#ONE DAY THE CURTAIN FALLS ╲ writer › ooc.

[silversin]

ooc

shit man i have got to be more active here 😭im so sorry

[chigirizzz]

ONE STEP FORWARD, TWO STEPS BACK — I. SAE

warnings/tags: angst, hurt/a little bit of comfort, gn! reader, descriptions of physical symptoms of anxiety, ooc sae??, not proofread

summary: love is confusing. a part of you knows sae loved you; another part of you makes you question that. if both parts can't coexist, was your relationship worth fighting for?

wc: 2.3k

notes: this one was difficult to write man. i literally rewrote almost every paragraph dozens of times until i thought this entire thing was worth of being posted. while writing this i was literally biting my own fist out of frustration lmao.

»»——⍟——««

being a professional football player for sure brings a lot of things in your life: fame, money, awards, fans, haters, sponsors, you name it. but one thing that no one ever seems to talk about is the painful feeling inside someone’s entire body when under the extreme pressure—the shortness of breath, the rapid beating of the heart, the big knot on the throat, the tightening of the stomach, the burning sensation in the eyes due to increased blood circulation, and so on.

sae was used to those feelings. it was part of his life as an athlete—it was part of his life ever since he was a young boy, like when he had to get ready to leave his home country to live in another one, practically alone, without his family. for days, young itoshi sae felt in panic, nauseous and was disturbed by severe headaches.

it’s funny how emotions can make you physically sick, right?

of course, anyone can feel like this—it's completely normal and it’s what makes us humans. for a singer, those symptoms of sickness might happen mostly on the stage; for a baker, those nerves might happen mostly when getting ready the perfect wedding cake; for a writer, that anxiety might happen mostly when publishing a book, afraid of what people will think of it and if it will sell well.

for football players, those sensations are, most of the time, absorbed by their bodies and minds the moment they step on the field.

sae falls into this category.

then, at the end of the day, people can still live through situations that make them feel anxious outside of their professions—perhaps they have to get ready for a date; perhaps they got lost and can't find the right path to go home.

sae does not fall into this category. he is a rational man who avoids people and feelings not related to his career. he always knows what to do and what not to do.

but today, today is different. today sae itoshi is in the second category, and he might be stuck in there for a while, who knows.

sitting on the edge of the bed you both share, he inhales deeply as his hands make their way to grab said edges. the soft material of the bedspread under his fingers helped him cool down a little bit. so soft ♡. he exhaled after holding his breath for a few seconds.

he could hear your sobs.

you were sitting on the comfy sofa placed in the small, elegant balcony connected to your shared bedroom. although the curtains were blocking the outside view, the chilly, cold wind of the night would constantly move the brownish pink curtains to give the man the perfect—and heartbroken—sight of your figure in a curled up position, crying, with no sign of stopping so soon.

(brownish pink curtains… you wanted to buy those because it reminded you of sae's hair. of your boyfriend's hair. he could still hear your laugh when you suggested buying those.)

you too were in a psychological and physical distress; you too were in the second category—the difference, however, was that you have been in that same category for a while; meanwhile sae has only entered it today.

sae didn’t like the feeling of his sunken heart, of the big knot on his throat and of the tightening of his stomach’s walls when looking at you so miserable like that. and the worst part? he was the reason you were in that state.

in case you didn't understand yet, my dear reader, itoshi sae broke your heart once again and now your relationship is at a great risk of ending. by saying that sae has officially entered the "second category", we get the idea that said man is now anxious, scared, and physically sick with the thought of losing you—the anxiety that he only felt on the field and never in his personal life? he's feeling it right now.

and it’s only now that he understands how much he disappointed you ever since you two started dating. he remembers it all now: how he didn’t show any interest in your thoughts and hobbies (which is not true, he was just devoid of emotions but it still hurt you), how cold his responses could get, how he never denied that his career was the number one priority, the dry messages he sent you when you were excited, how mean he could be to other people even if you’d tell him how much you hated that attitude of his, how he would just gave you a gift after a fight instead of properly apologizing, how he stood up on you several times on a restaurant, all ready for him to arrive for your date, only to not appear because he preferred to stay late at practice and ended up forgetting the plans you both made…

the true—although not surprising at all—is, the oldest itoshi wasn’t good with feelings; he knew what to do and what not to do during matches, but when it came to human beings, he didn’t have an idea of what he should do or what to say—and let’s be honest, he didn't care about it either. sae did love you, though. the way he looks at you proves it; the marks he would leave on your body during nights so full of lust and romance that would be capable of shedding emotional tears from aphrodite’s eyes proved it; the way he'd roll his eyes and proceed to place soft kisses on your fingers when you complained of the water being too hot after finishing washing the dishes proved it.

the engagement ring he bought for you that is hidden in a safe place where you couldn’t find it proved it.

and now there might not be a day where he could put the ring around your finger and watch you giggle like a teenager in love.

his heart weighs heavier now, almost like it’s getting ready to be swallowed by the black hole formed on his stomach. fuck. he passes his hand through his reddish brown hair, tugging a few strands.

he got out of the bed and made his way to the door of the small balcony. there you were, still in a curled up position. your sobs have stopped already but a sniff or two could be heard.

“talk to me.” the genius didn’t know exactly what his tone was. tiredness? begging? regret? i-don’t-care-at-all-stop-acting-like-this? this man sure was confusing. there was no response, the only thing that could be heard were the sounds of the leaves of the trees moving with the wind, almost mocking, not sae, but you.

the way you rolled your eyes was unknown to him.

“seriously, y/n. head inside so we can talk—”

“fuck you, itoshi, leave me alone.” your intention wasn’t to be mean to him, you didn't think before speaking—it hurt both you and him—, but sometimes harsh words were better in specific times. this is a specific time, you should have shared your thoughts a long time ago. “you wanna talk now? you usually just buy me roses without saying anything.”

“i’m trying to fix things up.”

you turned your head to look at him, a sad smile on your lips. “and i appreciate it, really, but i’m just so fucking tired, sae.” your voice broke on the word “tired”. “and you just want to talk now because i said i was thinking of breaking up with you during our fight earlier? why, sae, why…” more tears were threatening to fall, voice still breaking.

teal colored eyes darkened. you were now looking at the view in front of you. you guys lived in a really peaceful neighborhood with big, expensive houses. the view was nothing special (a few trees, a few parked cars, a park near you), but it wasn't bad either. it's not like the view mattered as long as you lived with the love of your life.

even if said love of your life could sometimes be difficult to put up with.

you remember when you started dating him and met his younger brother, who had the audacity to say with a serious face that you would regret dating your boyfriend. although you now understand the point rin was trying to make, you didn't regret being with sae; you didn't regret anything at all. and if you were to be honest, you wanted to ignore the fight and just spend the night watching a movie or something, but you had to act like a mature adult and find a better solution.

were you, though, being a mature adult by giving that response to sae when he said he wanted to talk? you were genuinely confused.

sighting and while wiping your tears, you patted the uncopied place of the sofa beside you. "ok, let's talk. sit." the man did what you told and you moved away a few centimeters to give him more space. it was… silence. a mix of comfortable and uncomfortable silence.

without looking at you, sae rested his hand on top of yours, causing you to flinch a little by surprise, but paid no mind and let him interlock his fingers with yours, your thumb now caressing his pinky finger.

"what… what do you want to say?"

"were you telling the truth earlier?"

"about me breaking up with you?" a "mhm" was his answer. "yes, i was ." by the corner of your eye you noticed he stared at you after those words. your mind couldn't decipher what his thoughts were. "i don't like being stood up on a date two times in the same month, y'know?"

the man sighted. "i was busy with practice. and i literally warned you at a good time, you just got to the place too early."

you let out a chuckle in an ironic way. "you did warn me, yes, and i wouldn't mind if it was once or twice, but enough is enough, itoshi." it was the second time of the night—scratch that, it was the second time in your entire life that you called him by his surname. even when you were only friends, you would call him by his first name or by cute, silly nicknames. the second time the word itoshi came out of your mouth, it was full of venom; venom that seemed to wrap so tightly around his heart. "i know your career is extremely important to you. i understand that and i want to support you in any way, shape and form, however, things can't keep going like this."

"i see." the reddish brown haired man looked at both your hands still together. you didn't let go of him, you didn't want to and he didn't want it either. “i understand.”

he should say something more. something more profound, more romantic, capable of making you stay, but what can the prodigy do about it? sure, he'd be lying if he said he didn't want you to stay with him, but the decision was yours and he had to take it, whether he liked it or not; whether it’d left him heartbroken or not. besides, he now understands just how much he confused you with his true feelings. you both were tired of the constant kiss and make up.

just how sae could be an egoistic on the field, he could be also one on his private life (just ask literally anybody and they will confirm).

you let go of his fingers to turn your arm so that your palm was facing upwards, in contact with his, and you interlock your fingers again. “it’s not easy for me but… i feel like it’s the best choice.”

you spent a few seconds looking into each other's eyes, until sae leaned his forehead against yours and you did the same, with your eyes closed and enjoying the cold night breeze hitting your bodies, the breeze contrasting with the bittersweet heat formed in your hearts.

“so… is it decided…”

“yes… it is.” you were glad that he respected your decision and that you discussed the matter without further discussion. “i’ll still pack my things today. in the morning i’ll call a friend and ask them to stay at their house for a few days. then i’ll see how it goes.”

“hm.”

he offered to help you pack your bags, but you refused—him helping you would only make you more emotional and rethink your decision. that night, you and your now ex-boyfriend slept on the same bed, back to back.

»»——⍟——««

"hey,” it was now the next morning and you had just gotten ready to leave the house. sae called you before you had a chance to get out the door. “do not hesitate to call me if you need anything.”

a smile formed on your lips. now that you were changing your path in life, it seemed that you just lost a heavy weight on your shoulders. sae didn't like that, but again, he was in no position to make you stay. “ thank you sae, really. the same goes for you, though. and don’t overwork yourself.”

those words and the little chuckle that followed hurt sae like a bitch. you always told him to not work himself till exhaustion, yet he always ignored you…

“well… goodbye, itoshi.” before he’d answer, you stepped out of the door, closing it behind you.

as the sound of the engine of your friend’s car starting up reached his ears, he made his way to the bedroom, to reach out for the engagement ring he bought for you. he layed on the bed, hugging the tiny ring’s box, hot tears running silently down his cheeks to the pillow.

you were gone. you were officially gone.

»»——⍟——««

tagging: @izzylovestnbhd

thank you for reading. likes, reblogs and coments are appreciated ♡

[amber-sekio]

One-Shot Prompt

Title: And if you can forgive, love will truly live PT: 2

Fandom: BSD -Bungo Stray Dogs

Ship: Dazai x Reader

Prompt: “'Sorry for showing up like this.’ You sighed, your shoulders relaxing in silent defeat. ‘Come in.’”

!Gender of reader is not specified!

A/N: I don't believe there are any major triggers in this part, correct me if I'm wrong though. Also, I feel like Dazai was very ooc which is partially why this took so long, of course, the main problem was writer's block

Word count is about 2.7k

Part 1 of And if you can forgive, love will truly live

Tag: @foulwaterss

Warmth. 

You pulled the person in your arms further into your chest. 

... 

Person? 

You opened your eyes, blinking rapidly as the morning sun pierced your eyes through the open curtain. 

As your vision adjusted you could make out a head of soft, fluffy brown curls tucked against your chest. 

The memories of the previous day, or rather night, seeing as you slept through most of the day, came flooding through your brain. 

Right. 

Dazai knocked on your door last night. 

Soaked to the bone from having likely walked to your place with no umbrella despite the fact it had been raining the entire day. 

And then... you let him in. 

A dangerous decision both for him with his new job and for you with the Mafia. 

But he listened to you, took a shower, ate most of his food, and he even let himself be vulnerable with you, choosing to forgo his bandages because he trusts you. 

You looked down at him as you brought your hand up to card your fingers through his hair, a smile pulling at your lips as he nuzzled into your chest. 

He reminded you of a cat. 

Cute. 

More like a black cat with all the bad things people thought of him. 

Either way, he was cute. 

Your smile turned bitter as the thought crossed your mind. 

Even after four years, you still had feelings for him. 

You sighed softly, letting your face relax, enjoying the soft moment before Dazai awakes and you have to talk about everything. 

You had almost soothed yourself back to sleep with the methodic movement of your fingers through Dazai's hair when Dazai finally began to stir awake. 

You watched as Dazai's eyes fluttered open slightly before he whined as the light hit his eyes, shoving his face half into your chest and half into the sheets. 

"Evil... leaving the curtains open just to blind me..." His voice was pitched with a whine yet rough from having just woken up. 

You chuckled softly. 

"Eh, the sun blinded me too when I woke up." You spoke up, your voice soft in the morning. "I would've gotten up but someone was busy nuzzling into me." You teased softly as you began running your finger through his hair once more. 

"What time is it?" He spoke softly into your chest. 

"I don't know..." You yawned softly. "I was about to fall asleep again before you woke up." 

Even without seeing his face, you could tell a smirk pulled at his lips. Seems like you still knew him pretty well. 

"Were you watching me sleep? How perverted~." He teased softly. 

"Oh shut it. I wasn't thinking anything like that. Of course, you know that though." 

Dazai hummed softly pretending to be unaware. 

"Oh~? Then what were you thinking, hm?"  

You stopped carding your fingers through his hair to reach down and lift his chin up, forcing him to look at you in the eyes. 

"Thinking about how much like a cat you were and how that made you cute." You spoke honestly and directly, not breaking eye contact. 

You watched in amusement as his still-not-fully-awake brain processed your words. A soft blush bloomed on his cheeks that steadily grew darker in color before he shoved his face back into your chest, whining softly. 

"Evil. Your evil." 

You laughed softly as you let him hide his face. 

"Like I said, cute." 

"Shut up." 

The conversation lulled after that, as the both of you took in the comfort of waking up in another person's arms, warm. 

"Do you want some coffee?" 

He hummed softly as he processed the unspoken words. 

'We need to talk about it.' 

"Sure" He spoke yet didn't move from the warmth of your body. 

You sighed as you ran your hand down his back before forcing yourself out of the warmth of your bed. 

"I'll call to you when the pot is done." You remarked as you walked out of your room toward the kitchen. 

You hummed softly as you waited for the pot to brew, your mind drifting. 

You knew roughly the reason behind Dazai's leaving but you still wanted to hear him explain his thought process. 

And, more than anything, you wanted to hear a damn apology. Not just for leaving you, but for leaving Chuuya, and for blowing up his car, because that was a low blow. Yet you also still understood his reason behind that action as well. A silent message to not follow, to not look for him. 

It would be nice if you could get Dazai to apologize directly to Chuuya, but you knew that it would be like trying to pull teeth. 

You were jolted from your thoughts as the coffee pot beeped at you. 

You methodically pulled out a mug and began filling it, leaving enough space for creamer. 

You blinked. 

Right. 

You reached for another cup, placing it on the island counter as you called out for Dazai through the silence. 

You began to fill his cup when you heard a thump from your room followed by what sounded like cloth against the floor. 

You looked up as you were about to start pouring creamer into Dazai's mug, you paused at the sight of Dazai being practically swallowed by the fitted blankets he had pulled from your bed. 

You chuckled softly. 

"It's cold. Stop laughing." He pouted, his lips pulled down in a way that only made you chuckle more. 

Cute. 

"How are you planning to drink your coffee with all the blankets on?" 

He didn’t respond as he walked, or rather waddled, over to a stool at the island counter. You finished pouring the creamer into his coffee as he maneuvered himself onto the stool with the blankets still practically swallowing him. You push the mug towards him as you take your own mug in hand. 

You watch as he brings up his hands, wrapped up under the edges of the blankets, to wrap around the mug. The blankets keep him from moving his arms much, so he has to hunch forward to take a sip of his coffee. 

“You know it’d be easier if you just took the blankets off?” 

“It’s cold.” A pout pulled at his lips again and a petulant whine left him. 

“I have jackets that should fit you.” 

“The blankets were right there though.” 

“More like you're just lazy…” You mumbled under your breath, sipping at your coffee. 

You cleared your throat. 

“So…” 

He didn’t speak up, but he glanced up at you from where he was hunched over his mug. 

“I… already know mostly everything with Oda…, but could you tell me what solidified your decision?” You asked, tone hesitant and unsure. 

You watched as he stared into his mug, worried he would try and avoid talking. He never did like talking about his problems. Not that you could talk, you were the same, preferring to simply enjoy each other’s company without ever talking about your problems. Of course, that was before he left, now you spent your time having a glass of fine wine with Chuuya. On those nights, typically, only Chuuya would talk, with you speaking up mostly to keep the conversation going. 

“There were… many reasons… behind my decision.” He paused; the silence awkward but he clearly was going to say more. “Odasaku’s… um…” He didn’t look up at you, but you could hear as he tried to hide the cracking of his voice. 

“Take your time, there’s no rush.” You hummed softly as he struggled to find his words. 

“Right.” 

You sipped from your mug as you waited for him to continue. 

“Odasaku’s last words to me… he asked me to…” 

“I understand.” You didn’t want to force him to answer when you could put the pieces together yourself. “And the… other reasons?” 

He idly sipped at his coffee. 

“Well… before I continue, can I ask a question?” 

You looked up from your mug. 

“Um… sure, what is it?” 

He let out a sigh, it sounded tired. It seemed like he was forcing himself to ask you his question. 

Almost like he was scared of what your answer would be. 

He huffed out. “What is your opinion of me?” 

He didn’t look at you, gaze fixated on his own reflection from where he stared down at his coffee. 

You hesitated, not having expected his question. 

“My opinion of you?” 

You asked more to fill the silence, to allow yourself time to think about it. 

You knew that he could be cruel. 

You knew that he could be kind. 

You knew you felt an amalgamation of feelings towards him. 

You felt sadness, that he didn’t tell you anything. 

You also felt angry that he left, that he didn’t tell you cause you would’ve- 

You would’ve… 

You would’ve joined him. 

You would’ve left with him. 

Because you loved him. 

More than anything, you loved him. 

Despite everything, you still loved him. 

You let out a soft breath. 

Looking down at the half-empty mug in your hands. 

“Well… I know that you can be cruel, but I also know that you're capable of being kind, of caring for others. And I feel sad and betrayed that you didn’t tell me or leave anything for me to know what you were doing. Angry that you left me because…” You could feel a lump in your throat as you tried to force the words out. “Because despite that… if you had come to me that night… I would’ve joined you.” 

You looked up to find him staring at you with a shocked expression, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you found it cute. 

“After everything we’ve been through… I’ve seen your highs and lows, I’ve seen you mercilessly kill and torture, but I’ve also seen you with Oda and Ango, with Chuuya. And I… have never hated you. I’ve never thought you to be inhuman.” 

You paused. A gentle smile pulled at your lips. 

“I still don’t, Dazai.” 

“I-…” He looked almost on the verge of tears, and you felt compelled to rush to his side on the other side of the kitchen island and comfort him. 

“Well… the main reason I didn’t tell you, or Chuuya was because I was absorbed by my own view of myself… that I didn’t think anyone could possibly see me differently. Especially you… we were similar and so I figured your opinion of me was no different than mine. I believed that with how similar we thought that you must have hated me because-… because I hated myself.” 

He looked down at his mug, unable to meet your gaze. 

Your heart ached at his words. 

“Dazai…” You spoke hesitantly. “Dazai… what is your opinion of me?” 

He looked up at you. “My opinion of you?” He repeated your words back at you. 

His gaze shifted to the side as a soft pink tinted his cheeks. 

“I always thought of you as something of an angel. You were smart but quiet, stern as a mafioso should be, but you were also kind. You formed a connection with me similar to the one I have with Chuuya but different. You understand me in a different way. Like a guardian angel, you’ve stopped me from many of my suicide attempts, maybe even more than Chuuya has. When I watched you fight it was like I was watching an angel of death, bloody, but still pure in a way only you could ever achieve.” 

He stopped himself, looking up at you. 

You could feel your cheeks burning as he spoke, looking into your eyes. 

“I have always loved you. As undeserving as I am, I have always loved my guardian angel.” 

“I- you… love me?” You found yourself short of words as your brain tried to process that Dazai, who you have loved for longer than you would like to admit, loves you as well. 

As your brain finally caught up, the vibrant blush on your cheeks softened, and the smile that pulled at your lips was just as soft. 

Placing your mug down, you reached your hands across the island counter to grab his hands, pulling them from where the blankets were still wrapped around them. 

“I love you too, Dazai.” 

You watched as the blush on his cheeks grew a few shades darker. 

Cute. 

You dropped his hands as you walked around the island to stand next to him. He turns towards you, cheeks still vibrantly flushed. 

You reach out, your hand hovering over his lower cheek, prompting him to tilt his head up at you. 

“May I?” 

You could see as he swallowed, calming himself. 

“Only if we remain exclusive.” 

“And this remains secret.” You added, smiling at him. 

You let your hand rest on his cheek, bringing the other one up to rest on the back of his neck, still bare of bandages. You leaned down the rest of the way, connecting your lips with his. 

His lips were soft against yours, and the kiss was sweet. 

A soft sound akin to a whine left him as you pulled away slowly. You chuckled as he flushed, embarrassed by his own neediness. He pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms around your waist as the blankets fell off his shoulders hanging off his waist. 

“Shut up.” His voice was slightly muffled from where he pressed his face against your chest. 

You laughed. “But I didn’t say anything~.” 

“I said shut up.” 

“You're even cuter when you're flustered, you know?” 

He whined into your chest, refusing to let you see his face. 

You stopped teasing him, letting the soft moment consume you in warmth. 

“I’m glad you're safe. He’d be proud of how far you’ve come.” 

The arms around you tightened and you could barely make out a sharp intake of air. You brought a hand up to his hair, running your fingers through it comfortingly. 

“I know he would.” 

“I-… thank you.” 

A comfortable silence settled on the two of you for a few minutes as you held each other until Dazai spoke up, mumbling softly. 

“I’m sorry for hurting you and Chuuya…” 

“I forgave you a while ago, and while Chuuya would never say it out loud, he has as well, even if he’s still angry about it.” 

“I missed sitting on the dock with you.” 

“Those moments of serenity in between the chaos were nice.” 

“You have the day off, right?” 

“I don’t have work until tomorrow morning. Though, speaking of work, shouldn’t you be at work right now?” 

“Unimportant. Anyways we should cuddle and watch something.” 

You laughed joyously, your arms tightening around him. “Even after four years, you're still you, huh? I’m glad you’re more open though. Honest. I like being vulnerable with you.” You smiled down at him, moving the hair from in front of his face to behind his ear. “The light suits you, Dazai.” 

Dazai hid his face against your chest again, though you could tell he was flushed with how red his ears were. 

“I thought I told you to shut up. I demand you carry me to the couch now.” 

You scoff playfully. “What are you, a princess?” 

“Yes, and you must serve me.” He replied matter-of-factly. 

“Right.” You reached down with one hand to grab the blankets that had fallen around his waist, pulling them up around his shoulders and then wrapping them tightly around him. You pick him up effortlessly, chuckling as he lets out an involuntary squeak. 

You carried him over to the couch, laying him across your lap as you reached to grab the remote off the coffee table. 

“What shall we watch, Your Highness?” 

You watch as he thinks over your question before you notice a drop in his mood. 

“Is something wrong?” 

“I don’t like how good you’ve gotten at reading me.” 

You chuckle as he pouts. “I’ve always been good at reading you, I’m just choosing to mention what I see now. So, what’s up?” 

“Do you still have that watchlist we made when we were 17?” 

You smiled at his question. 

“Yeah, I never deleted it. And I don’t think I’ve watched anything from it.” You hummed thoughtfully. “Not that I’ve really had the time to anyway.” 

“Good. Pick something off of that then.” 

“No specific genre?” 

“Not really.” 

With a soft smile, you click into the playlist of unwatched shows and movies. You pick a random one and start it, more focused on the unguarded and genuine smile on Dazai’s face. 

It was nice. 

He was alive and doing better than before. 

Everything would be fine. 

And hopefully, you get him to actually apologize to Chuuya.

[inkdaydreams]

Aaaaaa I love those cooking prompts! I'd like to make an addition to it. Imagine person B and C want to do something special for person A, so they work together to try to make something. But despite their best efforts it still doesn't turn out right and person A comes home to a big mess. But person A still loves what they made anyway (even if it is barely edible)

^ this is from an account called @ot3-promptz

“how did you fail a survey?”

“this is the opposite of what i told you to do.”

^ some prompts from the fluff list in my requests page.

@rdlesbiantrash i am SO sorry i took this long to write something, i was experiencing writer's block and i also changed the plot several times before settling on this prompt. i hope your moving day went smoothly even tho it's been a while!

You had one job.

Synopsis: Emma and Y/N try making Regina a birthday cake and it goes badly.

Warnings: kinda ooc Emma bc she can cook a little but in this fic she is just as hopeless as the reader, not my best work because I had ridiculously bad writer's block.

A strand of Emma's hair fell in front of her face as she mixed the batter.

"This is the opposite of what I told you to do." You sighed, making her smile. "No seriously, Emma, what if it fell in the batter?"

You both wanted to make Regina's birthday perfect, but you were definitely more stressed about it than Emma. She put the fun in baking with you today, while you brought the rigorous organisation to the table. A perfect balance.

You dusted your hands on your apron and took the hair tie out of her hair. She let you make a much tighter ponytail, pulling the loose strand in it so it wouldn't fall out.

"Regina won't mind." Emma shrugged, making you raise an eyebrow.

"Won't mind? Regina won't mind hairs in her food?" You questioned aloud, making her laugh.

"I'm just messing with you, Y/N," Emma smiled again, taking you arms behind her and bringing them forward, making you hug her.

You stood there for a while, humming contentedly while she held your hands around her stomach. You had all been busy with your work recently, but you made a point to prioritise birthdays, so this was the first time you and Emma had spent all day together in a while.

"We should probably get back to work." You admitted, after some peaceful silence.

"Right!" Emma agreed, turning around in your arms to kiss your nose, before you let go of her and both went back to your respective stations.

You were on icing, and you were very pleased with how it was going. It wasn't difficult, but you pretended it was a science to boost your own ego. You had perfected your formula and knew every detail down to the exact number of drops of food colouring needed to dye the mixture a deep purple. You kept that number in your mind now so you could write it down later. You didn't want to forget this.

You looked in the corner of your eye, the sight of your girlfriend pouring cake batter directly into the pan in your peripheral vision. Sighing with relief, you put your icing in the fridge and waiting for the cake to bake. You were going to make it in time.

"Presents?" Emma asked,

"on the couch in the living room." You responded, then quizzed her yourself. "Decorations?"

She wrapped an arm around your waist.

"I've got the balloons and streamers all around the hall and on the stairs, and I've drawn the curtains so she doesn't see anything until she comes in herself." She affirmed.

You exchanged a look, observing one another's serious faces. It made you laugh, and Emma pulled you closer to her.

"Can't believe we did it." She grinned, taking a hold of your chin.

"Yeah, we deserve a girlfriend award." You agreed, letting her pull you into a kiss.

It was soft and slow, a stark contrast to the hectic morning the two of you had trying to get everything together. It was like time had paused, and you recovered on one another's lips.

A soft click at the front door pulled Emma out her trance. She grabbed your arm and grinned.

"Come on!"

The two of you rushed to the front of the house to meet Regina, who was currently taking off her coat. The decorations were making her smile already, you couldn't wait to show her what else was coming.

"Happy birthday!" The two of you exclaimed in unison, pulling Regina in a massive hug.

You kissed her left cheek and Emma kissed her right. You snuck a kiss on her lips and Emma shoved your shoulder playfully.

Emma took her hand and led her to the living room, where she saw a bunch of store bought streamers and balloons, along with a handmade banner saying "happy birthday!!", that Henry had helped make before he went off to school. Emma gave you a wink and you slipped into the kitchen, walking over to the oven.

You switched it off and grabbed your oven mitts, swinging the door open, only to be greeted with a very strong burning stench.

"Oh no..." you whispered to yourself.

"Emma!" You called, running out into the living room, immediately faking calmness when Regina's eyes met yours. "A little help, please?"

Emma glanced from Regina to you. Regina wasn't stupid. She could tell something was wrong, but it amused her, so she smiled and let Emma follow you into the kitchen.

"You had one job, Emma." You hissed, showing her the burnt cake you had now put on the stove top. "Did you even read the instructions?"

"Yeah, I did everything right! I just put it on double the heat because Regina was coming earlier than we planned. I thought it would be done in half the time." She explained, her voice low as she glanced back at the door.

Your jaw dropped. Even you knew that wasn't how it worked. The feeling of instant regret flushed across your face, and you felt it heating up.

"Is everything okay in there?" Regina asked, and you heard footsteps making their way to the kitchen.

"Fix this!" You whispered desperately, pecking Emma's cheek then hurriedly slipping out the door.

You came face to face with Regina and forced a very dramatic smile. She took in the sight of you, then sniffed the air. Her nose crinkled slightly and she reached for the door knob.

You gasped, planting your body against the door and blocking her path. With your mouth hanging open, you faked a yawn and stretched your arms dramatically.

"Be honest with me, Y/N." Regina said firmly, putting a hand on the door, effectively pinning you in place, "do you need any help?"

"Me?" You laughed nervously, pausing before practically shouting. "Yes, yes I do, actually!"

You took Regina's arm and placed it around your waist, maneuvering so you were leading her out of the place.

"It's about this survey. I think I did it wron-"

"How do you fail a survey?" She demanded, taking both of your wrists and holding you in place.

The two of you paused as you heard it. Emma coughed a little from the other side of the door. You don't know what she was reaching for, but her behind ended up hitting the door and it flew open. Regina let go of one of your wrists and with the swish of her fingers, there was a purple glow holding the door open. Emma froze in her tracks, not daring to look behind her. Regina raised an eyebrow, then the smell of the burning cake hit her senses and she hummed understandingly.

"Come here, Emma, it's okay." She said lowly, watching her approach the two of you.

She pulled the two of you into another hug and chuckled before speaking again.

"I appreciate the effort." She insisted.

You and Emma shared a melancholy look. You both glanced at the kitchen door in mourning. Perhaps you were being dramatic, but you two had been excited about finishing the cake in the nick of time.

"I even made purple icing, you know because your powers are purple," you trailed.

"And I got you this really pretty candle. It was shaped like a flower." Emma added.

You felt a kiss press against your cheek and glanced over to see Emma receive the same treatment, a red lipstick mark on her flesh.

"Thank you, loves, I'm so lucky to have two such caring girlfriends planning my birthday." Regina reassured the two of you, taking you both to sit down on the couch.

There was silence for a moment before Emma spoke up.

"We're lucky you're in charge of cake duties for our birthdays." She commented, making Regina and you smile.

"Save that icing, Y/N, because I am teaching both of you how to bake. There is no reason two grown adults should not know how to bake a basic sponge cake." Regina said.

You put your head on her shoulder and burrowed into her arm, and Emma wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Okay, it's on." She said cockily, secretly excited to eat an edible cake today.

[sothischickshe]

Hi!!! Green: Pencil, typewriter, or computer? Red: What type of writer’s block do you experience the most?

Green: Pencil, typewriter, or computer?

I answered this one before and the answer was none of the above! i want a PEN, please! if i must choose from one of those then i guess pencil, but i would complain about it the whole time and demand a pen.

Red: What type of writer’s block do you experience the most?

well, i don’t really run into it much, and i’m not sure i believe in it. or at least, i think it’s a very broad term trying to shove too much under its umbrella, and it gets weirdly romanticised.

ive definitely been ‘blocked’ on stories im not ready to tell, but i havent fussed about it and ive waited till the idea has grown and felt more complete, and ive felt more capable of writing it well.

when i started writing-and-posting, i felt like i had a lot of ideas and stories in a short space of time, and then it started to take longer, both to have an idea and then for it to come to fruition. and i def had moments of like oh no what if i never write/post anything again??? but then i was like, ok calm down it’s been a week or whatever.

i think i’m pretty good at just getting SOMETHING down, even if i know this section is rough or missing a lot or ooc or probably going to be deleted, bc you can edit the fuck out of something bad, but there’s not a lot you can do to something that doesn’t exist. (i find writing by hand really helpful for this.)

there are DEFINITELY times when ive wanted to write or edit (especially early in quarantine) and ive not been able to get as much done as i wanted. however, i think that was less ‘writer’s block’ and more... being exhausted? like i literally kept falling asleep when i was writing the first drafts, lol. and i reallllly need curtains in the living room man, me and my overtired eyes would try to go edit and just be like... i do NOT know about this burning sunlight. time for a nap methinks.

and ive DEFINITELY been frustrated during editing, like knowing something’s off but not knowing what exactly the problem is and therefore not knowing how to fix it, but i think i’m hopefully getting better at trusting in my instincts and the process and understanding that: im gonna hate the first draft but i can fix from there, all the fixes cannot possibly come at once, discovering stuff in the edit is so fucking fun, a lot of the fixes come from thinking about it but not looking at the doc, the unconscious mind is very powerful, if it’s not fun you can just stop.

i know ive got a fairly atypical writing process, but it works well for me! 

and i realise this wasnt exactly the q but some things which i have found help me avoid feeling blocked are:

having a list of stories i want to get to one day (and thinking about them a little more all the time but not approaching them till i feel ready to write them)

taking breaks in between finishing something and starting something (i mean i only write one thing at a time, but i think even if you write lots of things at a time, breaks of some kind are still important! otherwise your brain overheats and explodes)

not stressing and getting some sleep

finding a process that works for you and trusting in it and following it (and if it doesn’t work for something, being willing to try something else! being dogmatic is no fun)

skipping over what you can’t address now (whether that’s writing a bad first version you can edit from, or realising there’s a problem with a scene but saving fixing that for later, or acknowledging you’ve identified a flaw in your writing but going hey that’s too significant to address for this story but it’s something i’ll be more attendant to in the future)

not assuming that an inability to write or finish something is some deep significant writer’s block.... you might just be hungry or stressed about work or unable to focus till you reply to that email. if you have to attend to something else to get your mind in gear, that’s cool!

try to shut down on procrastination options while you’re trying to focus, but also don’t beat yourself up if you can’t focus rn. indulge! fuck it! the weird shit you end up googling might make itself into the story or a future one! you might end up relaxing into a writing mood!

just be kind to yourself. especially if you’re (primarily) writing as a hobby. if deadlines aren’t something you enjoy, don’t force them. things take as long as they take!

writey askys

[lady-duskveil]

The Basics ––– –

NAME: Aleyria Duskveil. AGE: An inappropriate question. BIRTHDAY: Late winter. RACE: Ren'dorei. GENDER: Female. SEXUALITY: Pansexual. MARITAL STATUS: In an open arrangement.

Physical Appearance ––– –

HAIR:

Once a cascading curtain of spun gold, the ravages of the void have leeched color and luster from the waves of Aleyria’s hair, its softly roiling silver waves reminiscent of the glint of spider silk in the witching hour. Left loose to be tossed by the whims of the mercurial winds, she somehow always manages to maintain elegant curls and a certain grace that sees it caress the curve of her spine in a way most provocative.

EYE:

Faintly bruised at their sockets by the wonders of her scholarly pursuits, Aleyria’s eyes are gently swept into feline intrigue by a careful application of stiletto sharp liner and smoky powder. Her gaze lightens only at the twilit violet points that illuminate the shadow's incursion into her dark sclera, parting with an unearthly glow that yet defies the corruption of her practices.

HEIGHT:

Five feet, eight inches.

BUILD:

Curvaceous, in a word -- atypical for elven standards of beauty, in others. Though she hardly lacks for the elegance that the timeless blood of the elves gifted her, a certain softness clings to the fullness of her hips, the swell of her bust. While there is much to be admired of her, she favors intimation and subtlety over outright provocation: the peek of a long, shapely leg from the slit of a slip of figure-hugging silk that otherwise maintains her modesty is all that can be expected of this scholar.

DISTINGUISHING MARKS:

An oddity or a trick of the light, the perceptive note that her shadow moves independently of her, shifting outwards in tenebrous tendrils or otherwise mirroring whatever so amuses it in play. At the most dire, that shade might reveal itself to be something more than benign mockery - with good luck, one will never have to see that day.

Whether swept up into preternatural magicks or practicing some eldritch, long forgotten ritual, thin, runic scarring comes to life on her pale skin when her power is motivated to come to the surface. At its height, the lambent light of those foci are no different than the color of her eyes.

Her powerful grip upon the void has been as much a damnation as it is a blessing. That shadowplay has chased much of the living color from her, leaving her a specter of her former self. Accordingly, the cut and color of all of her clothing tends towards that which will flatter her most - black on black on black.

COMMON ACCESSORIES:

Aleyria is fond of creature comforts and accessorizing the otherwise plain gowns that she dons, indulging in a wealth of rings, necklaces and earrings that dangle from the lobes or curve to the sharp points of her elven ears. Her hands - rarely without gloves - often favor the silken fur of a black shroud that hugs her shoulders. Though plain, a curious rosary woven of black beads hangs at her breast, the visage of a veiled maiden at its end. 

Personal ––– –

PROFESSION: Dark Sister of the Cult of Forgotten Shadows. Scholar. Sorceress. In all things magically inclined towards subversive shade and the madness it imparts in the mind, she is an expert. HOBBIES: Making music (harp), painting, fine embroidery, insect collecting, reading, oneiromancy, gardening and archery. LANGUAGES: Polyglot, though particular to Darnassian and Thalassian. RESIDENCE: Hardly a woman of little means, Aleyria keeps a quaint little estate that favors practicality and comfort over the riches that she had accrued in her life. The decor is antiquated, austere and subdued, and the walls are scattered with countless paintings whose haunting depictions are spawned straight from the reaches of her dreams. The Duskveil estate is at once a work of art, a sanctuary for a scholar’s mind and an homage to her studies in the shadow. BIRTHPLACE: Southern Quel'thalas. RELIGION: The Void. FEARS: Loss of control; being robbed of freedom; total and utter loneliness; certain breeds of the Scourge.

Relationships ––– –

SPOUSE:  Deceased. CHILDREN: Deceased. PARENTS: Deceased. SIBLINGS: None. OTHER RELATIVES: Plenty. ACQUAINTANCES: Plenty.

Traits ––– –

extroverted / introverted / in between disorganized / organized / in between close minded / open-minded / in between calm / anxious / in between disagreeable / agreeable / in between cautious / reckless / in between patient / impatient / in between outspoken / reserved / in between leader / follower / in between empathic / unempathic / in between optimistic / pessimistic / in between traditional / modern / in between hard-working / lazy / in between cultured / uncultured / in between loyal / disloyal / unknown / in between faithful / unfaithful / unknown / in between

Additional Information ––– –

SMOKING HABIT: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess DRUGS: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess ALCOHOL: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

Flaws

moody | short-tempered | emotionally unstable | whiny controlling | conceited | possessive | paranoid | liar impatient | cowardly | bitter | selfish | power-hungry greedy | lazy | judgmental | forgetful | impulsive spiteful | stubborn | sadistic | petty | unlucky

Strengths

honest | trustworthy | thoughtful | caring | brave patient | selfless | ambitious | tolerant | lucky intelligent | confident | focused | humble | generous merciful | observant | wise | clever | charming cheerful | optimistic | decisive | adaptive | calm | loyal

RP Hooks ––– –

Lady of Ruin

Once a lady of an esteemed noble house within Quel’thalas, the fall of the house of Dawnveil’s foremost southern estate was a source of ruin that led her to the grace of the Light long ago. Those particularly embroiled in the politicking of Silvermoon’s most esteemed court may remember her as as one of the devout brides of the Radiant Flame, a cloister of high elven priestesses and a far cry from the shadowy scholar she has become. Some may even seek to reconnect with her in a search for understanding - what could have possibly led her so far from the path of righteousness?

Scholar of Shadow

Particular to studies of the shadow arts and their intersection with the deplorable whispers of the Old Gods, Aleyria’s specialization in the exploration of the realm of madness has been cause for criticism by some. As such, her inquisitive mind is ever in search of lucrative partnerships with other enterprising individuals that might lend a hand to the often dangerous ordeals she puts herself through in pursuit of knowledge. Those of fragile mind need not apply - or do, if you’ve an interest in serving as the perfect subject she needs.

Forgotten Sister

Not all that Aleyria pledges herself to are wild romps through forgotten ruins in search of artifact and antiquity. The Cult of Forgotten Shadows, the conclave of shadow priesthood that praises and idolizes the absence of the Light, is paid due pittance in her travels as a priestess. To those less inclined to seek the embrace of the Light’s warmth in healing the wounds beaten into their ragged flesh, Shadow may prove an apt companion - if you don’t mind listening to the soft whisper of her proselytizing and opening yourself to greater corruption.

OOC ––– –

Hey! I'm Nika. I'm a 28 year old witchy lady living in northeast America in the middle of the woods. I'm an amateur artist, decent writer and avid roleplayer. I'm also a gigantic goofball and a huge introvert, but if I like you, you'll know it. I’m looking for more connections for my sultry shadow priestess, Aleyria.

As I don’t find myself playing much World of Warcraft anymore, most of my RP is done through Discord. I prefer multi-paragraph roleplay but can and will adjust to my partner, and plot lines and long term RP are loved. I'm more than willing to work together on or run story arcs. I am lore-compliant, but appreciate fanon and flexibility.

► Please be 18+. I will not roleplay with you if you are not of age. Sorry, but this is to protect myself and to protect you. ► IC is not OOC. I'm not interested in being the target for frustration or sexual interest. I will block you if you make me uncomfortable. ► My time is limited. This isn't to say that I won't have time, but I have a very active life. Please be patient if I don't respond right away. ► I will play mature content and themes (violence, gore, sexuality, drug or alcohol usage, temporary imprisonment, temporary injury, etcetera). ►Please ask about long term injury or disfigurement, captivity or imprisonment and character death. (These themes should have plot associated with them, as I love my character dearly!)

If you’re interested in plotting with me, I can be contacted at Scowlet#7417.

[vivypotter]

Vivy’s Harry Potter Fic Recs

I’ve had a load of people ask me for my favourite tomarry fics, so I thought I’d compile a fic rec! This will probably be updated as I think of things. However, I have a lot of favourite fics which aren’t Tomarry, so I thought I’d add a few other pairings as well. I think I’ll put up a few recs of other fandoms as well when I get ‘round to it, like Hannibal or the Hobbit (I have weird reading habits okay?) It’ll help me find them too xD.

Tom Riddle or Voldemort/Harry Potter

Consuming Shadows by Child_OTKW (WIP)

On the night of the attack, Lily managed to escape with her infant son, but at the cost of her husband’s life. Distraught and distrusting of her friends, she fled to France with Harry, to raise him away from the corruption in Britain and the rising influence of the Dark Lord. She trains him to the best of her abilities, shaping him into a dangerous, intelligent and powerful wizard.

But when Britain re-establishes the Triwizard Tournament, and Harry is forced to return to his once-home, he finds himself questioning whether he really wants to kill the Dark Lord. Voldemort finds an unexpected challenge in the child, and as his intrigue and amusement grows, so too does the desire to possess the spark in those defiant green eyes.

I feel this is genuinely one of the best Tomarry fanfics maybe ever written, and I’m sure you’ve probably read it since it’s so popular - but I thought I’d recommend it anyway! It’s not finished, but there’s enough of it to really sink your teeth into and action is properly going down right now. Harry is such an interesting character and his cat and mouse dynamic with Voldemort is so entertaining. I anxiously wait for every update!

Set the Sails (and don’t look back) by Terrific Lunacy (Complete)

1724. All Harry wanted to do was to cross the Atlantic and start his apprenticeship under one of the most renowned physicians. Tom Riddle is convinced everything floating in the seven seas belongs to him. That includes ship-wrecked, green-eyed youths. Especially if they tell him to fuck off.

This is a fic that’s really stuck with me. It’s complete (a miracle in the tomarry fandom) and there’s a fun back-and-forth between Voldemort and Harry. Our goodhearted Harry is a doctor! And for some reason, I’ve been really into Pirate AUs recently.

A Thousand Paths Among The Stars by haplesshippo (Complete)

Harry Potter, newly appointed Captain of the Marauder and son of the famous Captain James Potter, was falling apart at the seams. His crew didn’t respect him, he was lost in the empty expanse of space, nightmares plagued his sleep, and his Commander deserved the Captain position more than he did. Good thing multiple attempts on his life and a vicious warlord after his head was all it took to turn it all around.

Alternatively, that space fic in which Harry Potter almost dies too many times, Tom Riddle slowly becomes the most smitten fool on the ship, and the rest of the crew are all just a bunch of assholes with popcorn watching the show. And exploding ships, don't forget the exploding ships.

Another pirate AU, kind of! But this one is in space! And it’s actually more of a Star Trek AU. Okay, it’s not really a pirate AU but I wanted to keep the theme going. This is such a freaking good fic- the relationship between Tom and Harry is very unusual (not as combative as the last two fics) and there are some nice twists, as well as combination of HP lore and what I assume is Star Trek (I’ve never seen it okay). And the extended cast is excellent. I fully recommend!

The Dragon's Mate by Strange_Soulmates (Complete fics but WIP series)

Harry Potter has recently escaped from his dragon-guarded tower. So has his fellow prisoner - the dragon who was enchanted to guard him. Harry's friend is missing, however, and so he sets off to assure himself of his well-being before he finds the person responsible for imprisoning them both. Accompanied by a stranger with a familiar name, Harry finds himself with more questions than answers as he slowly learns about the customs of dragons and the history of the dragon he befriended, the fearsome Voldemort.

I really love pretty much all of Strange_Soulmates’ fics, but this is definitely my favourite (and maybe the only complete one? Don’t quote me on that.) The characters are so well done, and although I love the first fic a little more than the second, they are both excellent reads! Dragons and wizards? Yes, please!

Everything's Fine in the Beast Division by Merrinpippy (Complete)

Harry's lifelong ambition is to become an auror, but as his knowledge of Dangerous Beasts is somewhat lacking, Newt Scamander agrees to take him on as an apprentice. Contrary to the Weasley twins' predictions that Harry would die of boredom, Harry finds his time at the Ministry very interesting, and befriending the very attractive Tom Riddle doesn't hurt at all- in fact, quite the opposite.

This is such a fantastic fanfiction, and a crossover with Fantastic Beasts (a franchise I can’t stand but that’s a conversation for another time). It manages to be fluffy without going OOC which is difficult for tomarry fics, and the supporting cast are adorable!

To Be Set Free by Merrinpippy

Harry Potter, raised and abused by the Dursleys ever since his parents died, lives in the cupboard under the stairs. He has no friends or family who love him and his life is dull until one day a letter arrives arrives for him, written in green ink, that promises freedom. Sounds familiar, right?

King Thomas Riddle's illness combined with his political paranoia pushes him to arrange three royal balls, after which his son, Prince Tom Riddle, must choose a guest to marry, thereby securing the kingdom's future and solidifying their strength in the eyes of their allies/enemies. Tom is convinced that he will be able to defy his father and choose no-one, or at least he is until at the first ball he meets an attractive stranger with dark hair and glasses who won't tell anyone his name...

This is also excellent, and I love a good Fairytale AU. Merrinpippy has some really good stuff. I love all of it!

As Clichéd as Clichés Go by thecrimsonmonarch (One-shot)

Harry Potter wasn't known for his social skills, mainly because they were practically non-existent.

This is a bit random but very fun. Harry is a fucking dork. That’s all there is to say. A thoroughly amusing Lawyer AU.

Lily and the Art of Being Sisyphus by The Carnivorous Muffin (WIP)

As the unwitting personification of Death, reality exists to Lily through the veil of a backstage curtain, a transient stage show performed by actors who take their roles only too seriously. But as the Girl-Who-Lived, Lily's role to play is the most important of all, and come hell or high water play it she will, regardless of how awful Wizard Lenin seems to think she is at her job.

This is a still-uploading fanfic and one of my faves. It’s not for everyone- it’s a fem!Harry and she’s so different that she’s really an OC to be honest, and the story is slightly complicated. This is certainly not a fic to go for if you want IC characters. But I really love the writing and the ideas and it’s basically a new, fascinating universe. And even if they’re not IC, I love the characters all dearly. The Carnivorous Muffin is certainly an extremely talented writer- all of her stuff is excellent.

Little Bits by lordmarvoloriddle

Inspired by Cinderella. Only there's no prince and surely no one is singing about their feelings and Harry's life could be a lot worse than having three step-brothers and a father who didn't liked him. He's going to be proven right.

This is such a bloody creepy fic and so so good. The ending is a complete twist and you should definitely read it!

Drarry

Draw a Line from Your Heart to Mine by CreateImagineWrite (Complete)

Being Harry Potter's best friend isn't always fame and beating off raving fans. It's also the anxiety of hearing your best mate's been cursed by another Dark Lord, or love potioned by some crazy woman. Or having his boyfriend you knew nothing about turn up on the Burrow's doorstep.

This is a bit of a random inclusion, but I was just reading this and it is SO GOOD. Perhaps a bit cliched in places, but Ron Weasley’s inner monologue makes up for it.

Turn by Saras_Girl

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

This is an also an excellent fic that I read bloody ages ago and has apparently stuck with me. There’s this whole Harry going into an alternate dimension where he’s married to Draco Malfoy plot, but the really beautiful thing is Harry exploring his dissatisfaction with his life- through carpentry! I know it sounds like a crack fic, but it’s not- it’s a gorgeously written fic.

Away Childish Things by lettered

Harry gets de-aged. Malfoy has to help him.

This does the ‘Harry was abused’ revelation so well and really interestingly explores both Harry and Draco’s childhood. The overarching plot is also excellently done, which can’t always be said for character-focused fics!

Jily

#Jily by Chie (Chierafied) (One-shot)

Twitter seemed awash with the hashtag Jily. Lily blinked at in confusion, until she realised it was one of those silly couple monikers people had bestowed on her and Potter. …Though there was a small dissenting crowd following a tweet from Potter’s bandmate Sirius Black: Jily? Hah! More like LAMES.

This is such a fucking cute one-shot. I love social media AUs (if you find any, send them my way), so I loved this!

The Rise and Fall of the Extraordinary Jilysanschilly: Including Excerpts of their Best Collected Works by elanev91 (One-shot)

James Potter and Lily Evans are both wildly successful YouTubers and Sirius cannot believe that people ship them enough to write erotic fanfiction about them. 

You might be picking up on my love of modern Jily AUs. This is so cute, Sirius is weirdly IC as he gets caught up in a smut addiction and James and Lily don’t hate each other from the beginning so that’s fun. A very sweet YouTuber AU.

Hit the Like Button by elixirsoflife (One-shot)

YouTube star James Potter is living it up at uni: filming videos, getting drunk and professing his love for aspiring singer Lily Evans to anyone who'll listen.

It’s another modern AU, but this time, Lily is a famous singer! This was fucking adorable, enough said.

The White Album by cgner (Complete)

James poses as an advice charm in Lily's diary. He's really got to start thinking through his shenanigans.

This is the strangest mix of angst and fluff that I’ve ever read, but it really, really works. It’s also kind of a crossover, as it’s written by the co-author of:

Haggis from Algernon by Rude Gus (Complete)

The fic about nothing.

Everything written by both Rude Gus and cgner is brilliant (not a surprise as they’re almost the same person), but Haggis really is a classic. And check out their Bachelor AU fic! It’s surprisingly brilliant.

Gen and Misc

Kid by Anonymous (Completed)

A Potion's "accident" turns Harry into an eight year old. Draco Malfoy begins planning his kidnapping/conversion to the Dark Side. But Harry's a passive-aggressive, revenge-obsessed little bastard. Maybe Draco will wait on that whole Dark Lord thing… 

Such a cute fic! A really nice character study of Draco and cute kid Harry is always a bonus. I’m not usually a Draco Malfoy fan, but this is a great fic.

Harveste by kyaru-chan (Complete fics but WIP series - probs abandoned)

He's done it. He's just five years old, but he's finally done it. The Dursleys are gone. And now he's with a new family who seems just as twisted as he is. How strange.

This is a really weird fic series. It’s actually an Addams family AU? Harry kills the Dursleys and gets adopted by the Addams family, and then there’s a separate fic for each HP book up to Half-Blood Prince, where I think they stopped. It definitely still worth a read though. Harry is certainly not IC but it’s a fascinating combination of the two universes with all the quirky Addams family humour. It’s certainly a bit of a crack fic to read when you’re down.

Sarcasm and Slytherin by sunmoonandstars (Complete stories but WIP series)

After ten years of misery with the Dursleys, Harry Potter learns that he has magic. Except, in this story, it's not a surprise-the only surprise is that there are others like him. Including his twin brother, Julian Potter, the savior of the Wizarding world.

This isn't the Harry you think you know.

This is WBWL kind of story (although we don’t know if Harry actually is the BWL yet. Harry is a really interesting character and his relationship with his family- especially Jules - is very well developed and nuanced. Harry’s friendships and the authors interpretation of Slytherin house is also a new twist on old tropes- it feels very fresh! I’m eagerly waiting for updates!

So there it is. Just some of my HP faves. I’m considering doing one for Hannibal, Yuri on Ice, The Hobbit, Labyrinth (my tastes are so weird) etc, so let me know if you’re interested!

[pilawforhire-archived]

OOC: DASH GAMES Tagged by: (Thank you very much for the tags!) @miseriicxrs @pirateshou @evils-champion Tagging: (For any of the 3 below, whichever you may like) @evils-champion @miseriicxrs @pirateshou @mxladymorgan @nezumi-vc-103221 @ivakir @lachalaine (and anyone else who wants to; didn’t want to tag too many, but feel free to mention that I tagged you! :))

I. WRITER AESTHETICS.

JOHN KEATS:

the lavender in sunsets . flowers in the rain . sunlight slipping through clouds . lazy summer afternoons . the heavy scent of musk . flickering candlelight reflecting off the gold titles of books . fireflies on a cool summer night . being wrapped in fresh bed-sheets. the ache of wanting what you can never have . dripping sunlight like gold . loving someone so exquisite . soft lips and soft whispers . fingers through hair . names of lovers carved in trees. broken glass . the insistence of being perpetually dreamy

F. SCOTT FITZGERALD.

mahogany wood . crisp winter skies with cold bright stars . the solitude of an early autumn morning wrapped in fog . empty bottles on stacks and stacks of books haphazardly placed in a messy room . pale bruised arms reaching out into the darkness . cigarette smoke just barely hiding the scent of blood, dirt alcohol . a wall of books all poetry and old and weathered . a bad thunderstorm occurring at the end of a beautiful day . the way tragedy strikes in your heart but ends up stopping your breathing for a moment . your favorite sweater . parties spilling into four a.m. with the stars above spinning and dancing . the contrast of blood against snow . a purple split lip oozing blood. black eyes fading to blue to pale skin . the butterflies of falling in love for the first time . the statues falling apart over time in cemeteries . the romanticization of self-destruction

FRANZ KAFKA.

the weight of dread that sits heavily in your stomach when thinking about the future . decrepit houses cloaked in mystery from children telling stories of people who died there . the way not even light can escape a black hole . the rich smell of old books . delicate veins in the wrist . ghosts filling lungs . shattered bones . raindrops on the tongue .  rusting metal . nostalgia that aches . the way hope feels like a plastic bag over your head

H.P. LOVECRAFT.

the anxiety felt when staring into an unknown cave . pouring rain and mud . a child’s fear of the dark . thinking so many questions about your existence as you stare at the vast expanse of never ending ocean . the silence of three a.m. . danse macabre by camille saint-saens playing on a record in an empty house . the possibility of aliens and the weird feeling it gives you that you can’t explain . explainable phenomena, strange lights in the sky in the dead of night . ouija boards and urban legends

JACK KEROUAC.

the brisk pine air of being on a mountain . travels without a destination . those nights where you’re missing three hours of memory . screaming to a lifeless desert about how you’re so alive . coffee shops late at night . car rides at night spent speeding and laughing in the dark . naps spent in the sun . novels highlighted and underlined with notes and epiphanies in the margins . the way uncertainty sits on the shoulders . ignoring flaws and loving life . wind through hair, depression as fog in the brain . impossible ideals . a quiet sunrise . walks alone . when you think about trying to discover all the secrets to the universe . dazzling people . open lands stretching out into infinity . falling in love with being alive

EDGAR ALLAN POE.

the ocean’s horizon inseparable from fog . hollow bones . a preserved heart held in hands . twinkling stars above an old graveyard . the way everything turns to dust . silent black birds with eyes full of wisdom . self-inflicted flames .  perfection depicted as a rotting corpse . death as bricks in the heart . lips barely brushing against each other . glassy glazed eyes . biting into a lemon . heart-shaped bruises . rotting flowers on a grave . dried blood and spilled liquor . the hush of dusk when it begins raining . the intimacy of a secret

II. FAIRY TALE AESTHETICS: BROTHERS GRIMM VERSION

Rules: Bold what applies to your muse and repost. do not reblog.

SNOW WHITE. jade trinket boxes. taste of iron. fingertips on a mirror. yellow and green with envy. long handled hunting knives. sewing by the window. combs laced with pearls and poison. an apple white one side and red the other. white doves. frosted glass.

THE MAIDEN WITHOUT HANDS. a blunt axe. a ring of chalk. tear-stained cheeks. sweet pears. hands tied behind back. shallow rivers. aching feet, walking for days. flowing gown. liquid silver. wax seals. blinding lights.

THE THREE LITTLE GNOMES IN THE FOREST. lukewarm bath water. sapphire butterflies. tiny milk snakes. baskets of strawberries. fat toads. sparkling snow. fur cloaks. raw gemstones. kettles made of copper. red wine. a tiny cottage in the middle of nowhere.

BLUE BEARD. a tiny key made of gold. pools of blood. stains that won’t rub away. galloping hooves. treasures from far away lands. dragging by the hair. dark and damp cellars. marble walls. shivering with fear. screaming at the top of your lungs.

THE SIX SWANS. sitting side-saddle. daughter of a witch. nettles. white feathers. refusing to smile. needles and threads. a castle in the forest. sound of beating wings. birthmarks. climbing trees. balls of yarn. silver crowns.

LITTLE RED CAP. wildflowers. rich-tasting cake. wicker baskets. the path rarely trod. sharp teeth. curtains drawn. a dying fireplace. grey pelts. red velvet. handmade quilts. sunlight peeking through branches. opening corks with a satisfying pop. looking someone directly in the eye.

III. Rules: tag 9 people you want to know better or just because you feel like it.

Relationship status: Single

Favorite color: Green

Last song listened to: Joy Division - Decades

Last movie watched: Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels

Top 3 TV shows: I don’t currently have a top 3 TV shows, because most of what I used to watch and enjoy was quite a while ago. Listing the last 3 shows I watched instead: Mindhunter, Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency, Toast of London

Top 3 Characters: Don’t exactly have a top 3 either right now, but perhaps: Sherlock, Gintoki (Gintama), and… Garfield

What I’m currently reading: A Dirty Job by Christopher Moore

[hopevalley]

5.5 My Heart Is Yours (Thoughts, Part IV)

This is the final post, I promise!! Here is your navigation:

PART I -- 1.) The Frank Mess & 2.)The Adventures of Bill & Uh...Bill!

PART II -- 3.) Jack & Elizabeth & 4.) The Burned Church & 5.) Thatcher-Thornton Relationships

PART III --  6.) Community & Teamwork + More Relationships & 7.) The Wedding

PART IV -- 8.) The Reception & 9.) Wrap-Up Thoughts

We left off as the wedding party exited the church. That means it’s time for:

8.) The Reception

The saloon is decorated nicely. Fresh pretty linens on the tables. More flowers. Flower petals on the floor, candles burning on each table... Hey, one time I was at a reception and the tealight got so hard it shattered the glass it was in. Fun times. You’d think after the church fire they’d be cheap with the candles, but no. Of course not. Nobody on this show ever learns anything. Because crises don’t actually affect anyone.

Anyway, overall, it looks nice.

Elizabeth puts credit where it’s due: the dress, which all the women, including Florence, worked hard on. I like that their hard work gets an acknowledgment after-the-fact. 

It’s Congrats Hour! But just to Jack. Hey, wait until you get 304102 people asking you every other day how married life is treating you. Haw, haw. Gets old real fast, bucko.

I thought this was a cute little bit. 

I’m glad they didn’t leave them hanging entirely at the end of their last scene. This was pretty nice. I wish Tom looked a little more thrilled in this screenshot, but I feel pretty confident that he’s happy to be invited.

This is obviously a bit different in terms of, you know, most of the chairs being pushed back already... And the food gone. Most of the weddings I’ve been to, toasts go early, before the food. Then after food, push all the chairs back and dance.

Which reminds me of the lack of cake.

None of it distracts me from the candles on the stairs. You’d think these dopes would have learned their lesson after the church incident, but no.

Very nice. He did keep it short! And it was heartfelt and sweet. A nice toast. No sentimental “I remember when Jack was in training and he was a dork” montage that lasted for five full minutes. Bill isn’t very long-winded, generally speaking, so I wasn’t too worried, but...with this series you can’t ever feel safe.

Now for Abigail’s toast.

Florence: God, take me Home this instant. Clara and Jesse: Yeah a love thAT doESn’T coMe aLonG eVery dAY!!! :3

This was the only sweet part of what she said, tbh. Everything else was too Jack/Elizabeth-centric and it came across as kind of creepy and weird to me. I mean, by all means...make a toast and talk about the sparks flying or whatever, but don’t make it sound like their love story is something special when people fall in love every day.

Sorry, Lori. I know you wrote these yourself, but they were pretty mediocre. Painfully so. I kind of cringed through them. I expected something better than Bill’s toast, but he did a much better job.

Then we get the Father/Daughter dance!!

ADORABLE. SIGN ME UP. I loved this tiny little bit. It was the perfect amount of reliving a memory and sweetness.

They dance all of five steps and this JACKass cuts in (haha...get it?).

No??? YOU MAY NOT??? That’s so rude. You don’t cut in on the father/daughter dance!!!! Mr. Thatcher would be so offended. Elizabeth would be horrified and embarrassed. If this was to show us that Jack doesn’t know anything about anything, it would work, but it’s obviously an attempt to save time by avoiding showing us a longer father/daughter dance. A shame, because the father/daughter mother/son dances are probably my favorite at weddings.

They dance for like, four seconds and then everyone else files onto the floor, which is also very rude lmao like look, I’m not one for traditional etiquette but this is a wedding. Guests dance after the bride and groom get that first dance in, not 7 seconds after they start dancing.

(The kid to the left. His hand peeking out of his jacket. LOL.)

Mr. Thatcher is dancing with Dottie, Lee and Rosemary are dancing, Bill and Florence are dancing. You’d think it’d feel nice but it feels...lacking. 

I blame the fact that there isn’t a toast from Rosemary or Lee. I blame Abigail’s painfully mediocre toast that felt like the rest of this hyperfocused plot. I blame the slightly too gaudy decorations (might have been nice to use those to do up the church instead, and leave the saloon “lacking” in decorations imo) and table settings.

I mean, it was a very rushed scene!

And I think what upsets me the most about it being rushed is that...it didn’t have to be. It shouldn’t have felt that way.

And let’s be real, who didn’t want a little scene of Jack and Elizabeth walking back to Elizabeth’s house with her dress slung over her arm and his suit jacket around her shoulders? I know I did. It could have been so cute, it could have ended on a little kiss where he’s about to carry her over the threshold. A nice soft way to end this that didn’t feel like the writers had to rush through the reception.

But hey, again...I’m not writing this show, so what I think doesn’t matter! ;) Stay tuned for when I actually attempt to rewrite this series, though.

9.) Wrap-Up Thoughts

If you followed along this far, you really deserve something special! Sadly all you’ll get is a thank-you from me. This is the part where I casually air out my grievances about everything I’ve already complained about, but it’s condensed and easy to follow.

Things I liked a lot:

The wedding morning scene with Elizabeth and her father.

Bill going out of his way to make sure Jack got to walk down that aisle. He said last episode that Elizabeth was family so in a way he did this for her, too. I thought it was super sweet.

Jack’s face when Elizabeth tells him what Bill did for him. He just looks so sweetly touched! I love it.

Things I liked:

Frank showing up. FINALLY.

Tom and Jack interacting.

Jack and Lee interacting.

Jack worrying about Bill.

The kids trying to do things right.

Tom and Julie getting some interaction.

Things I hated:

All the scenes that were wastes of time.

The writers giving Bill and Frank extremely OOC lines just to make everything focus on Jack and Elizabeth’s wedding.

Lack of Julie and Elizabeth interaction.

Look, as far as the things I hate go, they have one thing in common, and that’s the fact that they were utterly unnecessary and only served to force everything in this episode to orbit Jack and Elizabeth’s wedding in a way that just feels uncomfortable the more you dare to think about it. 

The whole fitting scene where Jack “almost sees her dress”? Pointless, because its only purpose was to get the dress to the church. The rehearsal scenes? Existed only to set up the children alone at the school rehearsing so that they wouldn’t be supervised and would start a fire. The rescuing-Opal scene? Pointless except to make Jack look like a big hero or something I guess? Ooh, Jack could have died! Sorry, but if Bill hadn’t gone in his stead to escort that prisoner, Jack could have died. That little point was already covered. They should have taken it seriously. The infirmary scene? Its only purpose was to make sure they acknowledged that the kids Did a Bad Thing and have it appropriately forgiven.

We already had a “catastrophe prevents the perfect wedding” event for Lee and Rosemary and it was more interesting and plausible than what we got here. It also felt like a huge deal because 1) Rosemary is so pushy and wants to get her way about literally everything, so 2) the lack of decorations for her wedding and her going through with it anyway meant something for her character development. 

Believe it or not, Hallmark, you don’t have to throw forty anchors overboard to keep this ship from actually sailing. 

It doesn’t help that the church is so messed up afterward that in reality it could never be fixed appropriately on time. I would have loved a cute scene where maybe a window was damaged, the curtains burned on it, the wall was a bit scorched, the floor marked up. The kids could feel they’d ruined everything but half a day could fix it up well. 

BUT NAH. They burned out the front of the church almost entirely and acted like it was possible to fix it in a day and a night, and have it inhabitable by a crowd immediately afterward.

Absolutely not? Paint takes a long time to dry, especially when it’s chilly. The windows would need to be custom made and framed, the frames painted beforehand and dried. These guys painted everything perfectly without even taping anything off. Without seemingly breaking a sweat. They got new pews and replaced the floor and fixed the walls in that short amount of time? 

That church would smell like smoke and wet paint for the wedding. Awful.

I hate it. It’s what I like to call “forced wholesomeness.” Like I’m all for the town coming together to help someone, but it needs to feel like that person actually needs the help and support. For example, when several people from town made a point of helping Edith. Or when several women came to help Carla give birth. Or hey, when Rosemary stepped in with Lee to help Mr. and Mrs. Lawson have a nice wedding anniversary. I mean, that’s the kind of wholesome content that feels genuine and real, and these examples are all of a handful of people pitching in. When the entire town pitches in, it should be for a Big Cause--like, you know, someone in the town they care about can’t afford surgery or something.

This particular episode’s theme of “community togetherness” went too far. It was too much. It didn’t feel genuine. It felt forced. It makes Jack and Elizabeth feel like the town darlings instead of, you know, two people who happen to make their lives in the town. 

EVERYTHING feels like it has to revolve around them and it shouldn’t feel that way. 

I should see Jack and Elizabeth as people who reside in a town made up of many other people, some of whom really love them and many of whom don’t care a whole lot about their romantic inclinations. Sign me up for a few characters going way out of their way for Elizabeth and Jack, but not the whole town. People have jobs to do and lives of their own. Who were half the people who were at the wedding? Why wasn’t Jesse there? I mean, it’s so ridiculous it’s hard to swallow. 

I talked earlier about other plausible avenues this could have taken, and I honestly feel that if they were going to waste half the scenes in the episode trying to ruin the "perfect” wedding, it should have been allowed to be ruined. Bill should have showed up halfway through the wedding or not at all. The church should have been declared unusable. Elizabeth getting married in a quick-attempt wedding gown (maybe a much plainer white dress) and her mother’s hairpiece. 

And if they didn’t have the guts to follow through on “ruining” their star characters’ wedding, then they should have done a genuinely heartfelt episode with more relationship scenes between the cast (Frank/Abigail, Jesse/Clara, Julie+Elizabeth, Rosemary/Lee) and given more time to Bill’s storyline--for example, made it scarier, gave Jack a reason to think something bad had happened and made it more about Bill’s life than the rings; imagine knowing your mentor & one of your best men might be dead because he was doing you a favor! What an awful backdrop for a wedding!

There’s something to be said for commitment as a writer. Your job is to commit to the story you’re telling. It’s natural to “fake out” the readers a few times as the story progresses, because life is full of twists and turns and sometimes things don’t end up as bad as we fear they will. That’s believable. Sometimes an action you take IRL feels like it’ll come back to haunt you, but then...it just doesn’t. There’s nothing wrong with occasionally throwing something like that into a story, especially with characters who fit the tone well via being prone to anxiety or worry.

WCTH did this reasonably well with Bill finding AJ. Her constant negativity about how Bad Things were going to happen was justified, but it’s not as if she ended up dying. And heck, the follow-through is that she’s still on the run and will, soon, have to face trial. So things turned out okay, but the consequences were still things the character(s) had to face.

Again, you can kind of “fake out” readers now and then by throwing in something that sounds like it’ll be a problem, and then letting the problem be...less of an issue than expected.

The writer’s pratfall of fake-outs comes when everything you write, every conflict, every trial, ends up being a fake-out.

And that’s where When Calls the Heart is right now. They’ve been faking us out over and over and over from almost the beginning of this series, and at this point? I’m tired of it. It’s dull, it feels trite. I can’t take the bait anymore, because I know it’s bait. 

They released spoilers warning us of the fire. They showed Bill dressed for and at the wedding, which is obviously happening in the church. What was the point of taking the time to fake us out and spoil us that the fake-outs were fake-outs? 

To say I’m annoyed is...an understatement.

Look, I have no issues with them telling us Bill will be in “serious jeopardy” or whatever in E8 and then showing him wandering around right as rain in spoiler images for E9. Whatever. That’s their prerogative! But also, it’s not an event the fandom has been long anticipating. 

Besides, I can’t imagine they’d actually kill him off or anything. Of course he’s going to be okay! It’s just fun to watch his shenanigans, especially when AJ is also involved.

But for this wedding stuff, they went way out of their way to release spoiler videos of dramatic things...while also showing us that the wedding would be perfect in literally every sense of the word.

I know the problem. I know it! 

It’s the lack of commitment. It’s like they kinda wanted to ruin the wedding but were afraid fans would react negatively to it.

COMMIT YOU COWARDS. 

Don’t get me wrong. I’m fairly happy with this episode. There were a lot of nice things mixed in with the annoying bad things. I’m just really tired of every conflict that occurs feeling pointless; it’s like none of the characters seem to ever fully face the consequences of their own actions or the actions of others. It’s tiring. Henry Gowen gets out on parole due to a simpering over-the-top completely inappropriate plea by Abigail which really just makes Bill look like a liar (as if a mean judge would let her finish that sentence without punting her off the stand lol). Oh No the Rings but then Bill’s on time anyway. Oh No the Church but then the church is magically fixed anyway. Oh No the Decorations but somehow the church is 500% more decorated than it was for Rosemary’s wedding and they had plenty to do up the saloon. 

The only thing this show has consistently committed to? 

Is kicking off new characters the second they’ve served whatever dramatic role they wanted them for. And hey, Frank was like the sole exception to that but we’ll be losing him next week, so...what does that say?

And you know, I’d say “Good on Hallmark” if he and Abigail “breaking up” is a fake-out (and they actually end up getting engaged or something), but I know it’s not. I know it’s just them finally getting rid of a character they clearly haven’t known what to do with for an entire season, now. So I’m extra irritated about it.

Anyway, despite my salty long post, this episode was...pretty good. If nothing else it did have a few heartfelt moments in it, and there is no doubt in my mind that those were its saving grace.

[grapesandgold-archived]

OOC: DASH GAMES Tagged by: @evils-champion @nobedsidemanners Tagging: @theoceanslibrarian @silverblxd @featheatre (if you guys want)

I. WRITER AESTHETICS.

JOHN KEATS:

the lavender in sunsets . flowers in the rain . sunlight slipping through clouds . lazy summer afternoons . the heavy scent of musk . flickering candlelight reflecting off the gold titles of books . fireflies on a cool summer night . being wrapped in fresh bed-sheets.the ache of wanting what you can never have . dripping sunlight like gold . loving someone so exquisite . soft lips and soft whispers . fingers through hair . names of lovers carved in trees. broken glass . the insistence of being perpetually dreamy

F. SCOTT FITZGERALD.

mahogany wood . crisp winter skies with cold bright stars . the solitude of an early autumn morning wrapped in fog . empty bottles on stacks and stacks of books haphazardly placed in a messy room . pale bruised arms reaching out into the darkness . cigarette smoke just barely hiding the scent of blood, dirt alcohol . a wall of books all poetry and old and weathered . a bad thunderstorm occurring at the end of a beautiful day . the way tragedy strikes in your heart but ends up stopping your breathing for a moment . your favorite sweater . parties spilling into four a.m. with the stars above spinning and dancing . the contrast of blood against snow . a purple split lip oozing blood. black eyes fading to blue to pale skin . the butterflies of falling in love for the first time . the statues falling apart over time in cemeteries . the romanticization of self-destruction

FRANZ KAFKA.

the weight of dread that sits heavily in your stomach when thinking about the future . decrepit houses cloaked in mystery from children telling stories of people who died there . the way not even light can escape a black hole . the rich smell of old books . delicate veins in the wrist . ghosts filling lungs . shattered bones . raindrops on the tongue . rusting metal .nostalgia that aches . the way hope feels like a plastic bag over your head

H.P. LOVECRAFT.

the anxiety felt when staring into an unknown cave . pouring rain and mud . a child’s fear of the dark . thinking so many questions about your existence as you stare at the vast expanse of never ending ocean . the silence of three a.m. . danse macabre by camille saint-saens playing on a record in an empty house . the possibility of aliens and the weird feeling it gives you that you can’t explain . explainable phenomena, strange lights in the sky in the dead of night . ouija boards and urban legends

JACK KEROUAC.

the brisk pine air of being on a mountain . travels without a destination . those nights where you’re missing three hours of memory . screaming to a lifeless desert about how you’re so alive . coffee shops late at night . car rides at night spent speeding and laughing in the dark . naps spent in the sun . novels highlighted and underlined with notes and epiphanies in the margins . the way uncertainty sits on the shoulders . ignoring flaws and loving life . wind through hair, depression as fog in the brain . impossible ideals . a quiet sunrise . walks alone . when you think about trying to discover all the secrets to the universe. dazzling people . open lands stretching out into infinity . falling in love with being alive

EDGAR ALLAN POE.

the ocean’s horizon inseparable from fog . hollow bones . a preserved heart held in hands . twinkling stars above an old graveyard . the way everything turns to dust . silent black birds with eyes full of wisdom . self-inflicted flames . perfection depicted as a rotting corpse . death as bricks in the heart . lips barely brushing against each other . glassy glazed eyes . biting into a lemon . heart-shaped bruises . rotting flowers on a grave. dried blood and spilled liquor . the hush of dusk when it begins raining . the intimacy of a secret

II. FAIRY TALE AESTHETICS: BROTHERS GRIMM VERSION

Rules: Bold what applies to your muse and repost. do not reblog.

SNOW WHITE. jade trinket boxes. taste of iron. fingertips on a mirror. yellow and green with envy. long handled hunting knives. sewing by the window. combs laced with pearls and poison. an apple white one side and red the other. white doves. frosted glass.

THE MAIDEN WITHOUT HANDS. a blunt axe. a ring of chalk. tear-stained cheeks. sweet pears. hands tied behind back. shallow rivers. aching feet, walking for days. flowing gown. liquid silver. wax seals. blinding lights.

THE THREE LITTLE GNOMES IN THE FOREST. lukewarm bath water. sapphire butterflies. tiny milk snakes. baskets of strawberries. fat toads. sparkling snow. fur cloaks. raw gemstones. kettles made of copper. red wine. a tiny cottage in the middle of nowhere.

BLUE BEARD. a tiny key made of gold. pools of blood. stains that won’t rub away. galloping hooves.treasures from far away lands. dragging by the hair. dark and damp cellars. marble walls. shivering with fear. screaming at the top of your lungs.

THE SIX SWANS. sitting side-saddle. daughter of a witch. nettles. white feathers. refusing to smile. needles and threads. a castle in the forest. sound of beating wings. birthmarks. climbing trees. balls of yarn. silver crowns.

LITTLE RED CAP. wildflowers. rich-tasting cake. wicker baskets. the path rarely trod. sharp teeth. curtains drawn. a dying fireplace. grey pelts. red velvet. handmade quilts. sunlight peeking through branches. opening corks with a satisfying pop. looking someone directly in the eye.

[silversin]

TAG DUMP.

[theoceanslibrarian]

OOC: DASH GAMES Tagged by: @grapesandgold Tagging: Anyone who wants to.

I. WRITER AESTHETICS.

JOHN KEATS:

the lavender in sunsets . flowers in the rain . sunlight slipping through clouds . lazy summer afternoons . the heavy scent of musk .flickering candlelight reflecting off the gold titles of books . fireflies on a cool summer night . being wrapped in fresh bed-sheets. the ache of wanting what you can never have . dripping sunlight like gold . loving someone so exquisite . soft lips and soft whispers . fingers through hair . names of lovers carved in trees. broken glass . the insistence of being perpetually dreamy

F. SCOTT FITZGERALD.

mahogany wood . crisp winter skies with cold bright stars . the solitude of an early autumn morning wrapped in fog . empty bottles on stacks and stacks of books haphazardly placed in a messy room . pale bruised arms reaching out into the darkness . cigarette smoke just barely hiding the scent of blood, dirt alcohol . a wall of books all poetry and old and weathered . a bad thunderstorm occurring at the end of a beautiful day . the way tragedy strikes in your heart but ends up stopping your breathing for a moment . your favorite sweater . parties spilling into four a.m. with the stars above spinning and dancing . the contrast of blood against snow . a purple split lip oozing blood. black eyes fading to blue to pale skin . the butterflies of falling in love for the first time . the statues falling apart over time in cemeteries . the romanticization of self-destruction

FRANZ KAFKA.

the weight of dread that sits heavily in your stomach when thinking about the future . decrepit houses cloaked in mystery from children telling stories of people who died there . the way not even light can escape a black hole . the rich smell of old books . delicate veins in the wrist .ghosts filling lungs . shattered bones . raindrops on the tongue . rusting metal .nostalgia that aches . the way hope feels like a plastic bag over your head

H.P. LOVECRAFT.

the anxiety felt when staring into an unknown cave . pouring rain and mud . a child’s fear of the dark . thinking so many questions about your existence as you stare at the vast expanse of never ending ocean . the silence of three a.m. . danse macabre by camille saint-saens playing on a record in an empty house . the possibility of aliens and the weird feeling it gives you that you can’t explain . explainable phenomena, strange lights in the sky in the dead of night . ouija boards and urban legends

JACK KEROUAC.

the brisk pine air of being on a mountain . travels without a destination . those nights where you’re missing three hours of memory .screaming to a lifeless desert about how you’re so alive . coffee shops late at night . car rides at night spent speeding and laughing in the dark . naps spent in the sun . novels highlighted and underlined with notes and epiphanies in the margins . the way uncertainty sits on the shoulders . ignoring flaws and loving life . wind through hair, depression as fog in the brain . impossible ideals . a quiet sunrise . walks alone . when you think about trying to discover all the secrets to the universe. dazzling people . open lands stretching out into infinity .falling in love with being alive

EDGAR ALLAN POE.

the ocean’s horizon inseparable from fog . hollow bones . a preserved heart held in hands . twinkling stars above an old graveyard . the way everything turns to dust . silent black birds with eyes full of wisdom . self-inflicted flames . perfection depicted as a rotting corpse . death as bricks in the heart . lips barely brushing against each other . glassy glazed eyes . biting into a lemon . heart-shaped bruises . rotting flowers on a grave. dried blood and spilled liquor . the hush of dusk when it begins raining . the intimacy of a secret

II. FAIRY TALE AESTHETICS: BROTHERS GRIMM VERSION

Rules: Bold what applies to your muse and repost. do not reblog.

SNOW WHITE. jade trinket boxes. taste of iron. fingertips on a mirror. yellow and green with envy. long handled hunting knives. sewing by the window. combs laced with pearls and poison. an apple white one side and red the other. white doves. frosted glass.

THE MAIDEN WITHOUT HANDS. a blunt axe. a ring of chalk. tear-stained cheeks. sweet pears. hands tied behind back. shallow rivers. aching feet, walking for days. flowing gown. liquid silver. wax seals. blinding lights.

THE THREE LITTLE GNOMES IN THE FOREST. lukewarm bath water. sapphire butterflies. tiny milk snakes. baskets of strawberries. fat toads. sparkling snow. fur cloaks. raw gemstones.kettles made of copper. red wine. a tiny cottage in the middle of nowhere.

BLUE BEARD. a tiny key made of gold. pools of blood. stains that won’t rub away. galloping hooves.treasures from far away lands. dragging by the hair. dark and damp cellars. marble walls. shivering with fear. screaming at the top of your lungs.

THE SIX SWANS. sitting side-saddle. daughter of a witch. nettles. white feathers. refusing to smile. needles and threads. a castle in the forest. sound of beating wings. birthmarks. climbing trees. balls of yarn. silver crowns.

LITTLE RED CAP. wildflowers. rich-tasting cake. wicker baskets. the path rarely trod. sharp teeth. curtains drawn. a dying fireplace. grey pelts. red velvet. handmade quilts. sunlight peeking through branches. opening corks with a satisfying pop. looking someone directly in the eye.

[ereri-fanfics]

Fic List #4

Make Your Mark by wasterella

Status: Completed

Words: 5,736

Chapters: 1/1

Tags: Soulmates, Making Out, Levi is in love and hates it, Eren just wants to find his soulmate, very brief mentions of self-harm (burning - not depicted)

Having a soulmate sucks the big one, especially when you specifically don't want one.

Which Levi didn't. At all. Not even a little.

Especially not Eren Jaeger. Nope. Definitely not Eren Jaeger. That was just stupid.

Good Enough To Eat by wasterella

Status: Ongoing

Words: 262,179

Chapters: 25/26

Last Updated: 2017-05-20

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Violence, Murder, Attempted Murder, writer!levi, Disturbing Themes, Mostly related to Levi's writing, Mentions of cannibalism but not depicted (again Levi's writing), Mind Control, Supernatural - Freeform, Magic, Blood, I am probably missing tags but if you have concerns please ask...

There are two things to be known about living in Shiganshina: there’s no such thing as privacy, and gossip never dies.

Eren Jaeger has lived in the same small town his entire life, and has always known this to be true. He’d never felt different, and had always believed that nothing exciting would ever happen, and every day would continue to be exactly the same as always.

At least, he used to, until the arrival of a mysterious man. A newcomer who seems to have an interest in the Jaeger family, and keeps his secrets close. A man who never answers questions, and has a dark history that spells trouble.

As demons from the past come racing to the present, Eren finds himself drawn into an inexplicable web of myths and deceit, protected by the one person he’s positive he shouldn’t trust.

Hey Lover by wasterella

Status: Completed

Words: 228,766

Chapters: 32/32

Fed up with being teased for not having a girlfriend, Eren joins a site that gives the perception of being taken. Little does he know that the sassy and crass girlfriend he asked for isn't exactly what he had in mind.

The Difference Between You and Me by Shado_on_nanoko

Status: Ongoing

Words: 60,505

Chapters: 31/?

Last Updated: 2017-05-14

Rating: Teen And Up

Tags: Homophobia, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, I'm Bad At Tagging, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, potential smut in later chapters, Boys In Love, Eren is a titan, Titan-Haired Eren Yeager, Titan Eren Yeager, Swearing, cuz of Levi, OOC-ness, I Don't Even Know, flipped a coin, top!Eren, but also Top!Levi, they switch, slooooooooow af, you'll hate me for the deaths, Please Don't Kill Me

Eren has always been a titan, a titan that can shift into a human. With a dream to stand side by side with humans and the sudden opportunity of a short human showing up at his home, what will he do? Will he surrender to his titan instincts, or will he follow his human heart?

Through The Curtain by Lady_Bluebird

Status: Ongoing

Words: 35,667

Chapters: 8/?

Last Updated: 2017-05-11

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Grisha is actually a good dad, Dead Carla, Slow Build, Levi Is Bad At Feelings, Eren is a brat, but he's Levi's brat, Alternate Universe - Dreams, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, plot heavy, Fluff and Angst, Dominant Eren Yeager, Bottom Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), sick!Eren, Fatal familial insomnia

Nineteen year-old Eren Jaeger, recently diagnosed with fatal familial insomnia, is desperate for a cure to save him - as well as to spare his sister, Mikasa, and father, Grisha, from losing a family member. One night, wandering through the city, Eren finds three things that just might provide his remedy: A gateway, the world behind it, and a (literally) living dream named Levi.

A Million Kisses by MakoHarumakesmesin

Status: Completed

Words: 28,599

Chapters: 12/12

Tags: Death, Minor Character Death, Trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin) Has PTSD, Torture, Blood, Fear, Triggers, Panic Attacks, Mikasa is levis' niece, Mai is the name of Mikasas mother, Fluff, Smut, Masturbating, Eren comforts Levi a lot, Eventual Levi/Eren Yeager, Slow Burn, mention of sexual abuse, Amputee Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), College Student Eren Yeager, levi is a virgin, thats not really relevant, but his uncertainty is still cute, Bottom Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Top Eren Yeager

Levi had survived. He was the only one of his squad that was able to return home to the family that he barely knows. The war in Afghanistan has taken a toll on his body and mind, which explains why Levi wished he also hadn't returned. Everyone that he knew has either died or moved on from their friendship with Levi since he joined the army several years ago. He feels damaged and broken as he sits in his wheelchair in his new room. Somehow this all changes when Mikasa, his niece, brings home a bright-eyed brunet named Eren to study with. Eren helps Levi with his nightmares at night when he wakes up screaming again and the warm tea that Eren provides Levi with after another rough night is the first thing the raven falls in love with.

Timeless by Tamithna

Status: Ongoing

Words: 14,039

Chapters: 5/?

Last Updated: 2017-04-25

Rating: Teen And Up

Tags: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Fluff, Post-Canon, Rating May Change, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, ererisecretsanta2015, some spoilers if you don't read the manga, Older Eren Yeager, Alternate Universe - High School

2000 years after the Final Battle, a crystallized Eren is woken up by a reincarnated Levi.

This Is The Day by IttyBittyTeapot (LittleSeedofDarkness)

Status: Ongoing

Words: 41,565

Chapters: 7/?

Last Updated: 2017-05-18

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bartender Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), College Student Eren Yeager, Smut, Fluff, Switching, First Time, Falling In Love, Hand Jobs, Frottage, non-binary hanji, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Porn with Feelings, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs

Eren is a struggling and mildly depressed student. His friends have left for college and he has trouble getting by, but when he decides to escape his shitty apartment and go for a walk one night, he stumbles onto a nearby bar and meets the man who will change his life.

Loosing by Cleaning_Ravioli

Status: Ongoing

Words: 10,990

Chapters: 8/?

Last Updated: 2017-05-16

Rating: Teen And Up

Tags: Cheesy Summaries, Un-Creative Titles, Non-Binary Hange Zoë, Alternate Universe - Basketball

Eren is a member of the elite basketball team, The Titans, and they have yet to loose a game they've played. However, upon facing The Survey Corps, the team makes their first loss to the opposing school, and Eren looses something else entirely; his heart to the Point Guard of team he is supposed to hate.