire generation of young, otherwise well-meaning people who have come to believe that being a moral person involves only consuming the “right” kind of fictional content, and being outrageously mean to strangers on the internet who do not agree with that choice. There are a lot of factors contributing to this. First, the advent of social media and being subject to the judgment of people across the world at all times has made it imperative that you demonstrate the “right” opinions to fit in with your peer-group, and on fandom websites, that often falls into a twisted, hyper-critical, so-called “progressivism” that diligently knows all the social justice buzzwords, but has trouble applying them in nuance, context, and complicated real life. To some extent, this obviously is not a bad thing. People need to be critical of the media they engage with, to know what narratives the creator(s) are promoting, the tropes they are using, the conclusions that they are supporting, and to be able to recognize and push back against genuinely harmful content when it is produced – and this distinction is critical – by professional mainstream creators. Amateur, individual fan content is another kettle of fish. There is a difference between critiquing a professional creator (though social media has also made it incredibly easy to atrociously abuse them) and attacking your fellow fan and peer, who is on the exact same footing as you as a consumer of that content.

Obviously, again, this doesn’t mean that you can’t call out people who are engaging in actually toxic or abusive behavior, fans or otherwise. But certain segments of Tumblr culture have drained both those words (along with “gaslighting”) of almost all critical meaning, until they’re applied indiscriminately to “any fictional content that I don’t like, don’t agree with, or which doesn’t seem to model healthy behavior in real life” and “anyone who likes or engages with this content.” Somewhere along the line, a reactionary mindset has been formed in which the only fictional narratives or relationships are those which would be “acceptable” in real life, to which I say…. what? If I only wanted real life, I would watch the news and only read non-fiction. Once again, the underlying fear, even if it’s framed in different terms, is that the people (often women) enjoying this content can’t be trusted to tell the difference between fiction and reality, and if they like “problematic” fictional content, they will proceed to seek it out in their real life and personal relationships. And this is just… not true.

As I said above, critical media studies and thoughtful consumption of entertainment are both great things! There have been some great metas written on, say, the Marvel Cinematic Universe and how it is increasingly relying on villains who have outwardly admirable motives (see: the Flag Smashers in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier) who are then stigmatized by their anti-social, violent behavior and attacks on innocent people, which is bad even as the heroes also rely on violence to achieve their ends. This is a clever way to acknowledge social anxieties – to say that people who identify with the Flag Smashers are right, to an extent, but then the instant they cross the line into violence, they’re upsetting the status quo and need to be put down by the heroes. I watched TFATWS and obviously enjoyed it. I have gone on a Marvel re-watching binge recently as well. I like the MCU! I like the characters and the madcap sci-fi adventures! But I can also recognize it as a flawed piece of media that I don’t have to accept whole-cloth, and to be able to criticize some of the ancillary messages that come with it. It doesn’t have to be black and white.

When it comes to shipping, moreover, the toxic culture of “my ship is better than your ship because it’s Better in Real Life” ™ is both well-known and in my opinion, exhausting and pointless. As also noted, the whole point of fiction is that it allows us to create and experience realities that we don’t always want in real life. I certainly enjoy plenty of things in fiction that I would definitely not want in reality: apocalyptic space operas, violent adventures, and yes, garbage men. A large number of my ships over the years have been labeled “unhealthy” for one reason or another, presumably because they don’t adhere to the stereotype of the coffee-shop AU where there’s no tension and nobody ever makes mistakes or is allowed to have serious flaws. And I’m not even bagging on coffee-shop AUs! Some people want to remove characters from a violent situation and give them that fluff and release from the nonstop trauma that TV writers merrily inflict on them without ever thinking about the consequences. Fanfiction often focuses on the psychology and healing of characters who have been through too much, and since that’s something we can all relate to right now, it’s a very powerful exercise. As a transformative and interpretive tool, fanfic is pretty awesome.

The problem, again, comes when people think that fic/fandom can only be used in this way, and that going the other direction, and exploring darker or complicated or messy dynamics and relationships, is morally bad. As has been said before: shipping is not activism. You don’t get brownie points for only having “healthy” ships (and just my personal opinion as a queer person, these often tend to be heterosexual white ships engaging in notably heteronormative behavior) and only supporting behavior in fiction that you think is acceptable in real life. As we’ve said, there is a systematic problem in identifying what that is. Ironically, for people worried about Women Getting Ideas by confusing fiction and reality, they’re doing the same thing, and treating fiction like reality. Fiction is fiction. Nobody actually dies. Nobody actually gets hurt. These people are not real. We need to normalize the idea of characters as figments of a creator’s imagination, not actual people with their own agency. They exist as they are written, and by the choice of people whose motives can be scrutinized and questioned, but they themselves are not real. Nor do characters reflect the author’s personal views. Period.

This feeds into the fact that the internet, and fandom culture, is not intended as a “safe space” in the sense that no questionable or triggering content can ever be posted. Archive of Our Own, with its reams of scrupulous tagging and requests for you to explicitly click and confirm that you are of age to see M or E-rated content, is a constant target of the purity cultists for hosting fictional material that they see as “immoral.” But it repeatedly, unmistakably, directly asks you for your consent to see this material, and if you then act unfairly victimized, well… that’s on you. You agreed to look at this, and there are very few cases where you didn’t know what it entailed. Fandom involves adults creating contents for adults, and while teenagers and younger people can and do participate, they need to understand this fact, rather than expecting everything to be a PG Disney movie.

When I do write my “dark” ships with garbage men, moreover, they always involve a lot of the man being an idiot, being bluntly called out for an idiot, and learning healthier patterns of behavior, which is one of the fundamental patterns of romance novels. But they also involve an element of the woman realizing that societal standards are, in fact, bullshit, and she can go feral every so often, as a treat. But even if I wrote them another way, that would still be okay! There are plenty of ships and dynamics that I don’t care for and don’t express in my fic and fandom writing, but that doesn’t mean I seek out the people who do like them and reprimand them for it. I know plenty of people who use fiction, including dark fiction, in a cathartic way to process real-life trauma, and that’s exactly the role – one of them, at least – that fiction needs to be able to fulfill. It would be terribly boring and limited if we were only ever allowed to write about Real Life and nothing else. It needs to be complicated, dark, escapist, unreal, twisted, and whatever else. This means absolutely zilch about what the consumers of this fiction believe, act, or do in their real lives.

Once more, I do note the misogyny underlying this. Nobody, after all, seems to care what kind of books or fictional narratives men read, and there’s no reflection on whether this is teaching them unhealthy patterns of behavior, or whether it predicts how they’ll act in real life. (There was some of that with the “do video games cause mass shootings?”, but it was a straw man to distract from the actual issues of toxic masculinity and gun culture.) Certain kinds of fiction, especially historical fiction, romance novels, and fanfic, are intensely gendered and viewed as being “women’s fiction” and therefore hyper-criticized, while nobody’s asking if all the macho-man potboiler military-intrigue tough-guy stereotypical “men’s fiction” is teaching them bad things. So the panic about whether your average woman on the internet is reading dark fanfic with an Unhealthy Ship (zomgz) is, in my opinion, misguided at best, and actively destructive at worst.

[therealvinelle]

How do you feel about the Twilight fanfic Luminosity? If you ever read it, that is.

For future reference - while I love dearly to discuss fics, I’m not very keen on giving honest reviews in public. This is because fanfiction is written by internet people who are very fragile more often than not, and I don’t want to risk hurting any feelings. So if people want to know my thoughts on a specific fic, it’s best to DM me for the uncensored ramble.

Now, I haven’t read Luminosity, so this post is based on me poking Google with a stick. And while I don’t have any particular thoughts on the fic itself, I do have thoughts on the genre.

Apparently, Luminosity is Twilight’s answer to Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality. I haven’t read that one either, but @theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin​ summarized it so I know the story well enough. Harry is a child genius who employs the scientific method in his daily life, which changes the timeline dramatically. Luminosity is the same, Bella is now a genius rationalist.

My first thought here is that these kinds of fics, “What if the protagonist was actually smart?” are very hard to pull off because more often than not the author is writing BBC’s Sherlock. Congratulations, the protagonist is now a smarmy asshole, dismissive of characters deemed uncool (in Harry Potter fanfiction this always translates to the Weasleys), and vowing us all with what the author has mistaken for intelligence.

This last bit is my main problem with the genre - I’m promised a highly intelligent protagonist, but the author themselves isn’t intelligent enough to pull it off, or they don’t understand what intelligence is. Yes, I sound like a smarmy asshole saying this, I’m aware of that. I’ll give an example off the top of my head: this one fic where a character was so terrifyingly intelligent, he could take a second long look at a wall and then tell you exactly how many bricks were in it. 

If reading a fic makes you feel like you’re listening to a dudebro point out how dumb the characters in the movie Alien were, or like you’re watching Moffat’s Doctor Who, it’s a BBC’s Sherlock fic. The “I would simply have ___” type of superiority complex smart.

This type of fic is also very dismissive of the characters’ canon counterparts, and again you’re left feeling like some guy cornered you at a party and now you have to listen to how much smarter he is than Agatha Christie. Yes, plot holes and stupid characters not intended to be stupid can sadly be found everywhere in fiction, but fans’ complaints of perceived stupidity are just as often unfair. To take a Twilight example, I’ve seen argued that Carlisle should have claimed plastic surgery to explain his beauty and youth, when the man works in a hospital. Plastic surgery is easily recognized if you know what to look for and medical professionals will spot it instantly. He would never have gotten away with it. (To say nothing of how the CPS would have gotten on his case for performing black market cosmetic procedures on his children.)

This isn’t at all to say that Luminosity is this, or HPMOR for that matter. I haven’t read Luminosity so I couldn’t say, could very well be Bella is in fact brilliant, while HPMOR actually is quite clever (turns out Voldemort’s conquest of Britain was too easy, so he got bored and killed a baby, putting his own horcrux in the child, ensuring he would in time have a worthy opponent. This is why Harry is the way he is). 

The above rant is mostly just me not being a fan of the type of fic, and hoping that Luminosity doesn’t fall into this trap.

[crunkumbee]

Lost In You

Yancy x Reader 

Requests: 

could you write a piece about yancy and y/n in the ending where they stay in the prison and after a while get together and it’s a very sweet and soft? love ur writing xxx 

I heard you want fanfic ideas? If so. May I present the classic jealous Yancy? A new prisoner/guard flirts with the reader? - @just-a-werido 

oh. my god. dancing. with yancy. just. oh my god. please?

Cuddles and stuff because Yancy is baby- @greemany​

Could you write a really fluffy Yancy x reader?? Like maybe they're both super touch-starved and easily flustered and so there's a lot of embarrassed but sweet, blushy cuddles and physical affection??? Sorry if this is a bad ask but I'm just a SLUT for Yancy cuddles thanks friend💕

Can I request a cuddly Yancy x reader where he almost lost her due to a fight between her and one of the guys who thought it be a good idea to mess with his family? Like the gang instantly comes to her aid and Yancy is like ????!!!!!!! and instantly makes sure his baby’s okay? Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Holy goddamn you guys first of all thank you so much I am so honored that you all love my writing and trust me enough to write these!! Second um I kinda went off and shoved all of these together bc I thought they would sound good and yeah also sorry fics have been kinda slow its just been a crazy last couple of weeks with LITERALLY EVERYTHING and dancing yancy?!?!?!? HELL YEAH but please please PLEASE ENJOY FRIENDS LOVE YOU ALL!!!

Tag List: @i-am-a-weeb @arts-of-plenty @gay-matty-boi @brokequeenofcardonia @writer-of-camelot  @pleasedontfollowmeimtrash @bxbamilktae @th3-n3xt-phas3-2 @animals4ever527 @janiceapex @ughsomething​ @go-just-me-fan​ @les-amis-de-l-ab-yeet​ @aheistwithyancy​​

Twelve years with the chance for probation. That’s what you were stuck with. Happy Trails Penitentiary wasn’t what you thought it would be but after what you had done, you were perfectly fine with it.  You weren’t one to talk to new people so when it came time for lunch you sat alone in a corner and prayed that nobody would sit next to you or even look at you. 

The potatoes weren’t the best you had but it was better than you expected and as you were poking at them you didn’t even notice the man that sat next to you. 

“Youse is new here. I’m Yancy,” he extended his hand out to you. “I saw you walk in and thought youse was the best looking person in this joint.” 

“Y/n and I’m sure that seeing somebody new has an affect on who you’re attracted to.”

He chuckled and god damn that was a beautiful sound. 

“Youse might be right. But you should come sit with the rest of us. Hank even has wine for us. 

Your plan was to just sit there in the corner for the next twenty years but when a man as handsome as Yancy asks you to sit at his table, you don’t argue and just go along with it. 

You followed the man to the table with multiple other people and you were instantly overwhelmed once they all started to surround you. 

“Hey fellas, stand back a bit shes new here.”

And so for the next few weeks you sat at the table and the other prisoners became like family to you. You and Yancy had gotten really close. He would spend most of his time with you whenever you could and he had a spare key to all of the cells so some nights you could sneak into one anothers cell. Sure he was attractive but you weren’t anything more than friends and while you would like for there to be more, you were perfectly content with how your life was with him just being a friend.

There weren’t many other new guards or other inmates. But, there was a new guy. His name was Lucas and he just wouldn’t leave you alone. It wasn’t until Yancy said something to him that he kinda backed off but you could still feel his eyes on you.  Three days into his sentence you went to use the restroom during lunch. It wasn’t in the same room as the cafeteria but it was down the hall a ways and since the guards trusted most of the inmates, they would let most of them just go off on their own. As you were walking out of the restroom, Lucas came up behind you and grabbed your hips, only resulting in you pushing yourself off of him.

“What the hell?!?” 

“Come on baby girl you know you liked it. Why would you want some pansy like him when you could have all of this.” 

“Fuck you!” you yelled at him before punching him in the throat. You wanted to go for the face but he was a lot taller and a hell of a lot bigger than you were and there was no way you would have reached even if you had wanted to. 

“Bitch,” he backhanded you and your face hit the concrete wall. “Kick her ass.” Lucas said to the two people who then walked out from around the corner. Of course they were both women and twins. 

“Too big of a bitch to fight me yourself Lucas?” If he replied you couldn’t hear it because the woman on your left with short black hair punched you followed by the other one with long brown hair that was tied back kicking you in the stomach. It took you a moment to shake it off but you soon got in with the rhythm of their movements and while you were taking an ass beating at least you were able to fight back. At least you wouldn’t be the only one bleeding. 

You had been gone for too long and while the gang told him that everything was fine, Yancy just couldn’t shake the feeling that you were in some kind of trouble. 

“Hey Tiny, can youse come with me to check on y/n?” 

“Sure thing Yancy.” 

Together they walked out into the hallway where the restrooms were and sure enough there was Lucas laughing as two women were fighting you. You were holding your own well but you were outnumbered. 

“I’ll help y/n boss go get that asshole.” 

Yancy nodded and sure enough Tiny was taking care of the brown haired woman while you focused in on the other one. Now that she didn’t have her partner, it was a lot easier to take her on. 

“Hey Lucas! I know youse have a problem with me so let's take care of it right here, right now.” 

“I’m not going to fight you. You’re not worth the waste of breath. And neither is y/n.” 

He could have said whatever he wanted about him but the second that he brought you into it, Yancy lost his cool. Nobody could get away with having people attack you then talk shit about you. Yancy didn’t think before he clocked Lucas in the face and he fell to the ground. Yancy was about to advance on the fallen man before he heard your voice.

“Yance, don’t. He’s not worth it.” 

He looked over and saw you bruised and bleeding. You and Tiny had managed to knock down and keep the other two women down. It was then that Yancy decided not to murder the man on the ground. Seeing his way out Lucas got up and walked down towards his cell.

“Come here sweetheart.” You started to walk towards him and he met you halfway. He walked you to the guard where Tiny told them everything that happened. Yancy walked you to the infirmary but it just so happened to be the nurses birthday so she wasn’t there so instead Yancy grabbed things that looked like they would be of use and walked back to his cell which was closer than yours. Jimmy followed you both and once you sat on his bed and Yancy put all the supplies next to you he went out of the small cell to talk to Jimmy. The other man nodded before walking off and Yancy came back to you. 

“Okay this isn’t going to feel good but just know that I’m not tryin to hurt you.” 

“I know you wouldn’t try to Yance. Just get it over with.” 

Other than you occasionally wincing when he would put peroxide on the cuts on your face (and him apologizing every time) he was gentle. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner for youse. I should have been there to help you otherwise youse wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

“Yance. Don’t try to blame yourself for what happened to me. You and Tiny came to help me before it got worse and that’s all that matters.” you put your hand on his and neither of you were used to the closeness that you were both currently at but all that either of you knew was that you liked it. 

“Let me put these bandages on you. Just be still.” 

As he put them on your face you could smell the sweet prison cologne that they gave them and for some reason it smelled better on him than it did anybody else. 

Suddenly there was music playing throughout the hallway. It was usual for this to happen and the warden liked to have music on once in awhile. 

“Do youse know how to dance?” 

“What? Oh no! I’ve never had the chance to learn.” 

“Well there’s no better time than the present.”

He extended his hand out to you and for a moment you hesitated. You weren’t used to so much and prison wasn’t the place that you thought that you would find a family but here you were, learning how to dance with the most handsome guy in the joint. It wasn’t what you were expecting when you got 20 years for arson but now that you were here and in the moment, it was nice. 

As you took his hand and stood in the cell with the soft love song that you didn’t recognize playing over the speakers you realized that this was the place for you. 

“Just let me show youse what to do and follow my lead.” 

He carefully and cautiously to his shoulders and placed his hands on your waist. And when he started to move you followed and it soon became easy to follow. 

You looked into his soft brown eyes and smiled and that’s when the moment of realization hit him, there’s nobody else for him. The way that something as small as dancing with him made you so happy and brought out the beautiful smile of yours, and if all of that could make his heart melt then there was no person he would rather be with. 

Just when he thought the moment couldn’t get any better, you rested your head on his chest. It was now or never. 

“Hey, uh, y/n?” 

“Yeah Yance?” “What would you-, uh see I kinda-”

You knew what he was saying and didn’t need anymore confirmation than what he was giving you in that moment. You moved your hand from his shoulder to the back of his neck to push his lips to yours. His lips were softer than you could have ever imagined and he was thinking the same thing. 

You pulled away and looked him in his puppy dog eyes, “I didn’t think youse would like somebody like me but I’ve been lost in you since the day you showed up.” 

“I was going to say the same thing about you.” 

“If I talked to the warden, would youse like to share a cell so we don’t have to sneak around every night?” 

“If he allows that, I would love to.” 

“Good because I talked to him this morning and he says that as long as we don’t get into a fight with each other then he doesn’t care.” 

[angelicwolf98]

Dark Anticipations

A/N: This is my first time posting fanfic on here so please go easy on me. I wrote this almost two years ago, so, for now, it's unedited. My writing has greatly improved since then, so I want to see what people think of the story and see if it’s worth rewriting or not.

Pairings: platonic!Mark x OC, platonic!Jack x OC

Warnings: mild violence

Pain.

That’s the first thing my brain is able to register as I slowly regain consciousness. A dull, throbbing pain that reverberates throughout my skull.

What happened? Where am I?

Then I hear the voices. Fear grips my heart at the realization that I’m not alone. Continuing to feign sleep, I do my best to listen in on the conversation, hoping it could shed some light on what the heck’s going on.

There are two voices, both male. One voice has a deep baritone, while the other is more high pitched with an accent that I can’t quite place. These voices sound so familiar, yet I can’t put my finger on where I’ve heard them before.

“How long do you think she’ll be asleep?” the accented voice asks.

“I don’t know,” the deep voice responds. “From what I can tell, she took a pretty hard hit to the head, so she may be out a while.”

“I just don’t understand why they brought her here. I mean, what do they want with a freaking kid?”

The deep voice sighed, “Your guess is as good as mine.”

A sudden wave of intense pain shoots through my head, causing me to involuntarily groan.

“I think she’s waking up,” the accent says.

“Hey, are you okay?”

A large hand is placed on my arm, startling me. I quickly sit up and crawl backward as fast as I can until a wall prevents me from moving any further.

“Whoah, hey! Easy, easy. It’s all right, we’re not gonna hurt you,” the deep voice says.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm my pounding heart, I finally focus on these two strangers. The minute I look up at them, my jaw drops. I now realize why their voices had sounded so familiar; it’s because I know exactly who these guys are. I mean, how could I not! I watch their Youtube videos every single day!

I glanced at the man to my left. He had dark brown hair that was flipped to the side, facial hair that was more stubble than anything else, and bright brown eyes that were filled with concern. He had tan skin, and his facial features suggested that he was probably part Asian. He was pretty built, but his muscles seemed relaxed, and his hands were slightly raised in a non-threatening way.

Focusing on the other man, I can tell that he’s slightly built too, even though he’s much skinnier than his friend. His dark brown hair is similar to the other guy’s, except it’s more spiked at the top. This man’s facial hair is more grown out, but not to the extent of being called an actual beard. He has pale, white skin, and cerulean blue eyes that are also filled with concern.

“Are you okay, lass?” the pale guy asks in his accent.

Lass…

His accent…

It’s Irish…

I mentally slap myself for not recognizing this sooner. Still gaping at these two men, I struggle to find my voice.

“Y-you’re, you’re Markiplier…” I stutter towards the Asian. “And you’re… Jacksepticeye…” I look at the Irish man in awe. Their concern soon turns into surprise.

“So… you do know who we are?” Jack asks. I can only nod. Of course, I know who they are! They’re two of the biggest names on Youtube! Well, on the gaming side of Youtube, anyway.

As the shock of seeing my two idols finally wore off, my mind was immediately bombarded with a million questions. What are they doing here? What am I doing here? Where exactly is “here”?

I glance around to find that we’re in some kind of filthy, dank holding cell. The only piece of furniture is an equally filthy single mattress that lays at my feet. I’m guessing that’s where I’d been laying only a few minutes before. I see a rusted bed frame in the far corner, which is probably where the mattress came from. Seeing just how aged and fragile the metal looked, I can understand why they would choose to lay on the floor instead of the bed.

“I know you probably have a lot of questions,” Mark speaks up, “and I promise we’ll answer as much as we can. Is it all right if we sit with you?” He asks this hesitantly, and I can tell he’s trying his best to show he means me no harm. I hesitantly nod, and they both sit on either side of me.

I don’t know how long we sat there talking, but what I do know is that as time passed, I began to feel more comfortable around them, more…safe. I told them that my name was Hailey Peters and I had just turned fifteen only two weeks prior. I explained that all I could remember was that I went for a walk after being cooped up inside all day due to a heavy snow closing school. I slipped on some ice, hit my head, and before everything went dark, I had seen two pairs of glowing eyes looking down at me.

Mark and Jack tensed as I said that. I looked up at them, seeing the distress in their eyes.

“You know who brought us here, don’t you?”

Mark sighed, “You wouldn’t believe us.”

“Try me.”

“You know our evil alter egos, that the fans made up and we brought them to life in our videos?” Mark asked.

I nodded. I knew all about Jack’s and Mark’s demonic alter egos, or better known as Antisepticeye and Darkiplier.

“Well, somehow, they’re real…and they’re the ones who took us…” Jack continued.

I let this new information sink in. Dark and Anti are real… and they kidnapped us… no. No no no no no. Heck no!

I stood up and faced the two Youtubers.

“Look, I may be one of those fangirls that squeals every time Dark or Anti makes an appearance in your videos, but I know fact from fiction!” I started rambling, “I mean, what is this, a fanfic! There’s no way Darkiplier and Antisepticeye are real!”

“Oh, but my dear, we are very real.”

I froze as a deep, demonic voice spoke behind me. Mark and Jack jumped up quickly, their eyes wide with fear as they stared at the figure behind me. I slowly turned around and came face to face with not one, but two demonic beings. The very beings that I didn't believe existed until now… Darkiplier and Antisepticeye.

They looked completely identical to Mark and Jack, but at the same time, were completely different. Dark was clad in his usual attire of a white dress shirt and grey suit, which matched his deathly grey skin. Anti wore black torn jeans and a black t-shirt that was stained with the blood that dripped from the slit in his throat. His pasty, white skin had a greenish hue to it, while Dark was surrounded by a blue and red aura of light.

I gasped in fear and began to back away from the demons before I felt a firm hand grip my shoulder and pull me backward. The next thing I know, Mark was standing in front of me, shielding me from Dark’s piercing red eyes. Jack moved forward a bit, trying to keep his counterpart’s malicious green eyes on him instead of me.

I was silently grateful for them attempting to keep me out of harm’s way, even though we had just met. Because I knew very well what these alter egos were capable of, and the fact that they were alive terrified me.

“Ḑ̣̔̄ò̘̐ͅ ̫͚̀̕y̖̭͆͗ỏ̠̣́û̘̞́ ̣̙̂̆b̛̫̱̆ė̢͍̈́l̳̰͂͠ì̝͖̾e̪̲͂̓v̜̲́̓e̱͚͂͒ ̟̥̀͛w̬͖͒̈́ĕ̼͙͋'̞̼̈́́r̬̻̒̔e̝̱͊͠ ͖͓̇͝ŕ̯͆͜e͚͓̅͊a͕̘͌̈́l̩̙̎͝ ̨̗̍͐n̛͔̩̆o̩̙̾̽ẉ̬̂͐,͍̈́̉ͅ ̫̳̇̊H̥̤̄͘a̩͇͛̚i̳̘̊̊l̫̜̅͝e͈͚͆̈́ý̢̗͐?” Anti asked with a psychotic smile.

My heart skipped a beat at the fact he knew my name. Jack placed his hands on my shoulders as Mark kept his stance between me and the demons, both men's eyes never leaving the glares of their egos.

“What do you want, Dark?” Mark finally asked.

Dark smirked, “I thought it would be obvious. We’re here for the girl.”

My body shook with fear, and I felt Jack’s grip tighten on my shoulders.

“Over our dead bodies,” Jack growled.

The demons chuckled. “W̲̑e͊ͅ'̱͑l̼̽l̝̕ ͓̐g̈́͜l̮̉a͎̿d̙̔l͙͝y̰͠ ̫͛t͚̋a̠͋k͙̎ẽ̱ ̖̈́ṷ͛p̲̊ ̪̎ṭ̀h͇̑ḛ̀ ̡͆o̖͗f̠͒f̛̹e̮̕r̂͜…”

“Once our plan is complete.”

Dark flicked his hand, sending Mark and Jack flying across the cell. They slammed against the wall, Jack slid to the ground while Mark crashed into the old bed frame, causing it to completely fall apart. Before I could even react, Dark and Anti grabbed my arms and dragged me away. I kicked and screamed, fighting with all my might, but it was no use. I was powerless against these two demons.

“Hailey!!”

I heard my name echo through the hallway as Mark and Jack threw themselves at the cell bars, all the while yelling threats and curses at the demons. Dark and Anti took no acknowledgment of it as the dragged me into a room and tied me to a chair. By this point, I was crying, my anxiety spiking to new heights.

“What do you want with me?!”

Anti chuckled maliciously, “Y͋͜ó̭u͕̔ ̢̈s̢͂ȇ̲e̬̾,̠͝ ̭̽ḱ̪ĩ̢t̫͊t̮̓e͍͗n̦̐,” I cringed at that nickname, “ĕ͉v̘́e̱̓n̰͠ ̣̅t͔͆h͓͂o̭̚u̝͆g̤͠h̛͕ ͈́ẅ́ͅe̠͂ ̥̌a̬̋r̨̅e̠̋ ̥̀o̤̾ư̫r̨̂ ̻̂o̺͐w̼͝n̡͊ ̺̉ḇ̈́e̥͝ǐ̠ñ͓ǵ͜ŝ͕,o͆ͅů̗ṟ̆ ̼̈́ẽ̢s̺̓s̡̚e̩̽n͇̋c̤̈́e̝̾ ̣͐ị̌s͚̃ ̙͑ŝ̟t̯̾ȋ͖l̐ͅl̰̎ ̮̄c̞̈́o͓̔ṇ̽n̦̅e̦͂ç͝t͉̃e̺̎ḍ̓ ͂ͅt̠̽o͌ͅ ͉̉t̠̾h̖͊o̯͆ş̐e̛ͅ ̧̓m͕̋o̤͛r̞̄o̭͆ṅ̢s̝͗.W͐ͅh͚̉ḯ̗c̼͂h̻̀ ̲̕m̹͒e͙͛a̺͑ň͕s̟̓ ̦͐ị̚f̥͗ ̜̆t͖̓h̭͑e̠͌y̼͝ ̻̍d̼͒ì̻ẹ̉…”

“…we die.” Dark continued. “While we can hurt them all we want, we can’t kill them without killing ourselves. So to free us of this, we need the blood of our makers, and the essence of an untainted soul.” Dark smirked at the as my mind struggled to wrap around this information. They needed my soul… They were going to take my soul…

“Ẇ͙e͑͜'̺͗v̜͐ë͓́ ̧͝n͎̑e̖͊v̝̏e̜̚ȓ͚ ͕͝s̲͠e̜̾ẻ̱ṅ̞ ͍͝s͓̅ō̼m̱̈́ė̝ō̜ṇ́e̪̾ ̦͋s̪̚o̪̓ ͖͐p̡̈́u̖̅r̯͝e͔̾,” Anti said as he scraped his fingernails across the blade of a very large knife. Dark slowly walked behind me as Anti continued to speak, “I̲͌t͎̑ ̜͘w͙̚ȃͅs̱̎ ̣̇a̺̎l̼̒l̦͝ ̐ͅs̨̑o̼̒ ̬̈p̲̈́e͕̍r͕͌f̣̄e̼̋č͚t̳̍,̬͂ ͚̋u̦̓ś̢ ̫͒f̺͐i̧̓n͚͋d̮͘i͕̎ñ͍g̬̽ ̰͠t͖̚h̡̍ḛ̆ ̳́v͍̎é̥r͍̾y̘͝ ͙̃t̯̆h̫͝ĭ̞n̡̕g̜̐ ̦͐w͙͐e̼͘ ͓͐ṉ̉ě̳e̝̓d̟͐e̝̔ď̥ ͎̊m͔̂o̫͝s̡̏ẗ̺́.”

“And now, we can finally be free.” Dark was now standing behind me. He gripped my hair painfully tight and yanked my head back, exposing my neck. Anti walked towards me, an insane glint in his green eyes as he raised the blade. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing that there was no escape. Just as I felt the cool metal touch my delicate skin, a loud bang filled the room.

“W̧̊h̗̿à̤t͖̄ ̧̎t̮̄h͍̎e̝̒—”

I opened my eyes just in time to see Jack smack Anti across the face with a metal pipe. He fell to the ground.

“How did you—” Before Dark could finish, Mark tackled him to the ground and stabbed him in the chest with a knife he had grabbed off the wall. Mark began untying my hands from behind me while Jack worked at the ropes around my feet.

“How’d you get out?” I asked as the astonishment wore off.

“Took a screw from the bed frame. Picked the lock,” Jack huffed breathlessly.

Suddenly, I saw movement behind him. Just as I yelled in warning, Anti lunged at Jack and pinned him to the ground. Jack used all his strength to hold Anti’s arm back, which still held the knife. Mark freed my hands and rushed to help his friend as I finished untying my feet. Once I was finally free, I looked up to see Anti lying on the ground with his very own knife protruding from his chest. Before I could say anything, Mark grabbed my hand and we all bolted out the door, ran through the maze of hallways, and finally found the exit. But we didn't stop there.

Once we were outside, we continued to run, trying to put as much distance between them and us. We kept running until we couldn't run anymore. By the time we stopped, the building we had escaped was miles away. All three of us collapsed as we caught our breath. It was only now that I realized we’re in the middle of a forest.

“Hailey, are you okay?” Jack asked breathlessly. I looked at him with tired eyes.

“I-I don’t know…” I then told the boys everything that had occurred while we were separated. When they heard about the demons’ plan, their faces fell in defeat. I knew what they were thinking. As long as Dark’s essence is attached to Mark’s, and Anti’s to Jack’s, then they weren’t really dead. They’d be back, and probably very ticked off.

Mark hoisted himself up. “Come on, we should keep moving. Who knows how long we have before…” He trailed off, but Jack and I both knew what he meant. We were all thinking it. We may have escaped, and we may be safe. But the question was, for how long?

[jimlingss]

pt.2 of yesterday

I don’t want to flood people’s dashes, so hopefully answering your messages here will suffice!

anonymous asked: Hi! I wanted to tell you how much I love your work and how you make me enjoy every Monday thanks to your regular updates ! I saw a previous anon telling you how your writings lacks of emotion and I totally disagree with them... obviously everybody won’t like it but your stories just DON’T lack of love or emotion this is madness I want to thank you for publishing your amazing stories freely here for everyone to read. (Sorry if my English is weird I’m french ejfjekfjd)

“this is madness” LOL

You’re hilarious, anon. And your english is perfectly fine!!!

anonymous asked: Hello! Im the culinary student anon who sent you an ask a while ago and i saw you received an ask about the lack of emotion from your stories. I read kitchen romance and i actually really really like it and don’t quite understand how it lacks in emotions as I interpreted the stories more like the beginning of the oc and jin’s love story and they are only starting to open up to each other so i guess thats why anon might feel like it lacks romantic vibe from both of the characters. (1)

Anonymous said: Just want to tell you that you’re one of the best writer and ive been following you for 2/3 years now, you never failed to amaze me with your writings!! All your stories are so well written that i sometimes wonder how do you come up with such an amazing plot every single time and your stories are always nice to re-read and the effort you pour into creating your stories is also admirable (2)

while i was reading kitchen romance and ive only started s&c (currently on chapter 4) i can say that its pretty similar with how it is irl (and the part where we find out jk is an iu fans reminded me of my ex-crush whose also a culinary student, i would like to tell you a story about it but ill just waste your time lol) , just want to send you a few encouragement and love for you and your writings *sending virtual hugs* (3) -👩🏻‍🍳anon

You’re too kind, thank you (and also, welcome back!). I’ll be frank, there was a hot second I was considering taking down Kitchen Romance but I didn’t cause I don’t want my efforts of editing it to go to waste asdfghjkl. I can’t believe you’ve been sticking around me for so long :’) it’s always nice to know some folks stay. Anyway, I’m glad that Sugar and Coffee is pretty similar to how it works irl since I tried my best to do research. I definitely love a good storytime as well so don’t worry about wasting my time :>

Anonymous said: a good majority of your fics display an unfathomable amount of DEPTH. regarding character development. plot. even the shortest lines of dialogue reveal so much more to the character and unveil their true emotions. i personally think the more REALISTIC side of love may be perceived as 'bland.' ‘emotionless.’ whatever you want to call it. nothing’s wrong with portraying a relationship that isn’t overboard with a whole lot of tooth aching fluff or lowkey annoying pda. +1

Anonymous said: there’s nothing wrong with taking out a bit of emotion to fit the PERSONALITIES of the characters. some people out there don’t necessarily feel a lot of emotions. so it’s honestly not really a mistake if a story lacks it (unless it was unintentional). subtlety is an art that is hard to master, but you’ve done it! and to respond to the anon, sometimes, if you skim through a fic without reading every word the author intended for you to read, +2

Anonymous said: then it’s quite common to not feel the full extent of the emotions you were supposed to feel. just a thought but no hate. we’re all entitled to our opinions. but besides that, kina, you write on a vast scale ranging from hardcore angst to diabetes-inducing fluff. and you do it beautifully. sure there are some stories that are better than others, but i believe a LOT of it comes down to personal preference and taste. +3

Anonymous said: even if you are feeling creatively limited, you work hard to continue writing for your readers, and your determination and diligence wILL NOT GO UNNOTICED. i just want you to know that you write amazingly. your syntax is practically immaculate, your characters feel real… the endings of your stories always wrap something up and the strings are tied—even if it isn’t necessarily a happy ending. you can convey hundreds of different characters through WORDS. +4

Anonymous said: i’ll have you know that it’s hard to write. it’s even harder to write about people who aren’t YOU. so as someone who looks up to you a lot, i want to commend you for your writing. some of your fics that i read on a monthly basis: tears of a villain, a piece of the moonlight, head over heels to hell, ghost in the machine, a mark of betrayal, a kiss of poison, until yesterday, the truth between us and arcadia. +5

Anonymous said: to be fair, there were way more fics but i didn’t want to make this message any longer than it already is LOL. i find these pieces wonderful. heart wrenching. and SO DAMN EMOTIONAL IT PLAGUES MY MIND FOR DAYS. also you’re literally one of the few fucking people who can use the em dash correctly. thank you so much for sharing your talent with us! +6

Oh my goodness. I don’t even know what to say, anon. This is a whole damn thesis and it’s about my fics :’> You know, it’s easy to brush off fanfiction as a ‘whatever’ thing and indeed, it isn’t that big of a deal compared to some things in the world. But I really do take all my stories seriously and put forth a lot of effort - so to see it recognized and appreciated it makes me beyond happy. It’s good to know that my efforts haven’t gone to waste at all and that there are people out there who will support me no matter the endeavours I take. Thank you so much. You don’t know how much this means to me.

((Also, honestly I picked up the em dash usage after I wrote The Truth Between Us with gukyi who used it. I’m pretty sure I’m not using it right but to hear that I am, god damn that’s a breath of relief right there))

backtobleuside submitted: Are you kidding me!? Your stories don’t lack love at all. They’re the kind of fics that you read, soak it all in and then come back for more. I’ve cried so much when I read Beyond reach, Boo-lieve in me, A piece of the moonlight, His name, Tell me lies etc. etc, and also laughed and felt the emotions of not just the OC, but also the other characters. Kitchen Romance was also so fluffy and sweet and personally, I don’t think that anything needs to be added to it. Anyway, your fics do not lack emotion—you’re probably the first author I send a message to because your stories impacted me a lot and left a strong impression on me. I even imagine your characters as real people who have real lives that continue on even after the story is done.

asdfghjkl thank you :’) I see you every week and sometimes several times at that. I really appreciate your consistent feedback and following. You never fail to send me a message too which I appreciate a lot. I’m glad you’re enjoying everything I’m producing!!

youngfleurever said: Would just like to say that your fics do in fact make me violently sob to the boy where my eyes are so swollen I have trouble opening them the next day and I wake up feeling like there’s sawdust in my mouth because I’m dehydrated.

oh my god. please keep yourself hydrated hahahahhaha more importantly, how do you know what sawdust in your mouth is like. WHAT have you been doing LOL

Anonymous said: I’ve felt emotions that I’ve never felt before when I read your fics.... so as a person that has read your entire masterlist, I DO NOT think that your fics lack emotion.... I hope you don’t feel disheartened because you’re one of my favourite writers, not just on tumblr but like, evER 💓💓💓💓💓💓

Please, even if I was disheartened, the overwhelming amount of feedback and praise has completely overridden it :’)

joonie-mono said: when tumblr deletes the first part of your ask 🙄😌✌️

LOOOOOOOL

haylo4ever said: Sorry had to add my 10 cents. You're such a talented writer,,, I WISH I could write a smol smol 1/1000000000 that you write,,, like I remember when I followed you bc I was in awe of your writing.... I mean?? Sure maybe not every fic hits it with someone but it's just ridic to name drop (a friend nonetheless) when you're all extremely talented writers.

Trust me, writing comes with practice!! I should honestly just tattoo that on me. God knows my first fanfic was absolutely GARBAGE. I didn’t know pacing, didn’t know that I should separate chunks of paragraphs, how to write dialogue or describe scenes properly. I went in blind. Even my second, third and fourth fanfic was garbage. You could definitely get to “my level” or even far surpass it with enough dedication and practice. I mean I’ve been writing for four years, so thank GOD there’s been improvement. I wouldn’t be natural if there wasn’t. But clearly the more you practice, the better you improve! That applies to anything.

The me in ten years will certainly be better now.

Anonymous said: Hi kina! I’m here in support of kitchen romance! I actually didn’t feel like it was missing a ton of fluffy moments (and I say that as a huGE LOVER OF FLUFF) but the story was just as entertaining in the whole chase of them getting closer to each other! It’s honestly one of my favorite one shots I’ve read lately and I’m not saying that lightly! Also, that anon that said your work lacks emotion has probably not read like half of your masterlist bc oO MAN QUEEN OF MAKING ME CRY- black heart anon🖤

Thank you :’]

Anonymous said: Ok I’m very offended wow the audacity!Specially coming for my baby kitchen romance like that story made me feel so much and it’s only one of the many fics you have written kina like I’m literally baffled like dynasty has made me cry scream happy and hot all at the same time and I was literally just thinking about it that whole weekend and this anon has the nerve to say your stories lack emotions?When you are literally the queen of show casing all types of emotions in your stories!You did it all

Anonymous said: Also 😭😭😭😂😂😩hoooooooow and whereeee did they see any lack of love and emotions like have you read jungle park???? Inside my mind??? FREAKING SUGAR AND COFFEE (like this fic is made with love and I- ) Actually you know what , just read the whole masterlist😩😩💗💗💗

LOL tbh I didn’t expect Dynasty to receive the love it has. I was actually kind of wary when posting it cause it’s kind of Wild. 

bangtans-peaceful-piegon said: just gotta say u handled that whole anon thing so well which not only makes me admire u as a writer but even more as a person :] (i mean i knew u were gr8 before the whole deal but yeah love ya 💛)

tbh, I’m not sure how well I handled it cause I was flooded with over 30 messages afterwards (evidently) ;_; which I love and appreciate but I’m not really as hurt as some people think hahaha criticism should be received well but it’s still hard not to take personally tbh. It’s gonna have to be something I work on or perhaps it’ll be one of those things that I’ll take better with age.

[hjertetssunnegalskap1]

The Skamdom, the good parts and bad parts and what to do with it

I love Skam. The Skam fandom has been and still is, joy in so many ways. It’s amazing to meet other fans who love the show and love everything connected to it. The Skamdom has been more than a weird obsession, it has given me a feeling of family and friendship, too. I have learned a lot about myself and my own prejudices and about my identity and preferences. Skam has been an inspiration to create fanwork, I have gotten lots of positive feedback and it has helped me to have fun with creating stuff again.

However, I have discovered that there are some parts of the fandom that are quite toxic. Yeah, I know, water is wet, hah. I guess it’s well known that there are negative sides to all fandoms. I’m pretty new to fandom life, though, and I suppose it has taken time to get fully aware of how bad things can get. Skam has a positive underlying message, after all, and I have often thought that it “should be too good for hate like this.” Well, it isn’t. We all know it. It’s even possible that parts of Skam somehow ignite certain forms of toxic fandom processes, too, although I have no idea what that could be. Could it be that the show feels so real? That the characters are so young? That the show handles important issues? I really don’t know, but I would love to hear all the theories. 

Anyway, I have noticed that even though people spreading hate usually are a small fraction of the fandom, they have the power to do significant damage. Hate drives people out of ships, and out of the fandom. Hate makes fanfic writers stop writing and artists stop making art. Fans are being frozen out or silenced because they have the wrong opinion.This is sad, and the worst part is, that it has happened more than once.

What makes a fandom toxic, then? Why does it happen in the first place? And what can we do about it? I have tried to read up on some ideas about it and mixed it with some of my own thoughts about group processes. I won’t pretend to know anything about fandom life previous to Skam or on earlier fandom sites, but I would like to say something about the things I do know of. The reason I write this is purely selfish, by the way. I need to understand this. The Skam fandom is constantly evolving (as it probably should) and I need to keep my own fandom experience good, and to do that, I need to get what this negativity is all about, and how to deal with it.

So, what is it about?

First of all, I should mention that I’m kinda hesitant about talking about good vs. bad fandom behaviour. Life isn’t black or white like that and I don’t like to describe processes as if they were. However, there are fandom actions that are bad, and toxic, and I think it can be useful to talk about it in the open. Just remember that I’m not trying to call out anyone here. I think we’re all more or less guilty of negative fandom behaviour.

When I start to talk about what is toxic in a fandom, I suppose it can be smart to start with what it isn’t. Well, obviously, sharing your love for something isn’t. Also, I think that fans disagreeing and discussing stuff isn’t toxic. Making arguments for what you think is a good thing, just as expressing how you feel about something, or critiquing something constructively. Open discussions keep the fandom alive. Talking is good!!!  

Attacking others with threats or extreme actions, however, not so much. Here are some examples of what I think are toxic sides of the fandom: 

Possessiveness: some fans feel like they own the content they're fans of, that it belongs to them, and only to them. Fans are stalking the actors, for instance, and trying to control them. Sending hate and threats to Henrik’s girlfriend, is a good example. Or spreading hate about Tarjei when he withdrew from some fans and sat boundaries for them. Ulrikke has experienced a lot of hate because she doesn’t follow the wishes of some fans, as well. 

What if the actors or creators do some really shitty things? What if they express prejudices or ignorance or maybe they do something they shouldn’t do? Well, it’s not possessive to point out that the creators or actors do shitty things. It’s possessive to try to control them.

I suppose a lot of fans can feel a hint of possessiveness at times. Like, when someone expresses “I almost don’t want this fandom to grow bigger, I want it to stay our small precious treasure”. It doesn’t have to be harmful, only if the fans exclude others or act in a harmful way because of it.

Entitlement: some fans think that the creators must do what they want. For example, the fans may demand a particular romantic pairing or 'ship' to happen in a show, and be furious enough to send death threats to the authors if this doesn't happen.

Everyone can get disappointed in things happening, of course, and expressing that is okay. But there’s a difference between expressing disappointment and spreading hate. 

Feeling superior: some fans feel superior to more casual fans, and shout loudly about it. Or they feel better than other fractions of the fandom. Some fans might not feel superior, but maybe special. They have their self-concept shaped by the fact that their fandom makes them an outcast. Maybe they even feel bullied. But in some cases, they are the ones who hate on others for things they like. This can often end in fan wars (”this remake is better than that”). 

I think a feeling of “others don’t get this show like we do” is familiar to many in the fandom and in many different groupings. I can’t say that I have felt superior in any way, but

I have at least once expressed my opinions on characterization in a way that other fans found offensive. 

Us and them: This toxic culture of possessiveness, entitlement and feeling superior develops in so-called “internet echo chambers”, spaces where dissenting opinions are not tolerated. This means the group has a conformist mentality and everything is about “us” and “them”. 

Outsiders are usually rudely educated or just simply banned. This conflict creates a sense of self and community that is tied to the in-group, the 'safe haven' of the fan community. Online, these groups pat each other on the back for liking the right version of the show, or the right ship or whatever, and not only that, but having the group's particular opinions on it, and for participating in conventions, contributing art and fan fiction, and so on. 

Losing their identity: When people are part of a group, they often experience a loss of self-awareness. They are less likely to follow normal restraints and inhibitions and more likely to lose their sense of individual identity. Groups can generate a sense of emotional excitement, which can lead to behaviours that a person would not typically engage in if alone.

I think a lot of fans can recognize this feeling of getting swept away with some amazing ideas in a group. When it leads to spreading hate, it becomes toxic.  

Addiction: People also get addicted to the attention and validation these online niches can give them, especially if the outside world is less friendly. That leads them to extreme in-group loyalty and extreme out-group hatred. They can get so caught up in their fandom that they stop caring about people outside of it.

And yeah, uhm. I can actually recognize the addictive part of fandom life. I need to check Tumblr and AO3 every day, for instance, as well as check in on fandom friends. I live for every kudos or like I get on the things I make. I know, addiction is maybe not toxic for others than yourself, but I still wanted to add it. Addiction can also lead to toxic behaviour towards others in the fandom. 

So... What to do, then?

It’s not easy to handle these things. One problem is that attempting to confront toxic fandom processes results in the groups withdrawing into their echo chambers and feeling superior. I have tried once or twice to answer hate like that with reasoning but often it’s mostly to sort my own thoughts on the subject (I think better in writing). I have rarely experienced to get through to anyone. 

Sometimes, or pretty often, ignoring toxic behaviour might be best. Confrontation may just result in circular arguments, after all. If you ignore the behaviour, you're not giving it attention. Also, you can let them think what they want to think. You can block, delete, or ignore negative people or behaviour on most social media networks. I have filtered and blacklisted words on Tumblr and it has helped a lot. That’s maybe one of my best tips. Scroll past stuff that isn’t for you. Remember the phrase “don’t like, don’t read.” Make the content that you’re passionate about. Talk about the things you love. Share your opinions. Focus on the stuff that makes you happy. That’s my goal, anyway.

When should you confront someone, then? My opinion is that it can be okay to confront if they're going beyond simply having an opinion, into the world of threats, harassment, and stalking. When the stuff being said can be hurtful or discriminating, too. Then it’s right to both confront and report, really.

Is this fandom stuff worth all this hassle?

I hope this long rant doesn’t bring you down too much. Despite all of this negativity, I believe fandom is a very positive thing. Most fans just want to enjoy the things they love with others who love the same things. That’s my main goal, too. Skam has been important to me and I want it to continue to be that. I want to keep the fandom as a space to share my love for the show. Thinking through these processes has helped me see a little more clearly how to do that. 

Ultimately, the Skam fandom is what we make of it, and we all can make it better. We can talk and share opinions and remind each other that we don’t support harassment, especially over ships or different versions of Skam. We can be decent to each other. I am not saying “be kind, always”, because in my opinion that phrase was never meant to stand alone without “being an asshole isn’t something you become, it’s a choice”. 

But yeah, that’s another discussion. My point is, if we all work together, we can manage to have a fandom that is open and tolerant and spreading love instead of fear and hate. And if that’s a little too optimistic, I’m gonna filter and blacklist and stick to “don’t like, don’t read” and see if it helps.

[ashe-cat]

Thunderstorms Ch. Prequel

Tempest

So here it is, the first chapter to my first fanfic. I’m no writer so if anyone has any advice for me I’ll gladly take it! If youre a Dragon age fan you probably be able to understand whats being said!  You can also read it here on AO3. 

Also shout to friend @karumasa for helping me when she could, and also shout my favorite orc writers, @morphinetune @dust-bun @seventyfiveapples and @bonnietakesnosh-t . After writing this chapter I have stronger appreciation for what you guys do as writer, writing isn’t as easy as it seems!

  It has always amazed me how quickly a person's life can change; almost like a thunderstorm. It starts off small, but then slowly builds into a crescendo of powerful emotions.  Building upon every life changing event, till finally reaching one's pinnacle of serenity and understanding.

My great grandmother once told me that thunderstorms brought our family luck. She said with storms, they brought rains that could wash away all of our sadness, our pain, and all our troubles. They were our sign of clarity and rebirth.

My rebirth….

……………………………………………………

…………………….

………

…

Rain is believed to have a calming effect on people; from the spine tingling sensation when it hits the body just right, to the way it's soft thrum lulls the spirit. Sadly it seemed that the downpour outside of the car could not even begin to quell the storm of emotions brewing in a young mother heart. Her heart felt more cold and dreary than the starless night that she and her companion were driving through. The only thing that gave her solace and anchored her to reality was the shallow breathing of a child. Her child. She often found herself staring and holding her own breath, every time there pause between breaths she couldn't the sinking feeling in her gut

wondering “will this be my child last breath!?”.

“She's going to be alright Aminata, she's stable now.” As if a spell had been lifted, Aminata instantly turned to whom the deep velvety voice belonged to.

“I'm worried for you, love. You both have a long journey head and you haven't slept since we started.”

Offering him a small smile she finally turned back to face the window “I can't… I keep have this feeling she won't make it through night. Are sure she's alright Fenrir?”

As if to calm even his rising doubt, he briefly viewed the child's condition through the rear mirror.

“I'm sure, and the crystal will ensure she's stable until we reached the checkpoint. Once we reached the house I'll finish the healing process.  He replied, taking hold of her and giving a chaste kiss to her knuckles. “Until then rest my love, we only have an hour left”

Letting out a soft whimper Aminata slowly allowed herself to succumb to exhaustion.

………………………………………………………..

…………………..

…….

Aminata wasn't sure what woke her first, it was either the SUV coming to a stop or the labored breathing coming from the back seat. Whatever it was she knew without a doubt something wasn't right.

“Fenrir!!”

“Shhh… It's okay Ami, we're here.” Fenrir quickly replied, trying to calm her by taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. “Grab your things, I'll grab da'len and bring her to the house.”

Before she was completely out of his reach, Fenrir pulled her into a quick embrace.

“I know this is happening all too quickly and I can only imagine how frighten you must be but… Var lath vir suledin… I promise.”

Moved beyond words all Aminata could do was tighten her embrace on him. Letting him go, she gathered her things and headed towards the house. After watching her leave Fenrir finally made his way to the SUV’s back passenger door, opening the door it was clear to him that the child inside was deteriorating fast. Time was of the essence and he needed to move the child to house now in order to treat her. With the utmost care he carefully gathered the child in his arms and began heading towards to the house.

For being only a short distance from the vehicle to the house, time itself seem to stretch on for eternity. They had been traveling for a better part of a week, and all along the way they were met with some setbacks. Even with all of those setbacks none of them felt as difficult as this short walk.

All Fenrir wanted to do was breath a sigh of relief that the journey was over, but that was then furthest thing from the truth. So many emotions filtered through his mind, the prominent being guilt and dread.

The sense of trepidation within him was so strong, that Fenrir swore one could hear the thundering of his heart. He was so overwhelmed with all possibilities the next few hours had in store for him.. and his da'len.

His poor, sweet da'len. She was just shy of her fifth birthday, she was already shaping to be a beautiful and intelligent woman. Looking at her now though, one could only see a mere husk of her former self.It made Fenrir's heart ache to witness her in this state. Skin that once a rich and warm as fresh coffee with cream, was now more of a ashen gray with black splotches scattered about, and those beautiful. Eyes that once held color that could rival any dusk sunset; now looking upon them was like looking at the reflection of the dark grey void of despair locked within his heart.

Lost in his inner turmoil, that Fenrir barely noticed small hands grazing the ends of his shoulder length hair. Large sunken grey eyes stared up at him, and it took all of his willpower not to break down on the spot.

“Da’len you're awake!!” he exclaimed gently, while moving a tassel of curls. “Everything is going to be okay soon, I promise.”

He was so captivated with those eyes that he hadn't even realized he had taken the last few steps towards the house. Tearing his eyes from the child he became aware of a smartly dressed woman waiting for them on the porch.

“Fen'Harel ma ghilana. It's time Fenrir… are you ready?” the woman asked quietly, all while her gaze quickly flickered between him and the child.

“Ghil-Dirthalen. I am, but..” he replied, glancing quickly down at the child only to stare back at the woman.  “Give me a moment.. Please.”

With a small smile and a nod, the woman turned and receded back into the shadows of the house.

This was it, there was no place to go but forward. The next few hours held no certainties of anything promising. So with these scarce minutes he wanted them to mean something.

“Ma vhenan.”

Recognizing that he was addressing her, the child stopped her play with his hair and gave him her full attention.

“Thing a are going to very different from now, but I want you to know that no matter what I… As latha ma vhenan, and I always will.”

For being just a child it was amazing to see just how intuitive she was. She may not fully understand what was going on, but she knew well enough that something wasn't right. Her large eyes instantly swelled with tears and Fenrir did his best to prevent them from falling.

“Shhh, vhenan, everything is going to be fine, I promise. Remember I'm your abo, and I'll do anything to protect you.”

Out of his peripheral vision he could see that someone was once again in the doorway. It was time. With a heavy sigh, Fenrir gathered the child as close as possible to him. If these were truly their last moments, then he wanted to able to remember the way she felt in his arms and the way she smelled.

“I love you and I always will my little Cerrid………… 

………………

..

“DWEN! CERRIDWEN!! CERRIDWEN ATIENA ANDUNË!!! Honey it's time to wake up!!” came a annoyed feminine voice, muffled by the bedroom door.

Letting out a long groan, Cerridwen rolled in bed and sat up to face the door. Not even bothering to turn off the obnoxious artificial  crowing coming from her phone.

“You can come in momma.” She replied releasing a long yawn in the process.

Walking in and clearly annoyed with her daughter, Aminata picked up the phone and promptly silenced the offensive alarm.

“I swear Cerri if you're not going to wake up when your alarm goes off why bother setting one. The stupid thing been going off for… Cerri, love are you alright? Why are you crying?” Aminata asked, her face and voice instantly softening when saw her daughter's face.

“Huh” touching her face, Cerri became aware that she had indeed been crying, and pretty hard if her swollen eyelids were anything to go by.

“ Love did something happened, are you pain? Is your chest bothering you again?”Aminata asked tenderly, seating herself on the bed next to Cerri and slowly wiping away her tears.

“No, I'm fine mom I just had a weird dream.”

“What did you dream about?

Thinking for a moment, her expression went from blank to utter confusion. Looking at her mom's concerned face, Cerridwen opened her mouth as if to say something, to only then close it and turn towards the window. Watching the first few drops of rain hit the glass.

“That's just it mom…”

                                        I don't remember...

[sukkadeservedbetter]

Edge Of A Thunderstorm

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Summary: A chance encounter during a thunderstorm leaves you freezing, caffeinated, and starstruck. 

Warnings: light swearing, brief mentions of drinking

Word Count: 2K

“Alright, I’m heading home,” You say to your co-workers as you place your laptop into your bag and grab your umbrella.

“You’re walking?” One of them asks in astonishment. “In this weather? Girl, call a cab.” You roll your eyes playfully.

“I can handle a little rain and we’re not that far from my apartment. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” they sing. “Catch you Monday!”

“See you!”

Turns out, you can’t handle this rain. Rain is one thing, but this? This is insane. The wind blows your umbrella so hard that you’re exhausted after just five minutes of walking. As you squint out into the grey, you can’t be sure which direction the rain is coming from. Cars speed past you, splashing you with the pools of water that were collecting below the curb. Thunder rolls above you and soon enough white flashes through the sky. You’re soaked and miserable. Okay, enough! This is ridiculous, you tell yourself as you run under a brown awning for momentary shelter.

You shutter under your coat and try to shake your hands dry enough so you can reach for your phone. Your fingers fumble over the keys. You open the Uber app and wait for a driver. You look up and see a figure through the grey, running for cover much like you had moments before.

“Jesus, this storm is ridiculous,” the man says from underneath multiple jackets and a hoodie as he reached the awning.

“Yeah, tell me about it. You would think people like us would listen to the weather channel,” You pity-laugh as you spoke.

“An inch of rain, my ass.” You laugh at the man’s comment, still looking down at your phone, hoping for anyone to pick up your ride request.

“I’d wager it’s closer to two,” You comment nonchalantly. Your phone buzzes in your frozen hand: Your driver will arrive in 59 minutes. You groan internally, debating whether the walk would really be all that bad. Thunder crashes simultaneously with a bright white flash of lightning. You jump and yelp, earning yourself a chuckle from the man next to you.

“Scared of a little thunder?” He asks.

“That one just caught me off guard,” You reply.

“I’m sorry to trouble you, but could I possibly borrow your phone? Seems mine is dead and I’d really like to call a cab.”

“Oh, um, sure!” You say, handing the stranger your phone. “Let me know the wait time if you get through. Uber said it’s going to take at least an hour.”

“That blows. I’ll let you know.” You absentmindedly tap your foot as the stranger uses your phone. Something about his voice is familiar, but you can’t place it. The accent throws you off. “The lines are busy.”

“Hm?” You ask, realizing you had zoned out.

“The lines are busy. Looks like I’m stuck here.” He says.

“You would think Ubers and Cabs would be better equipped to handle rainy days. I know they’re probably busy but it’s a little annoying.”

“Yeah, and you would think they would employ more people for high volume days,” He says. You nod in agreement. “Oh well, I think I’m going to head inside and grab a cup of coffee while I wait for the storm to settle; do you want to join me?” The man tentatively asks. You look at the building behind you, realizing for the first time that it was a small cafe.

“Oh, sure!” The man holds the door open for you and you step inside to the heat and the faint smell of coffee grinds. You turn around to thank the man for holding the door for you but words don’t reach your mouth. The man had taken his hood off and you finally realize why you recognized his voice. Spider-man was standing in front of you. His real name was escaping you in the shock that Spider-man had just asked you to get coffee with him. He gives you a cheeky smile as he walks past you to the counter.

“I’ll have a medium coffee and…” He pauses as he looks back at you. You’re still standing by the door, mouth slightly ajar at your realization. “Whatever she’s having.”

“What? You don’t have to do that!” You stutter out.

“Hey, it’s the last I can do. You let me borrow your phone.” You know that those two didn’t quite match up, but you let it slide because it had been a while since a cute boy offered to buy you a coffee and how often do people like you get to hang out with a superhero? You walk up next to him and read the menu.

“A medium vanilla latte, please,” You tell the barista. You and Spider-man walk to a small, mosaic table in the center of the cafe. The soft yellow glow of the overhead lights makes the room feel warmer than it actually is. You feel bad calling the man in front of you Spider-man in your head, but you can’t, for the life of you, remember his real name. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I caught your name.”

“Oh,” He responds, slightly taken back by the question, like he expected you to already know. His eyes light up. “It’s uh, Tom.” You make a split-second decision to not make a big deal of his fame, a decision that you thanked yourself for making later.

“Nice to meet you, Uh-Tom. I’m (Y/N).” You throw in a cheeky smile as you bring your vanilla latte to your thawing lips. Tom laughs at your bad joke.

“So, where were you headed when the storm hit?” Tom asked.

“Home. I live about a mile and a half away. What about you?”

“My mate Harrison’s house. We were supposed to grab drinks. That’s obviously not gonna happen.”

“I don’t think binge drinking and massive storms really go together,” You muse.

“You obviously don’t hang out with the right kind of people.”

“Oh? And what do the ‘right kind of people’ do when they blackout and can’t figure out how to get home at the end of the night?” You ask.

“They wake up in a dumpster the next morning with one hell of a story to tell.” Tom shoots you a grin and you snort.

“Oh my, God. I’m so sorry.” You bring your hand over your mouth as if that would stop the noise that had already come out. Your face burns red hot and you sink lower into your chair. Tom bursts out laughing, tears nearly spilling from his eyes. “Tom! Stop laughing!” You whine.

“Aw, don’t get embarrassed. That was adorable.”

“That was horrendous,” You disagree. “So, what do you do?” You ask, even though you know the answer, hoping to change the subject.

“I’m an actor,” Tom smiles.

“What kind of an actor?” You ask. “Like a ‘starving artist’ actor? A ‘I have to bus tables in between plays’ actor? Or a ‘I’m the next Brad Pitt’ actor?” You were loving watching Tom laughing at your comments. It’s nice to know someone thinks I’m funny, you think to yourself.

“Hm,” Tom thinks. “Somewhere in between starving artist and Brad Pitt.”

“Been in anything I might have seen?” You ask. You’re teasing Tom and he has no idea. Where did all the confidence come from? Who am I? You ask yourself.

“Depends.”

“On?”

“Your opinion on superheros,” Tom says. He doesn’t meet your eyes.

“Tobey Maguire was better,” You deadpan. Tom’s head snaps up.

“You knew?!” Tom nearly yells, but he’s smiling wide.

“Of course I knew, Dude! Marvel’s marketing isn’t exactly subtle; your face was plastered everywhere earlier this year.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Tom asks with a laugh.

“Didn’t seem important until now.” You shrug. “Besides, I liked watching you try to conceal your real identity. It was very Peter Parker of you.” Tom laughs again.

“So, you’re a fan?”

“Kind of! I mean, I like the movies but I’m not, like, writing smutty Loki fan fiction in my free time, you know?”

“Gotcha. That Loki fanfic gets…” Tom trails off.

“Fucking wild,” You finish his thought for him.

“Exactly. Do you, uh, do you really think Tobey is better?”

“What will you do if I say yes?”

“Cry,” Tom jokes. “Sue, maybe.”

“I can’t afford to be sued by you, and I’d feel pretty bad if I made you cry, so let’s just say Andrew was the best and call it a night.” You raise your eyebrows at Tom.

“Oh, fuck off!” Tom quips. The two of you continue to talk well into the nigh. You blow through an array of topics and Tom tells  you stories that have you laughing so hard you cry. You don’t even realize how much time has past until the barista walks up to your table.

“Hey,” She rudely interrupts you telling Tom about the most embarrassing date you had ever been on. “We’re closing up.” You and Tom exchange a glance of terror and confusion. Have you really been here for four hours? You look towards the window, expecting to see grey. Instead you only see black with blurry bright lights peeping through the window.  

“Have we?” You ask.

“There’s no way…” Tom responds. You both stare at each other for a moment before you both bust out into laughter. Tom grabs your empty cup and stands up, walking to the trash. As you stand, a moment of sadness hit you. The last fours hours with Tom have been the most entertaining and carefree hours you have had in years, but Tom is a celebrity. Tom is Spider-Man for God’s sake. What would he want with you?

“So I had-” “Can I get your-” You and Tom speak simultaneously.

“Sorry you go,” Tom says.

“No, really, you go!” You encourage.

“Um, okay. Can I get your number?” Tom ask/.

“Seriously?” You squeak out.

“Are you seriously questioning it? Yes, seriously. I’d like to take you out sometime when we’re both not sopping wet and exhausted… if that’s okay.”

“Y-yeah! Of course! Here put your number in my phone and text yourself!” You hand your phone to Tom with a smile plastered across your face that you can’t quit. You stare at Tom as he types away on your phone. For the first time, you recognized how truly beautiful he is. His sharp jawline blended down into soft skin and broad shoulders. A curl of his brown hair cascaded down over his eye and his fingers were-

“(Y/N)?” Tom’s smooth voice interrupts your thoughts. “You’re drooling, love.” You blush like mad.

“S-sorry.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over seeing how easy you get embarrassed,” Tom says. Before you can say anything, Tom leans in and leaves a barely-there kiss on your lips. “See you soon, Darlin’.” Tom smiles and walks out into the rain without another word. You stand under the awning, stunned by the interaction you had just had.

You hop out into the rain like a little kid during the first storm after a long summer. Though it isn’t as stormy as it was before, the rain still pelts against your skin and seeps into your shoes and socks. The wind pushes you up the sidewalk. You knew you’d have a hefty Uber bill waiting for you for missing your ride, but you couldn’t be bothered; You had a date with Spider-man.

A/N: This is the first “fan fic” type thing I’ve written in, like, 3 years so let me know what you think!! I plan on writing a lot more for this blog so feedback is appreciated :)

[alienisticxo]

For the fanfic ask! 🛠 🙋‍♀️🤗🤲

thank you for the ask!! 🥹🖤

🛠️— i use google docs to write my fics! i also really only write them on my phone. 😅 i know that’s kind of insane, but for some reason my fingers just move faster with texting and i can access the doc from anywhere that way, even though i write them from like midnight to 3AM just laying in bed with my headphones in and some inspiring tunes playing (mostly Let Go x Ark Patrol and the Halo/Interstellar soundtracks). 🤣 occasionally i’ll use my laptop and listen to lo-fi, but it’s rare these days.

🙋‍♀️- only a few people in real life know that i write fan fiction— my best friend, my boyfriend and one other friend. i’m pretty sure that’s it.

🤗— advice to new fanfic writers just getting started…. hmm…

just do it. (nikeTM) lol. like i know it’s easy to get caught up in “what if no one likes my pairing, what if people think it’s stupid, what if my writing isn’t up to par,” etc. when i first started actually posting my fics years ago, i thought people would say mean things or laugh at me for the crazy ideas i had, or that i would never be able to compare to some of the more seasoned writers and thus no one would read my fics… how wrong was i! i’ve learned you’ve just gotta get past that and write what you love. the rest comes with it! there’s a lid for every pot. so maybe you don’t use words like “contumacious” or “recalcitrant,” maybe you’re more casual or more intense, but that’s literally okay! everyone has their own style of writing, and you will find your crowd. while it is obviously very nice to receive praise, don’t get caught up in stats either. there are more often than not people who will read and adore your fics and never once say anything to you or give any indication of their existence. (take it from me, i used to be one of these people.)

we are here to have fun and share ideas, find others who enjoy the same things we do, and to write what makes us happy and in turn make others happy with our stories! we as readers can also tell when someone really loves what they’re writing and is having fun doing it. my biggest “tell” is when i’m editing my own chapters. if i find myself grazing through it or waiting for a specific part, i’m almost positive my reader is probably doing the same. i always make sure to sit on it and go back later for editing until i know i’m enjoying it. love what you write first and foremost, because that’s far more appealing than writing for clout or without heart.

one more thing— don’t push yourself to write when you aren’t feeling it. as much as we “can’t wait for the next chapter!!!” people are also very understanding about needing time to recharge the batteries. if you wanna abandon a fic, don’t be scared to do so either. life’s wild, so is writing. sometimes it just isn’t panning out. you may never touch it again, or you might come back in 10 years with a whole new perspective and an idea to finish, and pick up a whole new crowd, and probably still have old readers still hanging around!

okay. sorry for that entire novel— but these were things i didn’t realize before and definitely wanted to enlighten anyone else who’s afraid to give it a go!

🤲 — i would love to share a snippet of a WIP!

here is a v small excerpt from my Kismet Master Chief x Reader series!! (if you missed it, you can read the one shot that inspired it from the masterlist in my description ♡)

———

But the 117 at the far left end caught my attention. I recognized his green armor, the matte black material beneath it. I remembered that particular number becoming quite a threat to my own soldiers at one point in time.

Ghashank’o, demon, we called him. He had quite the reputation.

He would come in handy.

“I remember you, demon,” I allowed a knowing smirk to slide across my lips.

“Caelestis,” 117 spoke with a slight bow of his head, his tone clear and polite despite my name for him. “We come to you with nothing other than peace and respect.”

“I would hope so, seeing as we’re on the same side of the battle this time around.”

“It seems we are,” he responded.

———

*** caelestis is a word i chose for a royal type of title within the covenant realm 🥹

this was fun!! sorry for being so wordy!! 😅

[allimariexf]

alli’s Arrow 2x02 rewatch thoughts

(Aka: Felicity establishes some friendship rules for OTA)

Diggle: “Why the sudden interest in my love life?” Oliver: “If it’s important to you, it’s important to me.” aww! (and yet, it’s easier for Oliverto acknowledge a real love and friendship for Dig because his feelings toward Dig are straightforward, unlike his feelings toward Felicity)

Felicity “I quit!” With newfound confidence, self-worth, sass. Partially because this is her professional sphere, where she always had a lot of confidence. And partially because she has become more aware of her own strength, bravery, and sees herself as more of an equal.

I think this change in Felicity is very similar to the change we see in her after Oliver “dies” in his duel with Ra’s al Ghul. When he comes back, everyone has gone through a lot without him, and in 3x13 Felicity’s like “That doesn’t mean we can go back.” We never get to see what they go through when Oliver leaves after the Undertaking, but it’s safe to say it had a profound effect on them. Felicity grows more confident - both because during the Undertaking she helped mitigate the damage and was heroic and self-sacrificing, and because she had to come to terms with fear and pain in its aftermath.

She always did have fight in her when pushed, when her unconscious confidence rose to the surface, but she’s not holding herself back now. Last season I measured progress in her almost-touches, but this right here she jabs him in the chest unapologetically. “Which you think I am going to accept.” And unlike the Oliver of old who held himself apart, he kinda plays along lolol. She jabs him and he reacts bodily like she pushed him hard (the first in a long line of Oliver-reacting-to-Felicity-punching-him-as-if-it-hurts), looking down like “did you really just do that?” ADORABLE. (But he basically accepts it and this is the real start of Oliver and Felicity being handsy with one another.)

“Every time we need to discuss how we spend our nights.” // “And I love spending the night with you.” OMGGGG though I’m so struck this time around by how much this flirty sexual tension is ON THE SURFACE. Like, ON. THE. SURFACE. I’m just picturing Diggle already thinking they need to get a room.

Meanwhile I love how Oliver tries to catch John’s eye like “can you believe the big deal she’s making over this?” but instead John adds his own, “Well it could be worse. My secret identity’s as his black driver.”

So she gives in but she makes sure to let him know she won’t make this easy for him: she’s gonna be loud and opinionated! Slamming her hand on his desk, clomping loudly in her high heels, and then: “May I get you a cup of coffee?”

She’s provoking him, instead of simply holding silent. She wants him to know she’s serious. She wants him to know that she’s done silently doing his bidding while fading in the background. Also, the dress. The clothes and the attitude definitely go together. And the hair. All of it deliberately provocative. My godddddddd this scene is everything!

----------------

And then THIS SCENE after Oliver’s ambushed by the SCPD:

Felicity reaches out and almost touches his arm in sympathy, but then at Dig’s mention of Laurel: “Hey! Go easy on him!” (“It’s all right, Felicity.”) “No. It’s not.” SHE GRABS HIS ARM and this is the first time she’s ever grabbed him and he looks down like “wtf is happening?” I think he’s equally caught off guard by the fact that she grabbed him and the fact that he’s letting her.

“You don’t get to jump down his throat just because you happen to be having a lousy week. You’re pissed - he invoked the almighty Laurel.” This is the first time she calls out the way he reveres Laurel. Definitely Oliver’s personal life has always been “off limits,” but she’s done with that. And she’s mocking him over it.

Felicity’s speech and anger on John’s behalf basically draws a sharp contrast between the way Oliver treats Diggle and Felicity versus the way Oliver treats Laurel. On the one hand, Dig and Felicity know his secrets, have his trust, and risk their lives for him, while Oliver constantly questions their judgment, disregards their advice, and leaves them out to dry. On the other hand, Laurel doesn’t know anything about who he is now, doesn’t risk her life for him, and now is actively working against them, while Oliver continues to keep her on a pedestal and disallows anyone from saying anything bad against her.

So in this scene Felicity is defending Dig, but she’s also standing up for herself, requiring that Oliver recognize that THEY ARE IMPORTANT. They are people too, and they are actual friends who deserve respect, and he’s got to listen to what they have to say and he can’t just act without taking their needs and concerns into consideration anymore. (And yeah, I 100% believe she’s still bitter about him making her his EA without at the very least consulting her. Wow! Just realized how deep this boy’s patterns of behavior run. Season 2, season 4 (and now, dammit, season 6 😫 though I blame that on bad writing, not a lapse in Oliver)).

The thing about the way Oliver and Felicity communicate is that he always catches her subtext. I am sure he caught this subtext, which is why it had such an impact on him - why he seems apologetic to her, even though the argument was ostensibly over Oliver’s treatment of Diggle.  

But she turns her back on him and walks away. I think this is the first time she ever actually turns her back and walks away from him. And it cuts him because maybe without him even realizing it they’ve gotten to the point where her opinion of him matters.

-------------

Mmkay just so we are clear: Felicity as Oliver’s EA is just so delicious, one of my favorite things about season 2, and I absolutely think it helped bring them closer faster. I wishhhh we saw more of it on the show. Thankfully there’s EA fanfic, some of which I’m writing.

“Miss Smoak.” “Hmm?” “Would you get my guest and I some coffee?” HE IS ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY TRYING TO PUSH HER BUTTONS HERE. You can tell by his little smile that it’s a challenge. (ADORABLE!)

OH OLIVER, FELICITY HAS COME TO PLAY: “You know, I would Mr. Queen, but it seems someone’s broken our coffeemaker. Violently.” ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: PLAYFULNESS (and deeper respect).

---------------

Oliver: “I got wrapped up in my own suffering and I forgot that some other people might be suffering too.” OH YOU THINK, OLIVER? At least we’re seeing the immediate payoff of Felicity’s influence right here. *sigh*

AND THEN: The coffee cup of emotions. “One.” She brings him that coffee because she can see he’s feeling down, and because she sees he’s apologizing to Dig and just generally trying. So the context of her bringing the coffee has entirely changed, which is why she allows it: this isn’t the action of an EA, but of a friend.

AND THAT, MY FRIENDS, IS HOW YOU BUILD A BEAUTIFUL, STRONG, SLOW-BURN SHIP BASED ON MUTUAL RESPECT.

(further random thoughts below the cut)

Workout montage 😍

Season 2 Oliver in a suit is just something to behold. And then. The grey t-shirt. Which I am also very okay with.

(Not gonna lie, I skimmed through a lot of the flashback and Laurel stuff because honestly none of that ends up being really significant in the long run. And as I said earlier, I find Oliver/Shado to be icky, and Laurel in season 2 to be pretty annoying, so….)

So season 2 was the debut of Katie Cassidy’s new chin and I have never been a fan, sorry. I mean, a person can do what they want as long as it makes them happy, but there was nothing wrong with her original chin. :\

I had forgotten about the weird Laurel/Sebastian relationship thing. Uck.

*ring* “It’s Felicity.” (Oliver to Felicity:) “Tell me.” Those communication skills tho.

She’s just gained so much confidence in the Arrow Cave, too! Her voice, her attitude, it’s awesome.

(“Who in the hell could be feeding us year-old surveillance?”) Bwaahaaa, cute confident Felicity, that’s who!

Chien Na Wei is so awesome. I miss the old-fashioned fights that didn’t have progressively-unbelievable “canary cries,” if I’m honest.

Eermigerd tho this little BrOTP Oliver/Diggle scene: “I didn’t need one of your trick arrows.” “I couldn’t risk it. Where would I be without my black driver?” WHEN THESE TWO JOKE WITH EACH OTHER, YOU GUYS. It’s like the alignment of all the planets and there are like rainbows and puppies and library fines amnesty.

@jules85 @blondeeoneexox @hope-for-olicity @memcjo

[mysticdelphox97]

Never Say Goodbye, a Fan Sequel: Chapter One

So my wonderful friend JJ, aka @11random-person11, decided to write a broken MarissonShipping fanfic called "When We Say Goodbye," and she finally finished the last part. Of course, I cannot stand the fact that there is a hella huge cliffhanger at the end, as well as numerous unanswered questions. Not to mention that I'm a huge emotional wreckage because of how the story ended.

However! With JJ’s generous permission, I have decided to write some of my interpretations of what happens after WWSG in my fan sequel, "Never Say Goodbye"! Please note that while I am writing this with my own ideas, JJ gets full credit for the story as a whole, since she came up with the initial plot and created her adorable Marisson child, Faith. And I’m going to be doing Mended MarissonShipping because Alain and Mairin deserve to be happy, gosh darn it!

Also, if a broken AU isn’t your cup of tea, then don't you worry! JJ has plenty of other works that include happy and fluffy and super sweet MarissonShipping moments. I definitely recommend giving those a read for sure! I hope you guys enjoy!

CHAPTER ONE.

“…I expect you to inform her as swiftly as possible. The quicker this goes through, the sooner you’ll have no connections to them—meaning I can finally make full use of you.”

The dark-haired man on the other side of the screen blinked. Stunned, no doubt, from the compromise they had just made. Even though it offered no benefit to him, other than his family would be unharmed.

At least, that’s what Lysandre told him.

After a moment of silence, the man spoke up. “…It shall be done, sir,” he said in a voice no louder than a whisper.

“Good. We’ll talk again soon, Alain.”

And with a single tap of his finger, he disconnected the call.

The moment the monitor went black, Lysandre let the façade he’d been putting on vanish. With a heavy groan, he pushed himself away slightly from the desk and rested his face in his hands. His head pounded with a dull headache, and tremors wracked his body. A series of coughs erupted from his lips, despite all his efforts to suppress it. The metallic taste of blood became all too familiar to him now.

“Bryony,” Lysandre croaked. Without even a moment’s hesitation, his former admin entered the small, dark office that he occupied.

“Yes, sir?”

“My medicine, if you will.”

He caught the briefest glimpse of concern on Bryony’s face, which was easier to do without her green visor. As quickly as the expression came, it disappeared, and Bryony exited the room with a curt nod towards her boss.

What’s left of him, in any case.

A sudden, intense shudder wracked through Lysandre’s body. He grimaced as pain surfaced to his chest, and found himself slipping from the chair and falling onto the carpet. He wheezed between coughs, blood spattering from his mouth. When it subsided, Lysandre forced himself to control his breathing. A bought of light-headedness caused him to lean over, but something preventing him from falling again.

“Oh, goodness. You have certainly seen better days, haven’t you?”

He recognized that voice, despite it being years since he last heard it. He turned his head towards the woman that had caught him, and was met with orange eyes and perfectly-maintained pink hair.

“What are you doing here?” Lysandre did not bother hiding the contempt laced on his tongue.

The woman frowned disapprovingly, but said nothing as she assisted him back onto the chair. She then sat on the edge of the desk, which creaked under her weight.

“I heard that you cheated death,” the woman remarked curtly.

Lysandre glared at her, his hands gripping tightly on the armrests of the chair. “I know that’s not why you’re here, Malva.” He spat out her name like a bad taste in his mouth.

Malva raised an eyebrow curiously at him. She sighed, adjusting her glasses before crossing her legs. “Is that so?” she asked, not bothering to give him an explanation for her sudden appearance.

The former boss of Team Flare grimaced. “Do you really want to play this game, Malva? Because I am not in the m—” he was interrupted with another fit of coughing. Thankfully, it wasn’t strong enough to send him over the edge again.

“Clearly, you seem unable to do much as it is,” she said. She waited for Lysandre to stop coughing before continuing. “It’s a wonder how you got that boy back under your control.”

Lysandre stared her down.

“Although, he’s hardly a boy anymore, is he? He married a wonderful woman, and even had an adorable little girl. But thanks to you, he’s lost that and much more. You are certainly a cruel man, Lysandre.”

“He’s not difficult to manipulate,” Lysandre responded. A thin film of perspiration began to form on his forehead. Where was Bryony?

Malva hummed in agreement. “I’ll say. He truly believes you actually killed the Professor,” she mused.

Lysandre’s eyebrows furrowed. “Because I did kill him,” he corrected her.

A mischievous smirk curled itself onto Malva’s lips. “Ah. Then it must be a coincidence that dear Augustine is being held captive in the Kanto region… by Team Rocket.”

Lysandre felt his skin grow cold. He could only stare at Malva, absolutely dumbfounded by what she just said. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

With a flick of her hair, Malva hopped from the desk, using her finger to trace its edge as she walked to the front of it. “I must say, you did a convincing enough job to fake his death. Even I was temporarily fooled,” she complimented. She stopped walking and turned to face Lysandre. “Although, I knew that was the plan from the very beginning.”

“How?”

“A reporter has her ways,” she said slyly. Lysandre knew there was more to it than that, however.

“If you know so much… why don’t you just tell Alain all of this?” Lysandre glowered.

“I’m not the one who forced him to cut all his ties with people, especially his own wife and daughter,” she retorted. Lysandre flinched at her words, and she noticed. “And something tells me you aren’t as thrilled to be dragging him into this.”

Lysandre’s eyes narrowed. “That is preposterous. Alain is merely a tool, nothing more.”

Malva frowned and crossed her arms. “Easier to see him as a tool rather than your own son, isn’t it?”

In one swift motion, Lysandre leapt from the chair and strode over to Malva. She took one step back, but nevertheless held her ground as he towered over her. His face contorted into a furious glare, and if looks could kill, she’d be dead several times over.

“You have no right…” he threatened. Lysandre expected her to continue, but she only stared at him. A knot began to form in his throat, and his fists were clenched.

He did not expect her gaze to soften. The look she gave him wasn’t that of pity, either. “Perhaps I’ve crossed a line,” she muttered, breaking away and glancing away from him.

“…He looks so much like her…” His voice was on the verge of breaking.

It was true, though. There was no doubt that Alain was his son… and that his mother was Alina. The first woman Lysandre fell in love with. He was practically a carbon copy of her. Lysandre brushed it off as his mind playing tricks on him when he first saw the boy. After all, Alina had left Lysandre before Alain had been born… but perhaps there was a chance she knew they were going to have a child, and left anyways.

It was because of Giovanni that Lysandre even found out, only to have that information be used as blackmail against him. As a means of paying off his debt to the boss of Team Rocket, who managed to save Lysandre’s life after nearly succumbing to the power of the Megalith’s energy. But it had left him weak and sick, and only Team Rocket could supply him with the medicine he needed in order to stay alive. Giovanni had the money and the power to put even someone like Lysandre in their place.

And as it stood now, Lysandre had no choice but to comply with his wishes. Which meant being stuck in this dreadful building complex in an abandoned section of town as his base of operations. It was far from the luxury he was used to at his laboratories… but there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

He was powerless. He’d never been powerless before. And he despised it.

“If finding this out has made you suddenly care for him… why are you dragging him into this?” Malva’s question brought Lysandre back to his senses. He looked at her as she stood, waiting for an answer.

“Because I can make sure his family is safe… by separating him from them,” he explained carefully. “Team Rocket would’ve taken Mairin and Faith away, like they did with the Professor. And I can’t imagine that they would be merciful with them.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t disagree with you on that,” Malva sighed. “Is this really alright with you, though? To keep up this charade of a villain, when you’re not even in control anymore?”

Lysandre scoffed. “I tried to destroy the world for the sake of making it beautiful again. I can’t change that, no matter what I do.” A wave of nausea suddenly rushed over him, and Lysandre winced at the sensation. “It’s better that I continue to be a villain. There’s no hope for this world to ever become beautiful again, anyway.”

The sound of the door opening caught both of their attention. Malva and Lysandre watched as Bryony carefully shut the door behind her and approached the desk.

“Your medicine, sir,” Bryony simply stated, placing the bottle of pills next to the monitor.

“I suppose that must be my cue to leave,” Malva remarked. She smiled at Bryony as she passed by, and made to open the door to leave.

“Malva.”

Upon hearing her name, Malva stopped and glanced back. “Yes?”

“What are you planning to do now?” Lysandre inquired.

Malva let out a quiet laugh. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she answered. There was a pause, and then she continued. “There’s no telling what Team Rocket has in store for us. I’m going to contact some… acquaintances. See if we can’t figure out what Giovanni’s planning.”

“It won’t be easy. The technology he’s using, and providing us with, is far more advanced that anything I’ve ever seen. And he has grunts stationed almost everywhere… it’ll be a challenge to sneak by him,” he warned.

Malva smiled. “I told you before, haven’t I? I have my ways.”

And with that, she opened the door and slipped away, shutting it behind her as she left.

A heavy sigh escaped Lysandre’s lips. With what little energy he had left, Lysandre ambled back towards the chair and pulled it up to the desk. He grabbed the medicine that Bryony had fetched for him and sat down, untwisting the cap and shaking out several pills from the container. In a single motion, Lysandre swallowed them, chasing it down with a glass of wine that had been left from earlier in the day.

“Sir… is it safe to be taking the medication with alcohol?” Bryony asked.

“The medicine doesn’t treat the sickness, just the symptoms,” Lysandre explained. He turned to face her. “Have you been able to locate the other former admins?”

Bryony tensed slightly. When she responded, she had trouble looking Lysandre in the eyes. “I… I was able to locate Mabel and contact her. She should be coming by within the week. Celosia and Aliana’s locations are unknown. As for Xerosic… he’s under strict federal monitorization.”

“Giovanni probably has the means to fix that,” Lysandre pondered.

“My apologies, sir. The grunts and I will continue to look for them.”

Lysandre waived a hand dismissively at her. “I��m sure they’ll be found soon,” he reassured her.

“Sir… if Team Rocket finds them first…” Bryony began to say.

“They won’t,” Lysandre cut her off. “We’ll find them, Bryony. They’ll be safe under my command, I assure you.”

Bryony said nothing, but worry was clearly etched on her visage. She mustered as best of a smile as she could, bowed in thanks, and quietly dismissed herself to continue her search. Lysandre was left by himself in the dismal office.

With a quick roll of his shoulders, Lysandre turned the monitor back on and pulled up some documents. He had custody papers to file, after all.

[sailorspazz]

[Fanfic] No Words (Black/Zamasu)

Yup, look at me, still caught up in this damn ship that isn’t getting nearly enough attention in the form of fan works. Hence, I was “forced” to write another story :3

Title: No Words

Series: Dragon Ball Super

Pairing: Black/Zamasu

Rating: M (for sex)

Words: 5,100

Summary: As a jealous Zamasu enacts punishment upon him, Black wonders what's really on his other self's mind. 

Where to read: Posted on fanfiction.net and ao3. Or just click below!

Well well well…looks like this piece of fujoshi trash is at it again! A few months have passed since I wrote my previous fic about these two, and I’m still sailing hard on the Black/Zamasu ship. I’m a bit disappointed to see that not many on the English-speaking side of fandom have joined me in creating fan works, though :/ Seriously, the number of fics out there right now can be counted on one hand! So here I am, adding another one to the very small pile with the hope that we can someday make it into double digits…!

But I can at least take solace in the thriving Japanese ZamaBlack fan-art community, which led to the inspiration for this story. In fact, the premise is based on a particular comic by a highly prolific artist. Though the scenario may be distinct enough that those who’ve seen the original piece will probably recognize the source, it’s basically the setup and a small amount of dialogue that are similar, and I do my own thing with it from there.

One more thing: after I put myself out of my own element by making my previous fic about these guys a bit dark and twisted, this time I’m back in my more comfortable fluff and smut zone♥ Try not to gag on any excessive cuteness that may occur :P

Completed: 2017.02.15

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

“…completely unforgivable! How dare you!”

One moment I’m taking a well-earned nap following a hard day of working toward creating an ideal world, the next I’m being rudely awakened to hear the tail end of an accusation being hurled at me by my partner. I try to sit up, but find that I’m being pinned to the bed by an unseen force, still too groggy to comprehend what’s happening.

“I don’t care if you were just talking in your sleep,” he continues ranting, piercing me directly with a fiery glare now that he sees I’m waking up, “The only name you should ever speak is mine.” His hand snakes its way under my shirt, fingers stroking my chest and abs, and as I try to move again I realize that he’s using his godly powers to hold my mortal body immobile. Only my head and neck can move according to my own will, though it seems other parts can still move instinctually, as demonstrated by the erection forming in my pants. Even though I don’t know what’s going on, being forced down by him is undeniably a turn on.

The growing lump doesn’t escape his notice and his hand moves down to caress it, his gentle motions sharply contrasting with his irate expression. “Is this…for me?” he asks with a disconcerting amount of mock sweetness. “Or…for that Saiyan?” his tone darkens and he grasps my erection tightly. I cringe and gasp as he maintains his forceful grip for several unbearably long moments.

When he finally lets go, I look up at him, pleading for a measure of rationality. “Za…Zamasu, don’t be ridi—” He cuts me off with a brutal kiss, his tongue violently probing my mouth. I meet his lips with the same level of desire, even though as I’m clearing the fog of sleep from my mind, I find his behavior to be quite baffling. Based on what he’s said, I must have inadvertently mumbled Trunks’ name in my sleep. Yes, I can see why that could upset him, but his reaction still strikes me as rather extreme.

He breaks his lips away from mine, a silky thread of saliva briefly keeping our tongues connected as we part. “I have to punish you now,” he states coolly, making me leery for what sort of punishment he has in mind if that painful vicelike grip on my dick wasn’t even the start of it. But the menacing look in his eyes from moments ago has dissipated, and he now wears an impish grin as he slides my pants downward. “You need to repent for what you’ve done.”

“What I’ve ‘done’ is nothing. Talking in my sleep doesn’t…” I trail off as I realize he isn’t listening to my protest anyway, his attention becoming undividedly fixated on my dick as it pops up after he removes my pants. He takes it in his hands and is concentrating so hard that it almost seems as if he’s addressing it rather than me as a whole when he speaks.

“Now I’m going to make you come. For thirty minutes straight.” After making this declaration, he begins softly blowing on my erection, seemingly at odds with his stated goal. Such gentle stimulation isn’t going to get me off, after all, so if he wants to make me come over and over he’s going to have to get serious rather quickly.

But as he continues this seemingly unstimulating action, alternating between hitting me with cool, concentrated streams of air, exhaling warm breath onto me, and sucking air away from me, I soon discover that this is far more arousing than I would’ve expected. Perhaps the fact that I can’t move is making it even more effective (though if I tried, I could easily break out of his hold; even if his technique is highly effective on mortals, I have the mind of a god, not to mention a body that had access to godly ki even before I took it over). This teasing is making me yearn for him much more than I would if I could simply decide the pace as usual and do whatever I please.

And thus, an embarrassingly uncouth moan escapes my throat when he finally decides to take me into his mouth. After taking his time to work me up, he’s now going all out to finish me off. In an instant, he buries my erection so deep that the tip hits the back of his throat, then propels his head rapidly up and down. Not even a minute passes before his mouth fills with my cum, which he noisily gulps down, then he sloppily licks up small droplets that have dribbled out from his mouth onto my dick. He’s clearly playing this up, and looking so erotic doing it that I almost immediately become hard again.

My counterpart glances mischievously at me as he finishes running his tongue over my once again stiffened member. “Ready for more already?” he chuckles. He goes to work removing my remaining clothing, giving me a moment to go back to the thought of how odd this all seems. Of course I’m enjoying what he’s doing, but the reasoning behind it, this apparent jealousy over that Saiyan boy, makes absolutely no sense. How could he question our bond so much that he’d display such inexplicable insecurity? We’re working every day to create a utopia in which no one but the two of us will be left alive. Our dedication to our cause and each other is unshakeable. I would never—could never—betray him for anyone else; he must know this. So why…?

Zamasu undresses himself after he finishes throwing my clothes aside and lies on the bed next to me. Our faces are almost close enough to kiss, but he stays out of reach when I try to move my lips closer to his. He slides a hand down my body, firmly taking my erection in his hand, and begins stroking it at a leisurely pace.

I try searching his face for clues about what he’s thinking. Is this merely a sex game, and he came up with the contrived jealous lover act as a flimsy excuse to play out this fantasy? He notices that I’m looking at him and our eyes meet. I recall being told in the past that my face was highly inscrutable, and it was impossible for others to ascertain my mood just from looking at me. But knowing my own former face as well as I do, it’s usually easy for me to tell what my other self is feeling, mostly through those subtly expressive eyes. As I look into them, I can detect a myriad of emotions: a palpable sensual playfulness, a hint of steely determination, and, hidden a bit deeper, a sense of unease and anxiety. He’s not just putting on an act; there really is something worrying him. But I highly doubt it has anything to do with Trunks.

My partner seems to not appreciate the lingering, inquisitive look I’m giving him, and moves his face closer to mine. Just as our lips are about to touch, he fakes me out and pecks my cheek instead. Starting from there, he kisses a trail down my neck and across my collarbone, stopping once he reaches my chest. He drags his tongue over each nipple in turn, using long, laborious strokes to work them into rigid nubs. His hand starts working me a bit faster, though I can tell he’s still drawing this out and doesn’t intend for me to come right away, giving me a bit more time to think.

I know there’s no way he could legitimately believe that that Saiyan could tempt me to do anything other than use him to enhance my fighting skills. Zamasu and I have a link to each other that’s impossible to experience with anyone else. I’ve heard humans have a cliché of referring to romantic partners as being two bodies sharing one soul, but we actually embody that sentiment, and certainly have a far deeper understanding between us than those simpleminded pests could ever comprehend. No matter how long two separate beings have known each other—including gods who’ve spent countless millennia together—they could still never know the inherent kinship felt with another version of oneself. Calling it a relationship, a partnership, or anything of that sort that feels insufficient to describe what we share. There are no words for it; we are simply everything to each other.

Though our bond as a whole may be indefinable, obviously there’s a romantic and sexual side to it that’s heavily defined by mortal behavior. Gods don’t tend to form these sorts of relationships, so the way we act as a “couple” has ended up being based largely on what we’ve observed over long spans of human history. “Love” seems to be the closest representation of what we feel, though what we share goes far beyond that. And we do use that word to express our feelings for one another, even knowing that it’s basically meaningless to do so. Now I have to wonder if this jealous outburst is the result of Zamasu getting too carried away in the human-like influence of the romance we share, and he’s being swayed to act this way based on observations of how they behave when they betray each other.

The realization hits me that it’s a cover-up. This thought brings some sense of relief, knowing he doesn’t truly believe I would forsake our bond for any reason. But I can’t feel at ease yet, because there’s still something bothering him, and the fact that I don’t know what it is disturbs me immensely. As kindred spirits, it shouldn’t be possible to have misunderstandings or secrets between us. And yet, we’ve noticed during the years we’ve spent together that our personalities have gradually started to diverge. At our core, we’re both still Zamasu, but the differences in our life experiences, though in terms of time have been a very small percentage, have included hugely formative events like my decision to take over the body of Son Gokuu. Up until now, our emerging differences have been insignificant enough that they’ve only led to occasional minor disagreements. Now he’s intentionally hiding something from me, and even trying to cover it up. Still, I believe in our connection to each other more than anything, and I will figure out what’s on his mind, even if he doesn’t want me to know.

I can feel Zamasu becoming serious about getting me off as he starts to jerk me more vigorously. He breaks away from licking my nipples and looks me directly in the eye, maintaining eye contact as he repositions his body, silently imploring me to keep watching him. He puts his face near my dick, and though I expect him to finish me off with his mouth again, he keeps stroking away, still staring at me with a sly sparkle in his eyes. I finally succumb to his energetic hand job and release my load all over his face. The sensuousness of his joyously amorous expression increases many times over when covered in a fine sheen of jizz, I discover.

He can tell that I’m completely in awe of him, and grins lecherously as he licks his lips. “Mmm…the taste of you just drives me wild.” He wipes some of the cum off his cheek with his hand, then starts rubbing it against his nipples. “It feels so good on my body. I want to feel it…everywhere.” His hand moves down to his dick, touching the tip where his pre-cum is leaking out and mixing our fluids together. “I want it…Ah! Inside me…” He moans as he moves his hand around to his backside, pushing cum coated fingers into his asshole.

God damn, I wish I could move right now. He’s making me lust for him so hard, I can’t even think straight enough to figure out how to counteract his god powers and release myself from his hold. And he looks incredibly pleased with himself as he gazes down at me, relishing my obvious agitation. I’d love to throw him down and fuck that smug smirk right off him…though I’m sure that’s exactly what he wants me to be thinking right now, and doing so would only heighten his smugness to new levels.

He stops fingering himself and brings his face close to mine, offering me the cheek still dripping with cum. “Taste it,” he softly commands, quickly switching to his dominant side after teasing me with his submissiveness. We’re both capable of fulfilling either of these roles for each other, so I willingly submit and begin licking him. I brush my lips and tongue over his cheek, tasting my own essence, lapping up every last bit. When I attempt to move to the other side of his face to slurp up whatever he failed to wipe off before, he stops me by catching my mouth with his own, pulling me into a long, probing kiss. When he detaches his lips from mine, he scolds me playfully, “I said you could taste it, not have all of it. Now I’ll have to make more…”

His hand latches onto my dick again, though this time he’s slathering it in a lubricating substance of his own creation. He maneuvers his body so he’s straddling my lap facing away from me. I can see him peeking over his shoulder to make sure I’m watching him; clearly he’s chosen this position to ensure I have a good view of what he’s doing. So I obediently look at the intensely erotic sight of my own erection slowly entering his ass as he pushes down on me. He slides it all the way in in one drawn out, smooth motion, then rises up again to repeat the process. After a few of these protracted establishing thrusts, his hips start moving with more speed and power, and he starts throwing in moans and yelps that I can tell aren’t entirely genuine, yet still sound so enticing.

And as I remember what he stated at the beginning of all this, I have to wonder, how the hell does he consider this a punishment? Immobilizing me and “forcing” me to endure incredible sex hardly seems like an effective deterrent. Then I realize that calling it such was also a cover-up to hide his true intentions. Thinking back to everything he’s done to me so far, it seems more like this is supposed to be a showcase of his skills.

I’m momentarily distracted by the feeling that I’m about to come…except right before I get there, he suddenly slows his pace way down, preventing me from hitting that peak. Which only solidifies in my mind that he’s indeed showing off how well he knows my body. Back when we first teamed up, it was much easier for me to pleasure him than the other way around, since I had the advantage of knowing everything about the body I formerly occupied. Zamasu, on the other hand, had to learn how to best satisfy the body of Son Gokuu…and did he ever. Over the past few years, we’ve spent countless hours enjoying each other’s company, exploring and experimenting, doing things this body’s original inhabitant would never dream of. I’d say at this point, when it comes to pleasing my body, my other self probably knows even more than I do.

He knows too much, in fact, as he again builds me up to just before the point of climax, only to deny me once more. I protest with a dissatisfied grunt and he glances back at me, looking more self-satisfied than ever. He doesn’t say a word, but looking into his eyes I can clearly imagine his voice: “See, you don’t need anyone else. No one knows you like I do.” I know he doesn’t believe I’d leave him for Trunks, but I can tell there’s some threat he doesn’t want to lose me to, and I still have no idea who or what it is.

He repeats this pattern again. And again. And my mind starts becoming so mired in desperation that I can’t even keep count anymore, but after at least a half dozen repetitions I feel close to losing it. My body is trembling, aching for the release he refuses to grant me. I try to plead with him, though I can barely even speak through my haggard breaths. “Za…su…”

“Beg,” he states bluntly, not even bothering to turn his head to address me.

“Pl…se…”

And he immediately picks up the pace again, thrusting himself down onto me vigorously. I’m quickly pushed over the edge, the primal vocalizations pouring out of me shockingly undignified and unbefitting of a god. He waits until all of my seed has been emptied into him, then lies down next to me on his side, watching my body shiver as I recover. “How was that?” he asks, and though my eyes aren’t even open I can just hear the smirk in his voice.

Despite the fact that my breath is still coming in shallow gasps, I attempt to answer anyway. “You…you’re not really…doing what you said…”

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

“You said…you’d make me come…as many times as possible…in thirty minutes.”

He snickers. “Well, that’s not actually how I phrased it. I never mentioned anything about the number of times.” I open my eyes and see that he’s giving me a highly seductive look with those smoky gray eyes. “Just that I’d keep you coming continuously. Of course that includes the buildup to that payoff. Wouldn’t you rather have quality over quantity?” His hand drifts down to my cock again, caressing it tenderly. “Although we still have a few minutes left, so we could try for one more…”

But after that last insanely powerful orgasm, I find it highly unlikely I’ll be able to get hard again before time is up, even with Zamasu’s unmatched skill. “I…I don’t think it’ll…”

A slight furrow appears on his brow as he tries and fails to make my flaccid member erect again. But his expression turns alarmingly sadistic in an instant. “Then…I suppose…” He sits up and appears to be stroking his own erection now. “…there are other ways to make you come.” I realize that he’s not merely touching himself, but is applying lubrication.

I look at him warily. It’s not that we never do it this way—though usually it only happens if I’m rather intoxicated. I certainly don’t mind letting him do whatever he wants to me, but I am concerned about that vicious grin on his face. I realize now that he’s been so focused on demonstrating his precise control over my body that he hasn’t come even once yet, so he’s probably incredibly pent up and eager to unleash his passion on me.

I suddenly find myself being forcefully flipped over. His hand connects with my ass, smacking it sharply. I instinctively cry out, though not entirely from pain; I have a masochistic side too, after all, so this isn’t actually unpleasant to me. He continues slapping, and I groan salaciously each time he makes contact; I can’t work him up quite as much as he did to me earlier since I still can’t move, but I can do my best to play this up.

I hear him chuckle after he stops spanking me, brushing his hand against the spot he had been concentrating his strikes upon. “My, what a pretty pink color. So your ass can turn Rosé too?” Once he finishes admiring his handiwork, he yanks me upright roughly by my hair. He wraps an arm around me to help keep me vertical as his mouth attacks my neck and shoulder, gnawing on me ferociously then dragging his tongue across the wounds he’s caused. He moves up to my ear, tickling me with his warm breath as he whispers demandingly, “Who do you belong to?”

“You. Only you,” I answer unwaveringly, wanting him to know how much I mean these words. “We belong…only to ourselves.”

His voice sounds slightly calmer as he chimes in, though still a bit on edge. “Only us two. No other…”

“Only us kindred spirits, sharing the same mind and soul, are worthy of each other.” As I’m about to turn my head toward him, he’s already jerking me back and kissing me fiercely. I can sense a surprisingly large amount of insecurity behind this action. Somehow my efforts to allay his unspoken concerns have only made things worse.

He lets go of my hair and unwraps his arm from around me, causing my limp body to flop inelegantly down onto the bed. He rolls me onto my side and scoots forward to position himself between my legs, lifting the top one slightly. I grimace as he pushes his hips forward and slides himself inside me, not at all bothering to start out slow and gentle. As he continues thrusting at a steady pace, at first I’m biting my lip and hissing at the pain, since I’m not used to being taken by him this way. But as he continues, he starts hitting me in just the right spot, and I find myself panting and moaning involuntarily. He takes my sensual vocalizations as a sign that he can ramp this up a bit, and begins plunging into me deeper and faster. The room fills with the sounds of the bed creaking, our skin slapping, and my own moans quickly increasing in pitch and fervor. He brings his mouth down to my nipple, sucking and licking and biting, sending me even more into a frenzy; if I were able to move, I’d absolutely be writhing in pleasure right now. It won’t be long until he makes me come…

But I’m abruptly ripped from this blissful state as he pulls out of me, leaving me bereft. I sit up and glare at him. “What the hell…?” I start to shout, belatedly realizing that he’s released his hold on me and I’m able to move again.

“It’s been thirty minutes. Your punishment’s over now,” he explains in an irritatingly matter-of-fact manner. But then slyness creeps into his expression. “Now you’re free to do…whatever you please.” Obviously he’s expecting—and hoping—for me to exact revenge upon him. And I’m very much inclined to do so, but after spending the last half hour completely at his mercy, I don’t want this to play out exactly as he thinks it will.

I shoot him a sinister grin, then shove him down on the bed and crawl on top of him. “What I’d like to do is…” At first he looks at me with anticipation, fully expecting me to spread his legs and fuck the hell out of him. Then he looks perplexed as I straddle his lap instead. “…finish what you started.” I press my hips downward, inserting him inside me once more. As I rock up and down, my smile grows as I see him gripping the sheets and gasping, the flushed coloring on his face spreading like fire all the way out to his pointed ear tips. Even after everything he did to me before, he still hasn’t come yet, so this’ll probably be over quickly. I start to buck my hips wildly, relishing the lustful moans coming out of him. My hands are pressed against his chest to brace myself as I grind against him, and his hand moves up to rest upon mine. One of his fingers brushes against the Time Ring, and in that moment I see a hint of distress in his eyes.

And after more than thirty minutes of unsuccessfully trying to figure out what’s been bothering my other self, all it takes is one almost imperceptibly subtle change of expression to give me the one hint I needed to tie all the clues together. It’s true that we’re the same in most ways, but the biggest difference between our personalities is my high level of ambition. My need to exact justice on the evil I could no longer sit back and watch is what brought us together, but I realize now that he worries it could also tear us apart. It’s likely a fear he doesn’t want to legitimize by speaking aloud, but he thinks it’s possible that I’ll reach the point where I won’t need him anymore. Of course he knows no other god or mortal could come between us, but knowing that other versions of us exist in other worlds means there’s still someone else out there with whom I could form the same kind of unrivalled partnership. This reason for his jealousy does make logical sense, but I still can’t help but feel he should believe in our bond more than that. He needs to recognize how important he is to me, without having to resort to trying to “prove” his value.

I cease my hip movements momentarily, bringing my face down close to his. “Zamasu…” I cup his chin in my hand and smile tenderly. “I don’t need any other me but you.” His eyes widen, then soften, and he beams with pure joy and relief. I push myself up for leverage again and thrust him deeply inside me a few more times, bringing us both to our climax simultaneously. He throws his head back and lets out a tantalizing shout as his body shudders and ejaculates inside me. I wait for him to finish filling me up, then roll off of him onto my side. We wrap our arms around each other and spend several long moments just listening to our own heavy, perfectly synced breathing.

“Th-thank you,” Zamasu stutters once he fully regains his breath. “I…I realize it may have been unfounded, but I’ve been worrying about that recently.” He looks timid, almost ashamed that these doubts even crossed his mind. “I know you’ve noticed too that we’ve been diverging lately. We don’t always agree anymore, so I thought…maybe you’d rather move on and start over with another Zamasu. You could learn from what happened with us and find another version that you could stay better in sync with.”

I shake my head adamantly to dismiss his fears. “Traveling to another time in the first place was a huge risk. With each world having its own circumstances, there was no guarantee that I’d find another me. Other versions of myself could’ve not existed at all, or might’ve even been appalled by my plan and tried to stop me. I wasn’t looking for just any other me; it had to be one that wholeheartedly supported what I was doing…and I found that in you. I consider myself incredibly lucky to have ended up with you, because I have no doubt that this combination of us is the best possible partnership. So what if we have petty disagreements? That’s utterly meaningless in comparison to all that we do share. Our minds, our souls still resonate on a far deeper level than anyone else is capable, or even worthy of understanding. No matter where the Zero Mortals Plan takes us, you will always be by my side. I need only you, I want only you…”

I’m cut off as he leans forward and softly brushes his lips against mine. He smiles warmly at me. “I know. I should’ve never doubted you. It’s just…these feelings we have are so overwhelming, it’s hard for me to stay rational when it comes to you. But I know that I…that we…” Our eyes are fiercely locked in an unwavering gaze, both feeling completely engulfed by a swirl of unbearably strong emotions, and we say the words together.

“…Love ourselves…more than anything.” Practically speaking, expressing our love shouldn’t hold that much meaning, but in reality it’s profoundly heartwarming to do so. We’re compelled bring our lips together and share a delicate kiss. It stays very chaste at first, gradually progressing to us opening our mouths slightly, then a bit more to let our tongues touch lightly. We start with them barely brushing together, slowly work up to sliding them against each other, and eventually allow them to enter each other’s mouths. Even then we keep our pace unhurried, breathing into each other deeply, caressing each other with the soft touch of our lips and tongues. It becomes so overpoweringly intense that we ultimately need to break it off to get a hold of our senses again. We stare at each other intently, basking in the heated passion threatening to overflow once more. His eyes are shimmering from the pure enormity of our love for each other, and I’m sure mine must be too.

There may be no words that even come close to describing what this is. But what we share, what we feel, what we are is simply…

“Beautiful…”

THE END

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Hhnnnngggghh♥, oh my god, I love these two so much~! I don't even care if the fluff got too mushy, I just want them to be happyyyy...why they gotta die ;_; Anyway, I hope it was enjoyable, and I look forward to seeing what the fandom continues to produce for this ridiculously addictive couple (moar fics plz :3)

[tigerlilynoh]

Do you only write Sam/Ruby fanfic?

Actually, it’s more like I write Sam fics and Sam x Ruby just happens to be my otp, so Sam x Ruby fics are like 2/3rds of what I write.   My current Fic List (including the non-Sam x Ruby fics) is below the jump:

Sam Fics

The Uncomfortable Adventures of Sam in Law School

Word count: 148,508Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Explicit Sexual Content, Drug Use, Suicide/Suicidal Thoughts, Child Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Homophobia

AO3 Summary: Instead of going with Dean to look for their dad as he did in the pilot, Sam chose to stay at school. It’s gradually revealed that Sam’s life hasn’t gone as he’d hoped. Burdened with significant emotional trauma, medical problems, the stress of school, potentially unhealthy relationships, & the reemergence of the supernatural in his life- Sam tries to figure out how to survive in his strange new world.

What Remains of Alicia Banes

Word count: 3,128Warnings: Discussion of Depression, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempts

AO3 Summary: Eight months after the events of Twings & Twine & Tasha Banes (12x20), Sam receives a phone call from Max Banes asking for help. When Sam arrives, he discovers that the situation is far from what he was expecting.

The Poison

Word count: 1,327

AO3 Summary: Sam recognizes that he suffers from chronic pain and struggles with how to deal with it.

The Boy King (poem)

Words: 189

AO3 Summary: A short poem about Sam turned cold & cruel.

Sam x Ruby Fics

Don’t Stop Me Now

Word count: 8,118Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Sexual Coercion

AO3 Summary: When Sam and Dean are captured on a hunt, it’s up to Ruby to save them… in her own special Ruby sort of way.

Operation: Odin’s Eye

Word count: 12,483Warnings: Mild Sexual Content

AO3 Summary: Sam used to have a bright future ahead of him as a Man of Letters, until the visions started. Six years later, Sam’s life as a psychic working for the Men of Letters was about as far as it got from the happy life he’d dreamed of. Not only did he have to struggle with his status as a psychic, but Sam was more powerful that the Men of Letters knew. Dean liked to say that at least their shitty circumstances made their priorities simple: Don’t get caught. Don’t get killed.

But of course, nothing was ever simple when it came to psychics.

Job & Family

Word count: 590,000 for the main story plus 140,000 of deleted scenes/AU fic requestsWarnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Explicit Sexual Content, Depressions, Homophobia, Emotional Abuse

AO3 Summary: After Dean’s death (at the end of season 3), Sam & Ruby begin hunting down Lilith. Without Dean by his side, Sam finds the world of hunting to not be as black & white as he once thought. He just wants to get closure and move on with life, but outside forces aren’t making that so easy. By the time the brothers reunite, Sam is a very different person than he used to be.

The battle for Hell, Heaven, & the Apocalypse begins. In these crazy times, the boys find themselves with new enemies, allies, & bedfellows.

Notes: This story consists of three acts with significant untagged plot twists separating each act. The above summary only covers the first 100,000 words of Job & Family. If you don’t mind spoilers and want a more in depth summary feel free to message me

Also, this fic does feature Destiel, something I’ve been told scares off/repels some Sam fans. But it doesn’t even come up for a long time and I’ve been told by a few anti-Destiel readers that it didn’t bother them.

Peace & Poetry

Word count: 1,190

AO3 Summary: A reader requested some Sam & Ruby fluff.

So here’s a short little one shot of fluffiness complete with a little poetry, tea, and reading by a crackling fire.

An Invitation to Kill For

Word count: 29,750Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Explicit Sexual Content

AO3 Summary: While investigating three murders, Sam & Ruby accidentally accept an unnatural invitation. Trapped in the strange encounter, they need to navigate a supernatural soirée, and catch the killer before they become the next victims- all the while dealing with their growing romantic & sexual tension.

Cocktails & Conspiracy. High society & Secret society. Dancing & Dead bodies. Formal wear & Flirtations.

(Alternate Universe/Canon Divergent: This Ruby didn’t betray Sam at the end of season four and is arguably a Good!Ruby.)

Look for Me

Word count: 2,677Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content

AO3 Summary: Set in early season 12 (which hasn’t started airing as of posting this).

Sam finds himself talking with Ruby, who’s been dead for eight years. They discuss their relationship and nearly reconcile, but things aren’t exactly as they appear.

Note:  I’m casually writing an expansion of this story to make it multiple chapter, but I wouldn’t expect it to start updating for awhile.

The Wrong Bar

Word count: 686

AO3 Summary: Two angels, two demons, & a human walk into a bar… and it doesn’t go well.

Note: A super brief one-shot.

Other

A First Time for Everything

Word count: 2,269Warning: Explicit Sexual Content

AO3 Summary: This is a collection of the Destiel smut that didn’t quite make it into my primary fic (Job & Family). You don’t need to be current on Job & Family to read this, so I figured I’d post it for your pornographic enjoyment. There isn’t any real seguing between scenes, but I get the feel that isn’t what you came here for ;)