#This is shitty but I'm trying to fight off the writers block.

[amourtoken]

not to be freaky on main but i need to call quinn daddy

u don't have to be freaky on main dw I'll do it for you but GOD i think he'd lose his fucking mind over this one!!!

he's already filling the role tbh. Casually dominant and always making sure you're taken care of, it fits. He loves all the little nicknames you've given him but the one time you let "please daddy" slip while he's fucking you into the mattress you have no idea what you're in for.

He wasn't expecting it but the sweet tone of your voice pleading with him went straight to his cock, the term making him ache inside. Your whines were met with a laugh and Quinn's weight lifting off your body as he held himself above you to get a better look at your fucked out expression.

your eyes met his but only for a second before rolling back into your skull, Quinn picked the pace back up and his thrusts were fucking bruising. You didn't have much time to adjust before he leaned back to push your knees up next to your head, folding you in half with his weight. The new position only made him fill you deeper, all higher thoughts leaving your mind since all you could process was the feeling of his cock stretching you out and the tip nailing your cervix over and over.

"Please what, huh? Want daddy's dick in your guts? I can manage that."

"good little slut taking me so well- fuck angel- you look so pretty taking daddy's cock like this yknow?"

"Gonna make you cum for me, just take it like a good girl."

[alondradina]

Trying out Febuwhump for this first time! I have been struggling with writer's block for almost a year, and this is the first time I've managed to finish anything aside from drabbles. Wish me luck getting through the rest of the prompts.

Day 1: Vocal cords

Fandom: Dragon Age/Dragon Age: The Veilguard

Pairing: Solas/Rook, Solas/f!Rook

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62697871

—

“Yes. You regret very little in your life.” His smile doesn't reach his eyes. “If only I could follow your example.”

Rook sneers and steps into his space. “Maybe don't make such shitty decisions, Solas.”

Victory has never tasted so bitter. Rook trudges through Blight ravaged paths in her search for Solas. The big fat liar. She seethes — yearning to blame him for the losses her people have suffered today — but she tamps it down. Her rage must be contained if she has any hope of winning.

Her throat burns. The orders she has desperately screamed for the past few hours have scraped her vocal cords raw. If she could drink something, maybe it would be better, but her canteen is empty and it feels like sandpaper is sliding up and down her throat. Coughing, she hands her empty canteen to a runner and prays that it will be returned to her before she has to give orders again.

She finds Solas shortly after, and watches him bat away Blight tendrils as a horse does flies: quick, forceful, and with an unnecessary amount of force. There are faster, more elegant, less wasteful ways to deal with them, but he does not care.

A tendril is slammed down right next to her, and then Solas finally appears to notice her. “Rook.”

“Solas,” she croaks, grimacing. She licks her chapped lips and meets his gaze. “Your prison couldn't even hold a mortal. How was it supposed to have contained two elvhen gods?”

“You escaped sooner than expected,” he comments. His eyes run up and down her bedraggled form. “Good. We will need to work together to defeat Elgar'nan.”

“We aren't doing shit,” she growls. “You betrayed-”

“You are free now,” he interrupts, pausing for a moment to slam another tendril away, “as planned, and now we must move on.”

“Move on?!”

Solas sighs and approaches her. “My apologies for the deception, Rook. It was necessary. I could not escape on my own, and I was needed here.”

“You were needed? We didn't need you. I was already-”

“I am pleased you overcame your regrets so quickly. I had thought it was one of your weaker emotions, and that seems to be the case.”

“Weaker?” Rook asks, holding a hand out to ward him off. “What does that mean?”

He chuckles. “The prison uses your strongest emotions to hold you. In your case, I spent weeks preparing you to take over regret in my place.”

“You said it was my weakest-?”

“Yes. You regret very little in your life.” His smile doesn't reach his eyes. “If only I could follow your example.”

Rook sneers and steps into his space. “Maybe don't make such shitty decisions, Solas.”

“I wonder what decisions you would have made, in my stead,” he counters, “had you faced what I faced.”

“Don't think-” she coughs, turning away to finish her fit before continuing, “I don't think I could do much worse, that's for sure.”

Cool fingers slide along her jaw before tilting her face to meet his gaze. “You sound unwell.”

“I'm fine,” she rasps, grabbing his wrist and attempting to pull it away.

“I have water.”

She can't keep herself from licking her lips again. “I said I'm fine.”

Finally releasing her, he holds her eyes for a moment before walking away. She glances back at her team — hoping her canteen would suddenly appear — before following him. He stops by a pack and rifles through it before pulling out a canteen.

“I already said no.”

“It does no one any good if you lose your voice this early in the fight.” He holds it out to her.

“Early in the fight,” she mutters, refusing to look at him. “The fighting never stops.”

“That seems to be the way of this world.”

She glowers at him. “Doesn't sound like your world was much better, Fen’harel.”

He sloshes the water around and she wishes she could just throttle him. Still not looking at him, she snatches the canteen.

The first sip of water she swishes to wet her mouth. She spits it out and rinses her mouth again before finally swallowing. Taking careful sips, she steadfastly ignores Solas until she finishes. Carefully closing the canteen, she hands it back.

“Better?”

“My throat doesn't feel like sandpaper anymore,” she shrugs.

He frowns. “Your voice is still-”

“I don't know how many times I have to say I'm fi-”

“At least twice more,” he teases, “until you can convince yourself, at the very least.”

“Well, I'm not thirsty anymore. The rest will go away at some point. We have a god to fight, Solas.”

“I could soothe your throat,” he offers.

“Solas, if you don't leave it be-”

He reaches towards her throat. “Let me help you, Rook. It is a small enough atonement.”

She huffs. “Will that be the end of it?”

“Yes.”

She sighs irritably, but doesn't resist when his hand loosely clasps her throat. The magic is cool and somehow feels more refreshing than the water had been.

“Done,” he says finally. She opens her eyes — when had they closed? — to see his smug face. His fingers squeeze gently before slowly releasing. “It is good that you still trust me.”

“Trust is a strong word.”

He laughs. “Perhaps it is. Come, we must discuss our strategy with the others.”

Watching him go, she holds a hand to her throat. It is all too easy to fall back into their easy comradery from before the betrayal. She can't afford to fall prey to him again.

[fiction-is-the-new-reality]

Liv my wonderful writer. I'm in desperate need of some protective Frank Castle fic. Frank and fem reader are best friends and know each other for a long time. He's always very protective and soft with her. Finally settling down they're both happy that they know live near each other and see each other as often as possible (both are harboring deep feelings for the other, but both are too dumb to admit it) unfortunately the two had a big fight and reader storms out of Frank's apartment, clearly disappointed at Frank's harsh behavior towards her (maybe she criticizes him for his one night stand or you can come up with something else) one evening reader is attacked at her apartment and hurt badly... With her mobile broken (the guy who attacked her smashed it) she's not able to call for help, so she stays at her apartment for two days until she's able to stumble to Frank's house. He finds her at his doof, hurt badly with a raging fever....

Hopefully with a fluffy ending, after Frank takes care of her and apologizing to her. I know the best friends to lovers is a trope which is rather used often. But I LOVE it so much and as a sucker for whump hurt and sick reader fics, I really need this trope.

Love ya girl =)

Thank you so much for requesting this, it’s such a cute concept. I changed it a small bit so I hope you don’t hate that. :)

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Violence and Language

Yours and Frank’s friendship consisted of almost daily check-ins, so you found it odd that he hadn’t checked in. You realized you hadn’t spoken to him in a few days, and this worried you. You called a couple of times and received no answer, which wasn’t too strange considering his line of business. Occasionally, he had weeks here and there where he would need to be unbothered or keep a low profile, so he’d turn his phone off, but he always warned you. Having waited a bit longer and still having no answer, you grabbed your coat and keys and exited your apartment. Walking to his apartment wasn’t too bad, as it was a few blocks away. You knocked on the door, but there was no answer. You gave it another try, this time you accompanied it with a shout of his name.

"Frank?"

However, there was nothing, no shuffle, no callback, and no door pulled open. There was silence. You stuck the key in the handle and unlocked the door. You slowly opened it and stepped into the apartment. There was nothing out of the ordinary at the front of the apartment. Everything was still in its place and nicely organized, just as Frank liked it. You headed towards the bedroom, finding the door slightly jarred. You pushed it, and as it creaked open, you could see that Frank wasn’t on the other side. No Frank in his apartment. Instead of returning to your apartment, you became comfortable on his couch and decided to wait.

Frank couldn’t have been happier to see his shitty one-bedroom apartment. His night was completely shit. The situation escalated, causing his arm to receive grazing from a bullet and his thigh to throb from a stab wound. Nothing that would kill him, just more of an inconvenience, and he was annoyed by the pain. Covered in blood and disgusted, he wanted to shower and collapse into bed. But upon inserting his keys in the door, he realized it was unlocked. He perked up and was ready to fight again. Slowly creeping down the hall, he strained his ears to hear anything. His gun was held tightly and ready to unload the clip. He cautiously stepped into the living room and scanned for any sign of an intruder. All was silent, but he held his breath. He knew that he was not alone. As he turned to check the kitchen, you had started your return to the living room. He pulled his gun up as you screeched.

"Oh my fucking god Frank!" You covered your face with your hands as you tried to calm your heart which was racing a like you ran a marathon. His hands trembled as he put his gun away, he had almost shot you. He was relieved that it was just you. He took a deep breath, calming his own racing heart.

“What the hell is wrong with you? I almost shot you!” He dropped the weapon on the counter.

“I was trying to check on you, I hadn’t heard from you so I was worried.” He knew that your intentions were pure, but he was stressed from the night and wore out, and still upset about almost killing you that he had become more irritated.

“You can’t just be in here like that.” His eyebrows were furrowed, you looked him over, there was a lot of blood, How much was his?

“I should help you, you look in pretty bad shape,” You wanted to change the subject, you wanted to help him. He wasn’t having any of it.

“Nah, I’ll be fine. You should go home.” He moved away so you could make it to the door.

“Frank I can’t just leave you here without helping-”

“I don’t need you here, there’s nothing you can do. Leave.” He wasn’t shouting but his voice was stern.

“Goddamn it Frank, can you please stop being so stubborn and let me help you?" You outstretched your arms to him, hoping that if you touched him, he would melt and let you in. But not tonight. Frank wasn’t having it. The last thing he wanted was to feel your warmth, both physically and emotionally. You being sweet on him would only make him feel worst for almost killing you.

He didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve love. How dare he try and not feel guilty.

He flinched backward like you were going to burn him. You stood still processing and feeling your heart begin to ache.

“Go home. You shouldn’t be here anyway, I don’t need your help.” He almost snarled at you.

“Fine, hope you don’t fucking die.” You turned on your heels and stormed back to your apartment. How dare he? All you wanted was to help and he treated you like that? Of course, he didn’t need or want it. How foolish of you to believe that he needed you. Your eyes burn from tears, and you feel idiotic . You felt stupid for being there and stupid for letting him hurt your feelings so easily. Slamming the door to your apartment you quickly made your way to the bed and laid down. You wanted to sleep to forget tonight. You prayed that when you woke up in the morning, this night would have just been an awful dream.

There was a loud noise. Loud enough to wake you up. You groaned and sat up in bed, looking towards the door, you couldn’t see anything. Getting out of bed, you slowly made your way toward the hall. There was nobody in the hallway, but the noise seemed to come from the living room. As you approached, you noticed a man standing in the living room holding a huge knife in his hand. You needed to get back to your room to call Frank. As you walked back to the room, you tried not to make any noise. As you approached your room, you grabbed the door, and as you moved it to close it, the door made a loud squeaking sound. You knew he had heard, so you knew it was only a matter of minutes before he got to you. Closing the door and locking it, you could hear him running towards your room. You quickly grabbed your phone, which had a charge of 2 percent.

Fuck

As your hands trembled, you quickly thought about what to do. The only thing you could do was to hide. Running into your bathroom closet, you attempted to call Frank, but your phone had already died. You hear the man outside, banging on the door. He would get in soon

You grabbed the metal bar you kept in the closet, you were relieved that your paranoia was paid off. The bedroom door cracked open, you gripped the bar so tight your hands were hurting.

“I know you’re in here, it’ll be easier for you if you just come out.” He moved his way to the bathroom, looking to see if you were hiding. As he made his way, you stood and quietly emerged from the closet. As he turned back, you slammed the rod against him. It collided with his ribs. He stumbled back, and you moved to hit him again, but his hand caught the bar and yanked it toward him. You wanted to fight to keep the rod, but you knew that there was no reason. He was strong, and if you kept your hands on it, you would have been too close.

You took off running to the living room. If you could just get out of the front door, you would be fine. You could run to Frank, and he would keep you safe. He would hold you in his arms and congratulate you on your bravery and kiss your forehead, as he had done before. He would be firm against your body, and that’s all you could think about. You had almost reached the door when he grabbed your arm and his other hand wrapped itself in your hair. He shoved you on the ground.

“I just want to ask you some questions about Frank and depending on how nice you are determines how well I’ll be treating you.” Crawling to the kitchen you were hoping you could get a knife, he flipped you over on your back and stood above you. “Don’t try anything or it’s gonna get worse.”

As he interrogated you, you denied knowing anything. He became angrier, and he took it out on you. He started hitting you and threatening to kill you. You felt the blood drip down your face. The warmth of the sun started to leak into the apartment, in stark contrast to the coldness of the behavior you were receiving. You were dizzy and your eyes felt like cinderblocks. He had taken a break to use the bathroom and thinking that you were too weak, he left you untied. The knife he had wielded was left on the counter, waiting for you to grab it. As he approached you, you struck. The knife slashed across his chest and into his shoulder.

You slashed again, using your fleeting strength. You made contact over and over again, but you faltered stumbling back at a loss for breath. He knocked the knife out of your hands and slammed your head to the counter.

Frank let the coffee cleanse him of his sleepless night, but it couldn’t save him from the fight replaying in his head. The look on your face when he snapped replayed. His eyes squeezed together, and he shook his head in the hope that it would disappear. He knew he had to apologize; he needed to fix what he had broken. Taking a deep breath, he reached for his phone to call you. He had to try to make things right. He pressed the call button, but it didn't ring. It was sent directly to the voicemail. He gave it another shot and got the same outcome. He almost lost his breath. He knew you would need your space but didn't realize how much that would break him.

Your body must have woken you up. You were sweating and freezing; the sunlight made the pounding in your head worse, and you listened carefully, not wanting to show you were awake. Not hearing anything, you looked around. You were alone. You began elbow-crawling to the bedroom, praying your phone was there. Getting your arm up on the bed took all of your remaining strength. You can see the phone towards the top of the bed, just out of your arm’s reach. Trying your hardest to reach, you couldn’t make it before your eyes begin shutting and your body collapsed onto the bed.

Not waiting any longer, Frank left his apartment and headed to yours. He needed to see you, even if it meant you were mad, even if you slammed the door in his face. He just wanted to see that you were still there. Making his way up to your door, he noticed that it had been cracked open. His blood ran cold.

He called you, but there was no response. He pushed slowly inside and noted the blood in the living room and kitchen. His mind raced. Making no noise as he entered the room. His eyes landed on your sweating, bloodied form. Rushing to get to you, he gently inspected you to make sure that you were still breathing.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” You were breathing, but unresponsive. He needed a rag and bandages. He helped you quickly, cleaning the sweat and blood off you. Although you grumbled, you didn’t fight against the help. To you, this whole situation was just a fever dream. You knew Frank wasn’t here, but at least your brain was kind enough to conjure an image of him. You had accepted the fact that you were fighting a fever and probably bleeding all over your bed.

Night had passed and so had your fever. Frank kept a watchful eye on you. He cleaned up your apartment and fixed your door. At noon, you opened your eyes. Blinking a few times, you registered you weren’t alone. The smell of soup from the kitchen and the sound of low music playing let you know it wasn’t anyone with malicious intentions but instead, it was Frank.

“Frank?” You tried to call out to Frank, but your voice was too hoarse to do anything, but squeak. There was tightness all through your body. Your body was unhappy to move. Frank appeared at the bedroom door, holding a glass of water. His black shirt stretched tightly against his arms, and his hair was slightly disheveled. Damn, did he still look so handsome.

“Don’t move,” He brought the cup gently to your lips and allowed you to drink as much as you needed, his eyes soft.

“What happened?” Sitting on the bed he rested a hand on your leg. You looked away from him, having trouble finding the words to say. Frank waited, he would have waited years if needed it.

While you found your words, Frank already knew what he needed to say. When he found you lying in your bed, passed out, and covered in blood, he knew he needed to tell you how he felt once you were better. He couldn’t go without you knowing he loved you anymore.

Once you turned back to him, he held your hand. You told him everything, how the guy wanted information on Frank, how you almost whooped his ass, and how all you could think of was Frank toward the end.

“I am so fucking sorry you got in the middle of my shit, sweetheart. This should have never happened to you, you didn’t deserve this. I was so–so scared that you were gone when I got here. I have never been that scared. And I’m sorry for the other night. I shouldn’t have snapped, and I didn’t mean anything I said. I need you in my life. I want you here.” He shook his head and licked his lips, you could tell that his words were heavy with emotions. You can see it in his eyes that he wants you to feel these emotions.

His truth made you cry harder. You pushed yourself forward and hugged Frank. His arms wrapped around you tight enough to make you feel safe and secure, but not enough to cause pain. Slowly pulling back, you looked back into his eyes. He was so close, you could see the small scar on the side of his head and the little stubble growing.

Frank looked down at your lips and then back into your eyes. He brought his hand up to your face, rubbing your cheek, and gently guiding your face toward him. Your eyes closed, and you waited for his lips to meet yours. Kissing him now was far better than you imagined. You hoped Frank felt butterflies like you were. You hoped his heart was racing. If only you knew just how much of an effect you were having on him. He never wanted to stop kissing you.

Finally, pulling apart, you rested your forehead on his chest and basked in his scent. Frank’s smile was so big, his eyes were bright from the love he was allowing himself to feel. It had been so long since he felt something like this. That horrible night was far from you. Frank chased it away. Now that you had Frank, you were never letting him go, and you knew that Frank would never let you go. You couldn't help the smile on your face, as you reveled in the feeling of Frank being all around you.

[hexxgirlthorn]

task #003: absence

fuck you.

i'm writing this instead of a new song for the band and i bet you fucking love that. i bet you're so happy that my pen is taking a break from scorching your ass in my music. i bet you love that i burn you and what we had over and over and over again with the songs i write. knowing you, you actually have the nerve to brag that there are songs out there written about you. you've always loved being the villain in my story. the one that stabbed lilith in the back.

when i was in rehab i was told this was a way to really get my frustration off my chest--a letter. i didn't want to write to you then. i don't really want to write to you now. but i can't seem to get out of this long spell of writers block without attempting so here i am. you'll never get this because i can't even try to send it to you if i wanted to, and honestly? good. fuck you. you never deserved my words. you still don't. every sentence, every word, is wasted on you and i can't seem to stop myself from writing this anyways. i hear your laughter, your anger, your joy, sadness, desperation, moans, and disgust as i write this. it's like i'm in your shitty ass apartment all over again, snorting whatever we could get our hands on while i'm ignoring calls from the girls. fucking and fighting and tearing each other down until you somehow gain the upper hand, i'm crying, and then in your arms yet again. the cycle just kept repeating, huh? you loved that. you loved building me up and breaking me down so many times that i lost who i was for a while. you loved the fact that you stranded me in your storm with no way out.

i'm fucking ruined because of you, but you already know that. you chanted it before, you sang how good it felt to fuck me up. the most fucked up part? i let it happen and i fucking loved it. every bruise, every emotional scar....i used to miss that shit. but you know what i missed the most? the drugs. the sex. the alcohol. the holy trinity of our relationship. i was clean before you. i had hardly drank before you. now i can't seem to cope with shit without having you follow me around still. i bled for you so much that now my blood is a part of you. i'll admit, the songs were fucking bangers. fucking batshit and some even fan favorites. i hate that. i hate that i have to play a song that i hate because they love it and they love you! the crowds fucking love you! no matter how fucked things got, no matter how honest i am in my music....they still fucking love you. you got your wish, you're immortal baby. i got scars on my body to prove it.

i used to love you. i think. i think you were the only thing i ever knew as love and that you were what made me think i could fall in love. now i know that love is just...not for me. you were my first love song. you were my only love song. how fucked is that? you fucking ruined my life. no matter where i go (which is fucking nowhere now) and no matter who i'm with...i have to be reminded that you fucking are still alive somewhere fucking some other young girl up who probably just wanted to share her music and her voice with the world too. someone who heard your scratchy ass voice at some cafe and got your number because you gave them that stupid drunk smile that could fucking ruin just about anyone. i have to remember that the only way i'm ever going to quit you is to start fucking over. i started over so many times and it always gets me back here. sneaking drinks, snorting a line or two when no one is around to get the creative juices flowing like you would say. losing my fucking mind because i can't seem to find my way back to myself. i really fucking hate you.

fuck you. this didn't make me feel better. this only reminded me that i am a product of you. that i am a bitch, i am closed off, and i will never connect with anyone outside of my sisters because of you. fuck you.

this is the last time i ever write about you.

-- sally

[darkandlightdance]

The way Livingway says "I can't be bothered with turning back" is just so in character and so hilarious.

Damn Thancred that was badass. I mean you got kidnapped but it was still badass.

That kinda makes sense. Thancred with is issues with Aether being able to use will to force dynamis to alter. Not sure how true it is given she's trying to make us despair but the logic seems consistent.

By believing she can't. That's the point. Belief in the face of despair, hope when all seems lost.

So out of curiosity why is the an Aetheryte in a place Aether doesn't reach?

Yeah, knew that was going to come up. But Estinien didn't falter in the face of the accusation. Pointed out conflict is a part of life. Alphinaud looks so fucking young in that scene. Damn Estinien knife them with your words, nice.

Isn't that the same form Meteion took when she flew away? So what was the dragon?

The only reason I'm not freaking out about them killing the Scions off is because I've seen the Dawntrail trailer. But if I had been doing this when Endwalker first came out like I had planned? I would have been freaking out.

Don't give into despair Alisaie. That will kill you all faster and more thoroughly than anything right now.

Holy Shit!!! They're playing "Dragonsong" in the background after Estinien did his thing and I just realized that the lyrics fit these dragons too. "Seeking solace in the abyss" not least of all. Holy shit, wow.

These guys are creepy. I feel like with how calm and simple things are proceeding we're going to get rather a shock about their past.

I wonder, are the blocks in front of the Scions specific to them? Is that why each one seems to have a way to clear a path through one of the obstacles? Or is it a plot-writer thing not an in universe thing?

Y'shtola what do you want to tell us? You're likely the next sacrifice if Uri's worry is correct so you should tell us now.

And that drove you to nihility? Okay immortality to the frozen end of the universe seems kinda shitty but to give up then and there?

Meteion does seem to be targeting these echos to one of the Scions. And it is her you can see Venat's tracker on the bird.

G'raha if you leave me before we summon the rest back and kick ass I will be so pissed. Because none of us will let it be the twins. And it can't be me, you fucking assholes. I thought I wasn't supposed to have to do this alone anymore!

Wow the Omnicrons are fucked up.

Their scout seems to have been destroyed and now they are stuck in a holding pattern. I'm assuming that the holding pattern eventually means they destroy themselves? Or Sigma is lying about the scout and just can't find any beings more dangerous than dragons. Which according to their parameters means that there isn't any use to fight them i guess?

Hmm, the lookout indicates that Sigma-1 got fucked up somehow. That might be what's leading the decline?

Well that one has started? to become the evolved? form of AI. I really should be sleeping but I wanted to get through this newest phase of disappear the Scions before I do…so I'm assuming I'll get through all but the last couple quests before I finish today.

Okay truth is that I got distracted for a while and the connection broke and closed the game but that happened at 330am so i wasn't wrong about it being late at night when i stopped. I just didn't manage to finish the quest set first.

So after a day getting my crafters all to 90 and finishing every Studium quest I can I'm back.

You create a project "become strongest" and forget to also figure out what to do when you complete that project, Omnicrons. Computer programmer feels.

Thank you Alphinaud that actually did help understand what was going on. There is a weird bit of G'raha's hair where it shows a gap of skin color rather than hair and it's kinda distracting.

I am going to force him to eat the most sour lemons I can find once I get them back, those assholes. Why do they keep doing this to me.

This is pretty upbeat music for having lost most of the Scions to self-sacrifice. The kids are very upset and I'm not any better…though I (I=WoL) am more practiced at continuing when my heart is bleeding.

I hate the ground around Omnicron. Just two more quest before I can fly and forget how awful it is. Come on you can do it!

I think Alisaie might be stronger for feeling Meteion's temptation and fighting it. Alphinaud doesn't seem to notice…I'm not sure if that's a good thing.

Huh, did not know you could ride a mount when accompanied. Learn something new.

Oh come on we should all know better than to split up by now. Out of curiosity does anyone know if WoL has ever told Alphinaud "No" when he's giving orders?

Well fuck. I guess the twins will do it. Because there is no way they can go forward if I'm the one to do so. Even if I make a path they wouldn't be able to win or even survive the coming confrontation.

My bet is on Zenos! What with Krile's shock and the heavy footsteps.

I recognize the voices but can only put a name to a few.

Hades Hythlodaeus haw dare you make me cry. I called them (the Scions) back. I don't even know why their return meant so much more than their loss.

Ah Hades it seems that it wasn't just the enemies thing, you're just a tsundere.

[hiraethenthusiast]

The Hollandairé | t.h.

pairing: ceo!tom x ceo! reader

word count: 16k+

synopsis: exes cross paths on a big event. will they be able to forget each other's mistakes?

warnings: language, sexual innuendos, mentions of an anxiety attack (if you squint), talks about miscarriage, my favourite angst.

a/n: well, well, well im back from a very shitty writers block! look at me, writing angst with exes? oof. can you tell that i absolutely love angst and makeouts in the end? i was somehow inspired by 'idfc' by blackbear to write this fic lol. it took some time and ofcourse i went overboard with it, so hope you enjoy! don't forget to like and reblog! (i even made a moodboard kinda thing uwuwu)

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"Conan I won't hesitate to knee you in the crotch if you don't stop pulling me off this sofa right this second" You tell your roommate, who is desperately trying to get you to go to a gala with him. Being a CEO brings its pros and cons. Pros being, you have a private jet, you're your own boss and you can shout at people with a reason. Cons being, annoyingly nice roommates. You had just shifted to a penthouse in downtown London with your friend Conan, because you refused to stay alone in this bigass house. (You tried living alone once, you were bored to death)

"Conan leave me alone yoo!" You said whining and hunching back into the sofa.

"Get the fuck up and get ready for the launch dude you promised me you wouldn't leave me hanging" Conan shouts over the voice of the t.v. blaring in the background. You pull you hand away from his grip and reach for the remote to shut off the t.v., focusing back on this tall red-headed figure in front of you.

"You know I don't like fancy shit." You grumble.

"It's YOUR fancy shit, get up Y/N." He says and reaches for your arms now, finally making you stand.

"Call Laura, I really don't want to go." You say pulling your phone out from your back pocket and handing it to him.

"If you haven't realised, your manager is the one who forced me to force you to attend the introduction of your fashion line" He fights back.

"- and Y/N. Hey, look at me. You've dreamt of this for how long? Almost all your life. And if you miss the chance to see your empire expand, it's gonna be devastating. You'll obviously miss the fashion show who's got the actual Rudy Pankow walking on a ramp, you'll also miss the opportunity to see people happy with YOUR work. Now get your ass up and get ready." He says and leaves the room, to get ready himself.

It's not that you don't want to go, you really do. Afterall, all of it is your hardwork. But the reason you're not going is because of that asshole. That asshole with whom you used to go out with once, the one who's current goal is to bring you down. The one and only, Tom Holland. You two used to date at some point, the ones who were in love actually, but the rivalry you two have got going on now has lead to you two knowing too much about each other. More than you know about yourself, the other knows it all. Small arguments turned into big ones, that eventually lead to the two of you leaving each other alone. You don't want to go because whenever you meet him, it all turns up into a big mess and your night is typically ruined, and you weren't in the mood for that, atleast not today. He's just a narcissistic bitch who thinks of nothing but degrading you. And that's the reason you don't want to go. Because you know if you talk to him one more time, these banters will persuade you.

But you do realise that you have to go. You have to go because you haven't gone to the last two launches for your perfume and swim line as well, and if you don't go today, Laura will actually end you.

So you just chug all your tea, leaving the kitchen with a grunt to go get ready.

"Hey Marco, can you send in that pantsuit I got done the other day? Look over for modifications if possible, although it looks great in just the solid colour, and please get it drycleaned." You tell your designer over the phone, to which he agreed and you go into your room to get your hair and makeup done.

"Wear a dress to the launch of your fashion line when it gets famous, yeah?"

"Pantsuits all the way Holland, you know I hate dresses."

"I know you do."

You remember the faint memory from over two years ago, that dream actually coming true, just without the person you dreamt it with.

You put your hair in a low bun with a middle part, giving you a classy formal look, and you do a almost non existent makeup look, only your eyes bold to accent with your outfit. Marco drops off the forest green pantsuit at your house, you giving it a twist with wearing a lace corset beneath the blazer.

"I look hot." You told yourself.

You and Conan leave for the event, you fidgeting in between 15 minute durations, Conan reassuring you that he'll be with you until the night ends.

That didn't last long. You lost Conan as soon as you entered the venue, so you occupied yourself with having conversations with other company owners, hearing how they're doing in the industry, blah blah blah.

"Do I look like I care?" You say to yourself.

You move ahead, only to cross paths with the one and only. He was wearing a cherry coloured perfectly tailored suit, adding a hint of Tom with the glasses. He looked good.

"And what do I owe this pleasure, Ms. Y/N?" He says, twirling his champagne glass in his hands.

"Look Holland I really don't have time for this shit, please take a goodie bag on your way home" You say with a bit of sass and start to move away, only to get your arm held back, making you bump in his chest.

"I see you wore the pantsuit you always wanted to wear at your event, angel " He says, making you pull away from him.

"Don't ever call me that again, and this is a warning." You were about to continue further with your answer, but you were utterly shocked to see the person in front of you.

"Is that the Y/N Y/L/N, in person, the one who's way too busy to answer my phone calls?" He says, making you laugh a bit.

"Jaeden?" You say, laughing heartily.

"In the flesh, tigeress." He says, doing grabby hands at you as an indication to pull you in a hug. You oblige and walk towards him and give him the biggest bear hug you've given anyone in two years. You pull back just to hit him on the chest once, playfully ofcourse.

"Tigeress. Oof haven't heard that in a while" You keep your conversation going on with Jaeden, while Tom is absolutely dumbfounded about whatever just happened in these past few seconds.

There's this hot guy named Jason or whatever, who calls you 'tigeress' and you aren't pestering him for calling you with a nickname but you definitely were ready to give Tom a piece of your mind when he called you 'angel'? Who is this guy?

Tom goes off to find Conan, who was situated at the bar downing a shot of tequila.

"Hey who's that guy Jason?" He asks him, pointing towards you and Jaeden in the middle of the hall.

"You mean Jaeden?" He says, biting onto a slice of lemon.

"Yeah whatever who is he?" Tom asks again, turning towards to bartender asking for a glass of whiskey.

"Why do you want to know?" Conan shoots back.

"Just curious. Can you just fucking tell me now?" Tom tries again, getting frustrated now.

"Chill dude. Jaeden used to work with Y/N a long time ago. He had this crush on her for like forever, but then Y/N went in for entrepreneurship and they were just not in contact with each other." He says.

"Crush huh?" Tom says, gripping onto his glass so tight that his knuckles almost turned white.

"Why do you look like you're about to murder someone?" Conan asks, getting concerned.

"Because I might." Tom says, grinding his teeth while forcing a smile.

The night goes by pretty smoothly, for you. You and Jaeden were clinged to each other almost the whole night, and then Tom watching you both from a distance, trying not to snap hard at people. He just took enough of it, he had to do something. He wasn't really sure why was he jealous, 'maybe because you love her' his heart said, but his mind crossing paths with a 'no you don't' in the middle. He was in a dilemma, but was mostly leaning towards his heart's side. He finally got up from his seat and walked towards you.

"Y/L/N." He says, keeping his composure.

"Yes?" You turn around to come face to face with him, laughing on something Jaeden had said.

"Board of Directors want to meet you on third floor. I was going that way only, wanted to inform you." He says.

"Oh okay. Jaeden I'll be back in a few. And tell me about that Mario Kart incident." You say, your laughter dying as you walk towards the elevator, motioning Tom to move as well. You both enter the elevator and you click the button for third floor.

"So Jaeden's a long lost friend, I assume?" He tries to small talk, failing miserably.

"Yeah, I used to work with him a long time back. Why do you ask?" You say, being the nicest you've been to Tom in two years.

"Just making small talk. So, exactly how long ago, you used to work with him?" He tries again.

"A really long time ago." You tell him.

"When we were dating?" He says, hesitating.

The elevator dings and you reach third floor, both of you moving into a very empty hallway.

"Why do you care Tom?" You say, making him frustrated even more.

"Because you're my fucking ex-girlfriend whom I'm worried about because that asshole has a mega crush on you" He says, making you jerk your head towards him.

"How many whiskeys have you had?" You ask him, because he was sounding oblivious that's for sure.

You turn around to open the meeting room to find it empty, making you glare at Tom once again.

"Why the fuck did you bring me up here Holland, where's the meeting?" You say, narrowing your eyes towards him.

"There is no meeting Y/N, the Board didn't show up this year, remember?" He says moving and fidgeting around the room.

"Then why did you bring me up here, dumbass?" That put him over the edge. He starts walking towards you making you take a few steps back, finally cornering you in the room.

"Because that guy is fucking flirting with you Y/N. That guy has been roaming around the whole night with my girl, touching and hugging my girl in front of me and you expect me to keep my calm? Huh? I don't fucking care okay? You're supposed to be mine and I was a jerk who let you go. I can't stand seeing you with other people. What the fuck is wrong with you Y/N, why did you leave me?!" He shouts at you, making your blood boil even more.

You push him back and stand in front of him, glaring as if you were going to rip his head off.

"No Tom, YOU left me, alright? I cried almost every night after that day when you left, and you didn't even have the empathy to give me a call. You, are too self-absorbed, and not me Tom. It was all you. I haven't been to even one of my launches just because I know you'll be there, you'll be there to put me down again. And why the fuck do you care about whom I talk to huh?" You shout at him.

"Why would I come to every single one of your launches Y/N?! To see you! To see the person who understood me more than I did, just to fucking see your face and calm my nerves!" He shouts back. He moves towards you and holds you chin to put your eyes at his eye level.

"Look at me Y/N. Look at me. Did we mean anything to you? Did I mean anything to you? Look at me in the eyes and tell me you never loved me. Tell me I meant nothing to you and I'll leave this second. Tell me that this was all a lie." He says, making your eyes water.

"You know I can't tell you that."

"Then why do you keep hurting me Y/N?! You hurt me so much! You left me when I needed you the most! I wanted you and you weren't there-" He shouts again.

"SHUT UP TOM, SHUT UP! Stop it! Stop! Please. Stop." You're crying hysterically now, hunching up in a corner trying to calm yourself down. Tom immediately sees it and runs towards you holding your hands and cradling them.

"Hey, hey Y/N. Look at me, look at me baby. It's Tom. Hey baby. I'm here, yeah? I'm here. Stop crying come on babe, please. Love, look at me. I'm here." He says, now running his hand over your cheeks wiping your tears.

"Go away. Go away from me." Is all you say, which makes his ears perk and brings water to his eyes.

He stands up and moves out of the room, closing the door just to hear you crying again. He sits down on the floor with his back on the door now, crying, waiting for you to say something.

"Please, open the door." He says, bursting into tears and hugging himself with his arms, wishing it was you.

Fifteen minutes pass by and you still haven't said anything. Tom misses you so much, and it was so fucked up of you to leave him like this. He was hurt, but he could never stop loving you. Ever.

"Losing you would be a nightmare that I'd beg to be awaken from everyday." You say opening the door, your eyes blood red, hair disheveled making Tom look at you, whose eyes were blood red too.

"What?"

"I was pregnant, Tom." You tell him, making his eyes widen and holding your hand for comfort.

"The day-" You clear your throat "The day we fought is when we lost the baby. I was going to tell you I was pregnant that day, but then that happened." You were crying a bit more now, but still held you composure so you can handle Tom from now.

"The argument gave me too much stress and, and it was affecting the baby so as soon as you left, um, my stomach started aching really badly and, and yeah we lost our baby then. That's why I left." You say, you were crying on his shoulder now, intentionally ignoring his reaction because you knew it would hurt him.

"We, we- lost our baby?" He says, a bit shocked but choking on his tears. You remain silent.

"Hey, hey. Listen. It's okay. It wasn't your fault. It was mine. I shouldn't have fought with you. You were already really worried and I just added onto your pressure. I'm so sorry baby I'm so so sorry." He was full-on crying now, he sniffled in your neck because he was too afraid to show his emotions.

"It wasn't your fault Tommy, it was ours." You say, running your hand in his curls. The way you missed his chestnut curls. It was all good again, well atleast you hoped.

Tommy. That always brought butterflies in his stomach.

You talked everything out in the bathroom, while washing your faces and cleaning up. You both understood that everything was going back to normal, just like the old times. One conversation lead to another, and you spent two hours on the bathroom floor just laughing and having gossip.

"It's been a while." You say laughing, looking at your watch.

"Yeah."

"Why did you say 'my girl' Tom?" You ask him directly.

"Hm?"

"You called me 'my girl' in the conference room. Why?" You tell him, and he instantly remembers that he did do that.

"You're in my head almost everyday Y/N. Even when you're not supposed to be. It shouldn't have been this hard letting go, but it was. I still love you, even if you don't." He says, taking some tissue paper off the counter.

"Who said I don't love you?" You say, making his eyes widen.

"Wha- wh- what are you implying here?" He stumbles upon his words, making you laugh.

"I still love you, you goof."

"Y/N you have to be serious you're making me want things I can't have." He says wholeheartedly.

You say nothing but grab him by his collar and kiss him with full force. After two years, you felt those soft lips on yours again, reminiscing every moment you had missed in these past years. They felt the same, soft and plump, just as if they were made for you. They fit in with yours like a puzzle, that was meant to be solved by these two hearts which were tangled, but now, in a right way. Tom kissed back almost immediately, feeling your lips was like a dream come true. A recurrent dream in his mind. You both pull back to see red and puffy lips and give out a light laugh. He doesn't stop, he keeps leaving peppery kisses all over your face mumbling sweet words again and again.

"I missed you so, so much angel." he says leaving a kiss on your nose.

"I missed you too bubba." you say leaving a small peck on his lips.

"Let's go now, we've been here for almost two hours." You start to move towards the door, but get pulled back by your waist.

"Tell Jaeden to maintain distance, yeah?" He says.

"Or what?" You say in a playful tone.

"Babygirl, I think you've forgotten what I'm capable of." He says, kissing your neck.

"I think I have. And stop kissing me I look shit." You say, laughing.

"I really don't care. You still look hot and I'm trying not to kiss you senseless right now." He says leaving another harsh suck on your skin, which can hopefully be covered by your blazer.

"Are you going to eyefuck me all night or are you going to do something about it?" You say, now kissing Tom's sweet spot.

"Finish this event in the next half an hour. I'll see you at my house babe." He says leaving one last peck on your lips.

You both reach downstairs after fixing your makeup and hair, you reach upto the stage and and hold onto the mic.

"Thankyou all for attending the event. We look forward to having more business with you! Don't forget to post something about our line 'The Hollandairé' on your social media platforms and don't forget to tag us! We are, The Y/L/N's thankyou have a good night!"

He listen to you and smirks to himself, because you do do what you say.

"I'm going to name my first fashion line 'The Hollandairé' " You say making a banner with your hands.

"And I'll be right with you then baby" He says, kissing your cheek.

Looks like he kept his promise too.

tagging some friends whom i think would like to read!:

@hollandslittlekoala @hollandsmushroom @leafy-holland @tomsoxytocin @scarletspideyy @t-lostinworlds

(pls do tell me if you don't want to be tagged further on!)

don't forget to reblog!

ilysmmmm. tpwk y'all!

[softrozene]

Thank you for reblogging that "on anon hate" piece. 🥺 It's something I'm scared of and I know that's silly 😅 and uh can you share how you get over anon hate? I could use any advice and thanks if you answer I hope your back feels better!!!!!!

Warnings: Dealing with anon hate and slight mention of mental illness/su*cide.

Of course, Hon, and thank you! It also is not silly at all! I used to have that fear on my old blog, and it did end up happening (as it does time from time here) so I can give you tips and whatnot.

First, let me address the problem that I have been seeing while I have been lurking. These past few days I have noticed an increase in anon hate or anon asks that try to pass off being good, but you can tell they are just condescending. It hurts to see that especially in the One Piece fandom where I have seen nothing but support aside from the occasional anon that gets unruly- But when that happens we all come together to defend that writer. That is what a good fandom is.

So, these few bad anons are trying to stir something up and it does work unfortunately and that is something I can’t stand. Especially when they go to blogs and harassing the writer in THAT writer’s safe space. Like hot damn, they are shitty people to do that.

These Past Few Days:

Of course, in one of the instances, I saw these past few days one of the “bad anon” was purely miscommunication and they apologized to that writer since. The other bad anon to a different writer was purely a total jerk since they were able to successfully hurt the writer mentally.

The anon function is meant for a lot of good things such as shy people, people wanting to give constructive criticism, those who do not want their blogs to be known by many people, people who get overwhelmed, people who want to spread love without it being a big deal (even though it is. Your hearts are big for that and everyone loves you for that pure intention).

The anon function is not meant for hate- That is abusing the anon function.

I, personally, use the anon function for my mutuals when I get anxiety when requesting something or just wanting to tell them how much they mean to me- When people use the anon function for that, such as their anxiety/they are just shy and whatnot I see them as hella brave for doing so. In this case, you are brave <3

HOWEVER- When people decide to use the anon function to send hate: That is literally the lowest thing you can do in not only my eyes but other people. You are sending hate knowing that it may not trace back to you. So, congrats if you do this- You are a coward.

As for whatever reason, someone wants to send hate, in the cases, I saw recently it was because the writers were wanting to open up to more fandoms. Fuck those anons who made the writers change their minds. It is not the anon’s blog- It is the writer’s. They are allowed to do whatever the hell they want without anyone’s permission. It is their safe space.

If you as an anon- Feel so obligated to send a writer or any other person your opinion on their blog saying you do not like something they wrote, you don’t care for this or that, or in your eyes, they are taking too long on your request, and you spam them with hurtful words ON THEIR BLOG, NOT YOURS- I really hope you can find peace one day because that ain’t it chief.

How fucking dare you try to hurt someone in their own safe space.

Those who have sent hate:

I genuinely hope you find a better thing to do with your life. I hope your words do not affect the person they reached. I have not a clue why anyone sends hate and it still bothers me today that they do but if you have any bit of empathy think of not just the person who you send hate to but the people that love them.

You could be the last thing that makes them go over a dark edge.

You have no idea what the person you send hate to is going through.

That person you sent hate to can have mental illnesses that makes them think whatever you say is true and seriously you are the biggest asshole on the planet if you wanted that to happen.

That person can be suicidal. (Of course, to some jerks who believe others will not act because of something on the internet, they have things outside in their real lives that make them feel that way. Your words can just be a breaking point.)

They could be clinging onto a shred of a will to live- Do not be that jerk that ruins it. Karma does bite back.

Words do hurt others and no matter how silly you may think it is- Words do have an impact.

Let me say that again because there are jerks who don’t believe that: You may think it is silly, but words do have an impact.

Now for the question, this lovely anon asked- How do you deal with anon hate?

Anon hate is going to happen, unfortunately- Especially to those who do not deserve it at all, and I despise that so much.

Personally, for me, it honestly still bothers me from time to time, but I have grown to get past it with multiple methods, so I hope these help.

Report and block them.

This is the top recommendation that I suggest. I have been sticking to this one without mercy for this blog and it has worked wonders. Anons who send hate are trying to get a reaction out of you so the easiest thing to get them to knock it off and move on with their lives is to report them for harassing you and blocking them. You can block anon asks by the three dots (I believe it’s been a while lol).

Bad anons thrive on attention. Just do not give a reaction and they will stop eventually.

Laugh it off

My actual first anon hate on this blog made me laugh so hard because they told me to off myself, but they misspelled it terribly. Yeah, it stung but it was more funny than hurtful to me. So if their message are hurtful remember that these people are abusing the anon function- A cowardly act and that makes it even funnier since they don’t want to deal with any consequences based on their behavior. In other words: They are childish.

If they are relentless then that usually means they are obsessed with you which is not healthy. (Lowkey recommend they see a therapist.)

Just call them out on having a crush on you and if they continue to harass you- Most likely denying it as hateful anons do, then you can safely say that yes, they have a crush on you (I used to do this on an old blog and when I tell ya it gets them mad lol)- This method works to just laughing it off so eventually you can grow to ignore them.

If you absolutely have to answer it- Tag your friends/mutuals or make sure they can see it so they can defend you. They are your support system

In this fandom- I always see so much support when it comes to getting hate so I know that it will happen. I can’t vouch for other fandoms/places of tumblr though.

Take the option to be on anon on your blog away- They go quiet really fast

Seriously- If it is bothering you please just take the anon function away until you feel comfortable enough to allow anons back on. You may feel sad for the good anons but they will understand why you did so. After this, please seek your support system if you need to vent about that bad anon.

My favorite other option that you can do while mixing it with these other options is to continue being you out of spite. Show them that no one can change you.

For my fellow sensitive people: Our subconscious minds think everything is true. It will hear or see one thing and it has no filter so it will go: Oh yeah- That is 100% correct- Even whatever you just read from the anon. For those who get hurt by anon hate and have a mental illness like me- I also suggest trying to rewire your brain with positive affirmations so it will be easier to realize that whatever the anon says is not true at all. It may take a while or may not be for everyone but it can help.

Overall?

It sucks but the best thing to do is to ignore, block, and continue on with your day spreading love and knowing you are a good person compared to them.

Maybe one day they can learn to love themselves and stop hating others (if the bad anon claim they do love themselves and can continue to be that way that just means they are extremely toxic and narcissistic and definitely will not switch their away around any time soon) but in the meantime be the bigger person than them (or have badass friends who don’t care and will fight to the death for you- For legal reasons that is a joke).

You have many options but just know that anon hate does not set your whole mood. That they may get off on sending hate but that is what their whole hobby is. While yours can be sending love- Your whole world does not consist of being on tumblr. It may be a safe space for you but remember you can also start anew if you need to. Do not let some silly hateful anon ruin your mood or make you afraid to go online. Do not give them that power.

Now on a much happier ending note, remember that these bad anons do not care about you if they are sending hate. However, there are people who go out of their way to tell you that they adore your content/your blog. They care and I think it is beautiful that they show it and come together to help others when needed.

This turned into an essay oops (1712 words yo)- Anyway, I hope that this helps you anon and I hope that it helps anyone else who may come across it. No matter what just remember you are loved.

[bbq-hawks-wings]

Really long ask - Part 1: Hi, sorry for this long rant, but I just wanted to vent since I saw this latest story posted on AO3 and I am restraining myself on commenting on their story so I'm just letting my anger out here about it and other issues regarding fan-depiction of Hawks. It's vaguely related to your post on how DabiHawks or Dabi+Hawks stories make it all about Dabi and always made Hawks out to be the one who starts the problems in their relationship or is the one trying to get Dabi's

Content warning: passing mention of r*pe in a fanfiction.

LOOOONG post under the cut.

(Cont.)

Dabi's attentions when it's canon that it's the complete opposite. This latest story that came up in my feed was about Hawks "harassing" Dabi (who apparently has a backstory of r*pe) and Twice helps Dabi works out his feelings. Among the hoards of tags condemning Hawks, they decided to use "Hawks is very uncool in this fic heads up" so that's another one to add to my filters. I think I also have to block the "Dabi Needs a Hug" tags too bc he's always woobified like heck. 

I really want to read stories where Hawks interacts with Twice since they have a bond/drama with each other, but people have been adding Dabi and either making it seem like Hawks has been gaslighting Dabi in their "relationship" or with Twice. I can acknowledge stories where Hawks feels guilty for what he had to do or Twice being anger/betrayed over Hawks' actions since that is actually what happened; but I will not stand for Dabi claiming Hawks took advantage of Twice or Twice and Dabi having feelings for each other with Hawks in the way bc Dabi is a) the one who let Hawks in b) knew Twice is gullible and c) used Twice as bait. Even in the stories that are cute/causal+funny, Hawks is always the one who gets threatened with fire, harsh insults, or guilted into compliance but the seriousness of the first 2 are always brushed off and the third kinda makes me want it that Hawks doesn't have friends bc most people write him as a bad friend who only cares about his own problems (especially the ones that write Hawks like a celebrity/night club person). 

On writing Dabi, his issues always take priority over everything else, his family loves him, and the lov is always chill with him. He's usually written as the fun asshole/caretaker (bc of his big brother status or ablity to cook). Those factors aren't bad by itself, but it's extremely irritating when the writers/artists can give that level of care to Dabi, but just reduce Hawks to a meme who is a workaholic for the government/scared of punishment & not bc he really cares about the people he saves/helps. It's not like I hate the DabiHawks pairing, but the majority of the content (esp the recent ones), are frustrating to read & Hawks' character is usually written in bad out of character extremes. I am really mystified that I'm praying for canon content rather than fanmade most of the time.

Phew! After the back and forth it looks like we got to the end of that! (Or did we?! *Dun dun DUUUUN*) If not, though, feel free to keep the asks rolling. Lol Foxy and I are usually pretty happy to receive as many asks as people want to send even if it takes us a while, individually, to get to it. Now to finally address what you sent.

I find myself in a weird place when it comes to OOC fanfic because on the one hand people can write whatever they want, and I don’t really have a place to criticize them; but also when they blatantly and willingly misinterpret a character so they have grounds to bash on them it also leaves me acutely uncomfortable. I don’t think I’d call it “problematic” as much as a squick? Like, if they’re willing to blow past all the obvious proof to the contrary about their claims of a fictional character just because they hate them, then are they willing to do the same thing to a real person? Usually, those kinds of thoughts are pointlessly extreme, but we know those who unironically and/or unapologeticly call fans of the heroes “bootlickers” so... It’s like, ooc vent fics are also fine; and if you want to rewrite a character to fit the narrative scheme you’ve set up that’s cool as long as its tagged (“ooc [character]” or something) and/or just mention in the a/n that they knowingly and willingly mischaracterized them for the sake of the fic. Just. Don’t. Claim. It’s. Canon.

And speaking of canon, as much as I’m sure Horikoshi knew Hawks and Dabi were going to end up shipped I think it’s obvious that he never was going to canonically write them ending up together, yet here comes the “canon must validate my headcanon” crowd calling him a bad writer because the author had some bigger narrative goal in mind than having two pretty anime boys kissing.

And the worst part to me is, I feel there’s a distinct slice of the DabiHawks crowd missing out on some of the possibilities of this ship by intentionally mischaracterizing them. Like, the aesthetic equal/opposite draw of the ship is phenomenal as it is and I don’t even ship them, but I can see a wide range of possible fics based solely on the principle that they are canonically incompatible!

At the end of the day, Dabi is a dime-a-dozen edgelord - that pain in the butt OC that so many newbie D&D players make that they think is so deep and dark and mature, but is about as cookie-cutter as they come. It’s not that this kind of character is unsalvageable or a hopeless Gary Stu character, just that they don’t often come across as compelling in and of themselves or that they need more than just selfish hatred to carry them through a series. Two kinds of edgelords that can be done well are the “Out of the Ashes” edgelord and “I’ll Pull You Into Hell With Me” edgelord. The first kind recognizes there’s more to life than their sad backstory and getting even and thus choose to aspire to more noble causes - think Joel from The Last of Us. The second recognizes they’re actively doing wrong and come to embrace it - being more concerned with getting what they want than taking the moral high ground - think Frank Castle, aka the Punisher - and even these darker, “unsaveable” kinds of edgelord antiheroes can have redeeming qualities such as meeting and helping a young hopeful and telling them, “I know I’m on the road to hell, so if you want to save yourself you’d better not follow me.”

Dabi actually has what he needs to become the second type right now (assuming he’s Touya) and could even evolve into the first not unlike Kratos from God of War, but that potential can’t be fully recognized until you admit that he’s fundamentally self-centered and a bad person as-is. He may have the tragic backstory complete with justifiable hate at his genuinely abusive father, but rather than using that as fuel to see that never happen to anyone else like it did him - he just wants to get even. He burns people alive, knowing well he’s participating in the same destruction that his father committed to make him what he is now. He doesn’t recognize any of the merits of hero society and is only concerned with burning it to ash. He could use what happened to his family to incite compassion in his heart and take others under his wing, but instead he uses people as a mean to his own ends. He isn’t even proper grimdark - he’s just your run of the mill egotistical megalomaniac with a punk aesthetic.

And that’s still a good character in the grand scheme of things, maybe just not alone! Moreso, it’s a good villain and EVEN BETTER when you put him next to Hawks who is at his core:

Fundamentally Hopepunk!

Hopepunk is about being good and kind as an act of rebellion against a cruel and unfair world no matter how bleak it gets or how badly you’re beaten down. Despite his own cruel past, Hawks still has a heart to help others for no other reason than to help them, he constantly changes the odds to save as many people as he can when he’d be given a pass for letting the cards fall where they will, and not only is his aim to “help others” but to make sure that there’ll never be need for heroes again. He’s an active rebel against the system fighting with kindness and goodness, fervently looking and listening for the next opportunity to do good.

In agreement with you, Hawks and Twice are interesting to explore because while Twice is an optimist looking to make the world a better place, he’s still a step or two removed from Hawks’ worldview because Twice refuses to let go of the “family” he found for himself while Hawks is willing to sacrifice himself for others. That dynamic is so interesting, and it’s what made them so initially compatible and subsequently heartbreaking in canon.

And it’s such a disappointment to see this unwaveringly earnest character reduced to “shitty fratboy” so often. For a lot of people newer to his character I can understand the confusion, but there really isn’t an excuse if you’ve been reading the series, and the possibilities for fics with this canon personality are just so much more interesting to explore, especially with Dabi as his sort-of opposite.

For DabiHawks to work well, you have to recognize that something has to give in either of them. Some of the juiciest, most angsty content is when you have two characters grow close together over commonalities only to be reminded that despite everything else they share, that One Thing will always keep them from truly being able to see eye-to-eye. Either Dabi has to grow past his hatred and relearn compassion and empathy, or Hawks has to lose grip of that hopeful vision he has and fall into despair. Both options are good to explore, but both require the acknowledgement that Dabi’s view of the world is fundamentally bleak and selfish, especially compared to Hawks’. For a supposed revolutionary out to change the world for the better whose a diamond in the rough with a heart of gold, that’s not exactly on-brand; and at the end of the day the issue is that some are unwilling to admit that what they wanted Dabi to be is likely not going to happen and they love that fake version Dabi more than they love what Hawks actually stands for which is why Hawks always gets the shaft in the end.

I still personally hold a bit of a grudge against the DaiHawks ship as a whole purely because, as you said, Dabi always seems to take priority over Hawks instead of letting the two build a dynamic together. Hawks is always the one who has to give, and the torture porn some have made him go through to “make the ship work” is downright disturbing to me. Even at its height DabiHawks content completely flooded the Hawks character tags on Tumblr with some of the same problems that have persisted to this day such as emphasizing their aesthetic as opposed to their dynamic and rampant mischaracterization.

Anyway, that’s my long-winded response. What do you think, @autumn-foxfire?

[jojoreadwhat]

you're all in my hands tonight, tonight I'm a rock 'n' roll star. / honey & smoke - m.h. x OFC story

Four Days Later, On A Friday.

Matty's POV

Computer Education had already given me a sour taste in my mouth and I only sat through two of its lectures. One because I knew majority of what was listed on the slides Professor Nolan was scheming through. I really had no explanation why I applied at UNI in the first place. I had high hopes that the tapes the boys and I sent into Capital Records would hit a soft spot. Sending us on a one way trip to success, where none of these qualifications would matter as long as I wrote out the music.

Then again if it all went down hill where I'd arrive at my flat with a box of tapes with the word 'denied' repeatedly stamped over it like fragile, even though my heart would be the fragile piece in that box. It would open the door behind the scene, the little paper of a degree with my name. A ticket of being able to tweak the shitty tunes on the radio that replayed like the TV movies do on Sundays.

Two, Professor Nolan was a bit of a drag. A fine dapper looking gentlemen in his early fifties. His hair slick back dirty blonde with what looked like emerald eyes the last time I stood close. A close shaved beard that extenuated his sharp jaw line. Dressed to the nines that if you seen him on the streets, you would've thought he had millions and a white collar type business. Even though, his Gucci navy suit that my father had exactly and bought for fifteen hundred dollars could make you believe he sat on a green mountain of dollar signs.

I felt his personality and aura resembled a present me. Barely in tune with all the new things happening but completely in tune with the young ladies that gave any advantages to pass. But in his case the young ladies could pass as daughters if the sucker had any.

"Open Audio Access on your laptops." He commanded, changing the slides that was accompanied with taps and clicks from everyone following along. I sighed to myself, everything that was on those poorly designed boards. I had edited and achieved on a new track the boys and I had recorded last night.

I slouched back in my seat, listening to Nolan's cocky Mr. Know-It-All demeanor. His degrees decorating the back of his desk fact it in that he knew more. Only giving him the approval of having Professor in front of Nolan instead of Mister.

++

After commenting on Mindy's plaid skirt, Professor Feast-A-Lot finally dismissed us.

I still had a class within the hour, just some simple music class that I signed up for the laughing matter. Always stating my answers to bands I drowned myself in as the other students wanted to cuss me out. Sighing to themselves, like that mop got the spill of answers.

With the time I had between I decided to get some coffee. The tea I had earlier with George talking about his night wasn't living up to it's strong expectations. Even though the class I just left could stand as a contender of an explanation.

I walked with the rush of the hundreds in the halls, making my way to left wing lounge and turning the corner of muraled up wall, covered in vibrant flowers and weird shapes from the art program.

Waiting at the counter I turned to scan the little lounge, just many studying with their textbooks as heads. Some talking to another. Just the common vibe of any little coffee shop you stepped your foot into.

One of them sticking out like a sore thumb.

Lucy.

Writing in her leather bound journal that rested on her crossed legs, playing with the slight tear in her in the hem of her playful colored dress.

Relaxed and looking out the window on the purple wing-back in the cafe lounge. Watching the shades of orange, red and yellow converse against the blue sky. Admiring her side profile, a high cheek bone with a light dusting of blush against her milky skin, her perfectly rounded jaw. Her lashes curled with a coding of mascara that complimented her baby blues.

I watched as she grazed her bottom rosy lip with the back of her pen in thought.

The red headed barista asked for the second time what I wanted before realizing that she was even speaking. Finding it hard to take my eyes off the scenery near the window. I ordered my black coffee, then pointed out Lucy who looked disappointed in the last drops of her cup. Dark roast, light with vanilla, sugar and two shots of the sleep she had lost the night before.

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

Lucy's POV.

I was finding myself becoming a frequent patient with my therapeutic glances of the vibrant trees and the sounds of the espresso machine. Sitting in the same wingback, looking about the window, stuck in what I was going to jot in my journal next. My first week of being in London and enduring classes was wrapping up, nothing worthy had happened yet to write about and I was finding myself running around a writer's block.

As much as I wanted my creative juices to keep blending. I couldn't complain about how things were going. University has been so far treating me well. I've met a good handful of my professors in Week A, many have taken a liking to me which I couldn't quite grasp. But it wasn't a bad feeling to know about, plus Professor Jones really liked my thesis of A Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. Putting a good word into the librarian of the Uni's library and landing me a interview for Monday.

Things at the university housing with Liz and Abby was going pretty well too. I was growing more fond of them by the minute, both interested in the same type of books, music and films. Liz was a bit realistic and logic about life, which kind of put a damper on things if you were trying to live in a fantasy world with reality biting you in the ass. Then Abby was more free spirited and self aware of what made an individual very much happy, even when the world was not so happy.

Then lastly, home. I finally Skyped my brother Eric and my dad. It was early for them but quite late for me. But in all I was mixed with emotions, both joyful and sad that I wasn't home. They are doing well so far.

I sighed to myself, resting my leather bound on my lap and retreating my blue eyes to the shades of orange, red and yellow. Reaching for the coffee I had finished moments ago, but reluctant to get up and grab another.

But that was before one was brought to me instead. By another thing that I had happened to come across this week.

"Am I intruding?" The English native that I met my first night here had greeted, handing me the warm paper cup with pretty botanical flowers repeated. I shook my head, gesturing my free hand to the wingback across.

Matty sat down, folding his long legs over one another. His eyes meeting mine, smiling softly as his mouth indulged in a sip. Giving me a few moments to admire before another word.

He wasn't wearing his glasses today but his hair was the same as the night I met him. Pulled back into a bun with loose curls shaping out his face. My eyes leading down to his lined out jaw. His collarbones, the tattoo that always made an appearance no matter what type of shirt he wore this week. To the lasting hole over his knee.

I was broken from my stare when he had chuckled, possibly figuring out that I was staring long.

"Anything new?" He asked, his eyes gesturing to my open leather bound. I shook my head, slowly closing it against my knee before my eyes met his again.

He looked at me surprised and in disbelief, "So the storyteller doesn't have a story to tell?" He questioned, resting his cup on the table aside us. I shrugged, it was truly hard to believe but as my mind moved fast the world outside of it didn't and I was at a stand still.

"It just been classes, reading and then some." I finished, finally taking a sip of my coffee.

Matty smiled at me again, a smile I could watch curl at the ends of his mouth like a favorite part to a movie. "We may have to change that." He said, looking at me with tricks under his sleeves and me swimming in his over sized sweater.

I had to cut my coffee break short when I realized I had time run to my next class, Woman Studies.

Shortly becoming my favorite class as we debated fundamental rights and she played Kathleen Hanna fronted Bikini Kill winning my anarchy heart.

"Don't forget to read The Second Sex and please have your reasoning's sent in by 12 AM on Monday." She dismissed. I followed suit with the rest of the class as I packed away my things for the weekend.

Making my way to the hall to get lost in the hundred of others trying to head out and not miss the next Tube coming by. The boy in a leather jacket that I was sharing a coffee with an hour earlier was leaning against the wall next to the door.

His devious smirk gracing upon his face, "I'm feeling like you're onto something." I commented, a small smile plastering across my cheeks. Matty rippled a contagious laugh that I could listen to like an album on my turntable.

"Can't a gentleman just walk a lady home safely?" He remarked.

++

"No! That's a lie!" I laughed, hitting Matty's forearm lightly. We had moved onto music since Matty offered to walk me home. And let's just say we had a few differences.

Matty loved older music, which I did too. But I found Prince to be a bit cooler than MJ. Which didn't sit well with Matty. "Have you heard the magic in Rock With You?" He mentioned, "It's fucking legendary!" It was so funny to see him go off, but I never said I didn't like the man! I knew how the sounds had your hips moving. I was just a Purple Rain kind of girl.

Matty stood in front of me, walking backwards down the sidewalk.

Girl. Close your eyes... He began singing, moving his hips to the beats that played out in his head. Taking my hand, and pulling me close.

Let that rhythm get into you, don't try to fight it. Placing one hand above my hip, the other still in mine. Directing my hips into a sway, as his voice hit me like sweet serenity.

He went on, and I was enjoying every bit of it. Music was his muse like books were mine and he wasn't ashamed to show it. His hips showing that he never stopped moving either.

We had arrived to the front of my flat, Matty belting more songs of MJ.

"I have to get in," I mentioned, not really wanting to do so. Matty's lips kept moving "Not until you change your mind." Singing in the measures of Don't Stop Till You Get Enough.

I chuckled, still dancing with him till I finally caved in. "Alright, Michael Jackson is better." I confessed, meaning every word that fell from my mouth. He just chuckled, pulling me closer and bringing his lips to my ear.

"I think you're lying" his warm breath grazing my lobe. Sending chills down my spine. I went to protest when Liz and Abby got out of their car. Interrupting our manifest. They just softly smiled, saying Hello before retreating up the porch. I looked up at Matty, who still had his hand around my waist.

Matty pulled away with a soft but questionable expression on his face. I wondered what was on his mind.

"Come watch us play tonight." He said, "The boys and I are playing at the bar George's bartends in. I'd like to see you there."

Many different excuses ran through my mind. Studying, catching some sleep, watching the same three episodes of The Office, outline my far along memoir that would be a flop. Just a rush of things that could've fallen from my mouth.

"Alright, sounds like fun." Happened to be the better option.

Matty's smirk turn a bit shy, looking to the ground before he looked back up at me.

"I'll pick you up at 6?" He questioned, I nodded. Still confused on why I was agreeing to this extravaganza in the first place. A smile gracing his face once more before turning on his Vans to head back to where his road led him.

"See you soon, Blue."

[elsaclack]

Hi :) This might sound weird haha but I adore reading you talk about your writing, it's really inspiring and I feel like I learn a lot of things every time I read you talk about it (you know I'm a fan of your style haha). And anyways while I was reading your answer to your last anon, this struck me: "when i was outlining that chapter i think the only line i dedicated to the actual fight itself was “and then they have a crazy knife fight (good luck future me)”" and I wanted to ask you (1/2?)

(2/3?) do you have like any tips for writing a multichapters fic? I guess from what you wrote here you outline the whole thing before you start with it? Or it depends or the story and sometimes you just go with the flow and see where it goes haha? Do you mind sharing some of your writing process of multichapter fics? :3 Bc I tend to get "bored" really easily and if I don't finish something in one sitting I usually never ever finish it. But also I'd like to learn how to take my time sometimes

(3/3) and idk maybe learning how to properly "get ready" to write something long would help haha. I'm sorry if this doesn't make sense at all but yeah in any case just thank you for blessing my nights with your fics and killing me over and over with feels, I'm sure I said it before but you (and all of the amazing writers this fandom is blessed with) are a true inspiration!!!

you are SO sweet to me i die fhflkdsjf

i’m gonna go ahead and throw 100% of my answer under the cut because i haven’t even started yet and i know this is about to be. So Long. i am sorry in advance lmao

there are a couple of different aspects to this ask that i want to touch on so i will be as brief as possible but as i have proven twice over tonight alone, i am really not capable of that lmfao

i’d say first and foremost, the biggest thing you can do to help yourself in this arena is figure out how to best discipline yourself. which SUCKS it’s like the worst most mom answer ever but in all honesty, developing discipline in writing is what separates the “i could write a book” people from the people who actually do write books. everyone is capable of writing, but not everyone has the discipline or patience to do so. long-form narrative requires even MORE discipline than a one-shot (or even a long one-shot) because it’s like you said, it requires the author to come back over and over and over again to write new material and edit existing material and figure out a way to cohesively connect everything they’ve written into one consistent narrative, and some people have a much harder time with that than others do. there’s nothing wrong with that either way!! the world needs short stories just as much as it needs longer stories. but if you’re wanting to work on writing longer-form narratives, working out a way to best discipline yourself should probably be your number-one goal.

that kind of brings me to my next point (and also ties in part of what i was talking about in that other ask) - comparing your writing style, your progress, your everything to other writers will only lead to heartache for you. when i first started reading and writing for b99 i came across a specific author (who is now one of my dear friends) whose fics were just. next-level works of art. and while i read through just about everything she’d written for b99 and LOVED every single one of them, i found myself getting more and more down on my own writing, because i knew i’d never be able to write like her. but the more comfortable and confident i got in my own writing, the more i realized that it’s less about writing more like That Person and more about developing my own style (my favorite comparison to make between my writing and hers now is that hers are like beautiful and intricate fairy tales, and mine are more of a smokey back room at a bar where a guy is sitting alone at a table and he says “come here and listen to this story.” they’re both Very Different, and perhaps have varying audiences, but one is not inherently Better Or Worse than the other). all of this to say, if you’re working as hard as you can and being really disciplined but still find yourself struggling with writing a multichap, THAT’S OKAY!!! there’s NOTHING wrong with that!!! your writing, however short or long, serves an INCREDIBLY important purpose within the fandom as a whole and no matter what, there will ALWAYS be an audience for your writing.

so okay as for the actual Advice!!! i actually have a couple of steps that i usually follow prior to actually Writing the first chapter of any long fic i’ve written (or am in the process of writing...@king and lionheart yikes). i have yet to really find any consistency in how i think of ideas for multichaps - so far the idea every multichap i’ve written has come from a different source (which is actually kind of Frustrating for reasons i won’t get into). but basically once i actually have An Idea, i’ll take a day or two to kind of think it over and flesh it out as much as possible. if it really starts expanding in detail and an actual Story constructs itself around the idea, i’ll move on to the next step, which is to find a few trusted mutuals here on tungle.corn and say “heyyYYY CAN I YELL ABOUT AN IDEA I HAVE FOR A SECOND” and then spill everything i’ve thought of so far. usually i can tell if an idea will live or die based on these conversations - if the other person is Into It and we start sort of developing the world within the chat, i know it’s time to really sit down and make an effort to pursue the fic. in that case, i will go and copy&paste that part of our chat into a google doc and i’ll build an outline in a separate doc. i used to despise outlines and i would refuse to do them in high school, but once i got into writing as a hobby and i started pursuing longer narrative forms, i tried once or twice to write a multichap without an outline and i just forgot a lot of the details i originally wanted to include, which left me feeling really frustrated with myself and with my writing. i came to realize that outlines kind of a necessary evil, so in writing them i made them as fun for me as possible (i.e. the “good luck future me” line from the king and lionheart outline i mentioned lmao). now i love them and i have them open at all times while i’m working on writing a new chapter.

so i know that i started this off by saying that writing multichaps requires a special kind of discipline, and i stand by that, but also...writer’s block and real life responsibility and just plain exhaustion are all Very Real Things, and they take precedent over keeping up with a publishing schedule (if you’re so inclined to make one of those for yourself). when i started writing king and lionheart, i didn’t know at that point that i would be headed back to school in the spring, and thought that i would have all the time in the world to write. right around november, i realized that i would be going back to school - that’s about the time i took an unofficial hiatus from writing king and lionheart, because i knew trying to keep up with writing that fic the way that i want it to be written and all of the intensive and demanding coursework was going to kill me. taking a step back from posting and coming back to it later is okay. i know i talk a lot about feeling guilty for not having an update for king and lionheart (and the cancer au before it) but in all honesty i know that it’s okay for me to take some time and deal with my real life. and, you know, it’s also okay to lose inspiration for a while and to take a step back until that inspiration comes back. i think it’s that fear of not being able to take longer breaks between updates that scares a lot of people off from even trying to write a multichap - as the queen of procrastination, i am here to tell you that it is 100% okay to start a multichap and to take a break and come back to it when necessary!

writing a multichap is very much like running a marathon - it requires a different kind of energy than a 400 meter sprint or a 1k fluffy oneshot. it’s gonna hurt and it’s gonna suck and there are gonna be times when you’re ready to just quit writing altogether. but there will be parts that are really fun and really easy and you’re gonna get some really great views along the way - and at the end when you cross that finish line and you’re able to check that “complete” box on ao3 before you post the last chapter, you won’t remember the parts that sucked. trust me!! i wouldn’t write as many as i do if the actual shitty parts of the writing process negated the good things that come from writing it and sharing it with other people!

it’s also worth noting that just because you get bored with an idea doesn’t mean that you can’t pick it up again later!!! honestly the first 2 or 3 paragraphs of on your heart like a tattoo sat in my google docs for MONTHS before i randomly decided one day to open it and take a crack at finishing it, and to this DAY i’m still getting people regularly commenting on it. every idea has its purpose and its place, even if it doesn’t always immediately seem like it.

i really hope this helps and i’m sorry if it doesn’t!!! you are such a kind and wonderful person and i absolutely adore you

[angstmaster69]

Hey blue! I saw that you deleted your youtube AU and i was just wondering why? I hate to sound all mother-y and patronising, but are you okay? Or did you just not want to write it any more? I hope i'm not stepping out of place to saying this but I really liked the story and where it was heading so I'm sad to see that it's gone and won't be updated :( but I hope you're okay! :)

Hey I just sent the ask a second ago, about hoping you're okay and about youtuber AU being deleted, and I just wanted to know if maybe you could tell us what was supposed to happen in the plot? I know I'm not the only curious one lol, and I was just wondering :) I hope you have a good day!

i actually JUST answered why i deleted/stopped writing yt au in another ask! as for the other points, i’ll answer under the cut because this is probably going to get pretty long!

first of all, please don’t worry about me, i’m fine! i’m just going through pretty nasty writer’s block right now, but i’ll be okay! i’m trying to just write through it, even if everything turns out super shitty, but yeah. it’ll pass. and if it doesn’t, then i’ll still continue to write, it just won’t be at my usual standard of writing, so i’m sorry for that.

secondly, i’m honestly really sorry that you were enjoying the fic and i just.. took that away from you, kind of unfairly. i just wanted to be rid of it, honestly. i’ve deleted a lot of docs from my computer regarding it too, so now it’s just, like, gone, thank god. but, yeah. hopefully i can just tell you the plot now and get it over and done with, and maybe that’ll help with closure i guess?? i know it’s really not a big deal that i deleted it, but it kind of is to me. i feel like i failed in some way. anyway.

i feel like before we get into the plot some details should be revised? it was always going to be endgame taekook. that much is for sure. they’re fwb. obviously there’s the queerplatonic vmin (which i REALLY wanted to explore the dynamics of because romantic friendships are Lit™ and i lovelovelove vmin with all my heart) and i mean, jeon and jimin are like, at odds with each other for Reasons, and yeah, taehyung is one of them, but also they just kind of clash in an ugly way and it’s tense and taehyung is like, the only reason they haven’t fought properly. i mean, they were gonna have a fight in the fic in the first draft, but then i edited it out and made them sit down and talk Like Adults and work through their issues, because i’m kind like that. there’s namjin being all gross and couple-y and in love in the bg, and then there’s weird yoonseokmin vibes, and it was kind of A Mess, and taehyung Does Not Do Relationships And Fucks Around A Lot Instead and he’s like, in denial about a lot of things. they’re all youtubers. yoongi is ace, taehyung has a very weird complex with his ability to form romantically involved relationships due to both family and personal past experiences. jeongguk is in love with taehyung but it’s beginning to take its toll on him. and NOW we can start.

so like, in the chapters that i posted, taehyung has a livestream for his 10 million subscriber party. he and jeongguk end up kind of getting caught making out but also kind of don’t, then they sleep together and spend the day together and just pray it blows over. there was a bottom taehyung riding scene, then jimin and taehyung flew out to seoul from la. jimin gets mad at taehyung because he sees him bitching out at jeongguk over text and he brings up ‘taekook’ (i’m SHAMELESS) with the fan they talk to on the plane, and it pisses him off, one, because he kind of despises jeongguk, and two, because taehyung is being kinda rude and jimin’s tired and it’s not his fault he likes filming everything. so yeah, they’re in seoul and taehyung meets up with some friends, one of whom is jeongguk’s Big Ex that taehyung didn’t know about, and it freaks him out when he finds out because he gets jealous and this is where things start Going Bad. 

basically, he gets home and kind of breaks up with jimin, then medicates with drugs and sex and alcohol, then jeongguk and jimin have their aforementioned talk and help each other to help taehyung. jimin sorts his yoongi-and-hoseok thing out, and makes up with taehyung. jeongguk kind of moves in with taehyung, just to check he’s doing okay, and taehyung starts doing better. he makes videos again, even though it’s not the same, and he travels more often to see friends and family and the world, and sometimes jeongguk joins him. they have a lot of sex, sure, but they also talk to each other seriously a lot more, and taehyung tries to communicate properly. he lets himself fall in love with jeongguk, and they’re like kind of official without actually explicitly saying they are, then they’re caught kissing in public and all hell breaks loose. taehyung fucks up and says a lot of hurtful things to cover his ass, and jeongguk is just Done with waiting for taehyung to admit his feelings. so - and this is like, the Big Moment that the au builds up to - taehyung makes a video. he starts off slow and small, just talks about his life and where he’s at and the affect youtube has on it. then he starts spilling all kinds of things his viewers have been questioning for years - things about him and jimin, things about him and other youtubers he’s been rumoured to date. things about him and jeongguk. and at first jeongguk doesn’t watch it, but namjoon convinces him to, and so he sits down in front of his computer and watches the video. it’s forty minutes long. 

taehyung. spills. everything. a full exposé of himself. he talks about about his sexuality, and his internal struggle with his aromanticism and difficulty bonding. he talks about everything, from the moment he and jimin decided to enter a queerplatonic relationship, to the moment he realised he’d fallen in love with jeongguk. he talks about how he’s been sleeping with both of them this whole time, and other people, too. how he faked being friends with some other youtubers, just because that’s what everybody did. how much he genuinely loves his real friends. how jealous he felt when he met jeongguk’s ex. how guilty he felt when he broke it off with jimin. other things, too, and jeongguk has to pause it halfway through because he’s sat there, cold, in the dark, balled up on his massive desk chair, crying. there’s no way taehyung can go back from this. his viewers will love it and eat everything up, and of course, taehyung could totally monopolise on the attention and popularity, but jeongguk hears the ‘goodbye’ and the channel deactivation before he gets to the announcement of it at the end of the video. because yes, okay, taehyung could come back from this, but there is no way that taehyung would ever want to.

so taehyung leaves youtube. the others still carry on, and they’re all still successful, of course, especially jimin. he sort of takes over taehyung’s space online, even though he had no intentions to. jeongguk and taehyung talk things over. they agree it’s not time for them just yet, but they’ll wait for each other. so taehyung uses his name to get a job as a cinematographer for an up-and-coming indie studio in hollywood, and he lives comfortably and modestly with his friends by his side. he doesn’t just completely disappear online, and he still pops up in his friends’ vlogs and videos sometimes, but he’s nowhere near as active or as influential as he was before, and he loves it. it brings him peace, and space to think and feel and be, and soon enough, he’s ready to welcome jeongguk and his love into his life.

he’s happy. they’re all happy. 

i’m almost hesitant to post this, because it’s still fluid and ever-changing in my head, so please note that this is the plot as it stands, and that parts of this will probably be improved or changed in my head over time, but that i’ll probably never discuss this again unless prompted to. on that note, if anybody has any questions about this au, please feel free to ask me! as long as it’s not about if or when i’m going to reupload or update or whatever.

again, i’m fine, thank you for thinking about me, and i’m super sorry for deleting so abruptly but please try to understand where i’m coming from with this when i say that i just couldn’t do it anymore. i’m sorry, and i hope you have a good day too! thanks for checking in :)

[kingsuckjin]

Hey moon, i just read your post on how fanfic writing can be such a pressure. You know you're one of the first writers i read fanfics of and decided to open a tumblr account. Your writing is so good moon. I hope you know it. And i actually understand where you are coming from. Maybe not with writing but with other stuff that i love to do. I think it's only human nature that we feel like doing better that we did before. Fear of failure, rejection it gets everyone i believe. So i think it's okay that u feel like that? Like okay in the sense that i happens cause we're all humans and it's part of the struggle. Pretty shitty but that's just how it is. When i get overwhelmed i usually take some time off of everything and everyone. Like get in solitude type until i feel like i fixed myself enough to face the world again. Whatever it is that's making you feel so tired or guilty (which it shouldn't be) i hope you let yourself heal from it. Life is changing all the time, so even though if you feel like you can't do this anymore right now. Sometimes later you might get the enthusiasm back to do it again. And then it wouldn't matter if anyone is liking it or following it much or not. It'll be only about your happiness. I hope you find that soon moon. But attaining you inner peace is the first thing here.

Idk if what i'm trying to say made much sense. You don't have to reply. I just wanted you to know this. I hope you feel better soon. Sending positive vibes and good wishes. Take a virtual hug and stay blessed sweetheart. Love you tons ❤💜❤💜❤💜❤

Hey there love🖤 it made perfect sense. This is going to be a long one and I'm gonna put warnings Tw: sexual harassment, bad friends, mental health, name calling, bullying and just a lot of terrible things I've been through and me explaining why I just can't be here on this blog. I know I've said dome of it before but I'm telling you, you all really have no idea.

I don't know if it's as much burnout or guilt as this blog is becoming overwhelming and I'm not sure how to maintain it. Before I started writing is casually comment on fics and leave reviews and compliments, and sometimes writers wouldn't answer them and I felt like it was something I did or said or they just didn't care, I was a whole idiot then. Even when I started writing and began to kind of gain a following I said to myself “this is easy to reply to comments and messages and requests, I don't have to accidentally hurt anyone by not replying” and then I just kept growing and learned how dumb I was. I love the interaction, and I read it all, every comment, every ask, every message and I'm unbelievably grateful for it and I'm fully aware other writers lack it and need it (and to even say all of this makes me feel terrible, I also deal with the feeling that I don't deserve all the kindness and comments) like, other writers get little to no interaction but sometimes when you aren't at your best mentally it's hard to keep up with even the slightest amount of interaction with people and often times id take a break after putting out something that did well because it was a little overwhelming and I also didn't feel like I deserved it (good old imposter syndrome). I have so many friends I've made on here that don't do as well as I do but in my opinion are MUCH better writers. On the opposite end, I've also had “friends” on here that would talk to me only to ask me to reblog their fics. Idk that's the other end of it, you just don't know who to trust on here and who actually cares and wants to really be friends. Since I've announced that I'm leaving this blog it's really shown me who actually cares about me as a person and not only whatever little measly about of influence I can give and bring to others. So I just want away from it all.

My actual plan is to shut it down here on kingsuckjin and keep writing on my other blog where I have set up boundaries for limited personal interactions. I don't care about the likes or reblogs, I just don't want the tangled web of this blog anymore. This is a hobby and it should never be this deep, but I know it was my fault for making it this deep so now I'm just going to start again and just keep it as a hobby and not let it take over so much of my time. It's not that I don't have the willpower to write, I'll always write, it's what I love, I just don't have the willpower to deal with some of the toxic stuff and people that come along with it all when you're in too deep here.

It's all just draining, and that's not even counting the terrible and scarring asks I get telling me bad things that someone is going to do to you all and myself, you wouldn't believe the stuff I've gotten and that I know others close to me have gotten in their ask boxes. Some people say they don't get anon hate and it makes me so happy to hear them say that, I long for that, I know a lot of us do. But leaving this blog is like leaving a bad relationship. I see my peers get a wave of anon hate and I say “fuck, not this again, that makes me feel so bad”, I see a wave of fics being stolen and say the same thing, I see other writers bullying smaller ones and say the same thing, I see racist people, gatekeepers, people hating on olderpeople here, people scrutinizing others hard work, people hating on genders and sexualities. You know what one of my first asks was when I started? “You need to be using more commas, it's hard to read your fics and you look illiterate” and English isn't even my first language, it's not the language first learned, I didn't learn it until I started school. I'm not a professional writer I've had never claimed to be a good writer, I didn't ask for any “constructive criticism” or anyone's two cents and honestly some people just need to keep stuff to themselves.

I've seen too much shit and while I spent a lot of time fighting all sorts of shit on here because it feels right, but it gets me nowhere and nothing but being labeled as some sort of a problematic blog and I’ve been told by other writers “yeah, I blocked you because I don't want to see that problematic shit on my dash” after I was fucking bullied along with countless others by one group of people. You can imagine after taking all of this, everything I've mentioned so far, how someone could feel too drained and scared to interact with people on here.

I know blogs that don't get into stuff or talk about things like that and I'm definitely not saying they're wrong because I now have a blog that I do that on too. Tbh, sadly, I think that's where a chunk of my followers came from, not my fics but me saying something isn't right and it feels in a way that I've gained followers off of “drama” and that makes me a little sick. While not saying anything and ignoring problems on here might not be great and also ignoring it won't make it go away, neither will me getting all fighty and upset over it, that just hurts me. I just want things to be more shallow, I just want this to be just a hobby again.

Anyway, the point I suppose is that I just need to shut the hell up and keep this place as it's needed to be for me, a place for me to share my writing and that's all because it's what best for me mentally. While interaction and stuff is great and myself and other writers do love it, there can be a darker shadow that comes with it like asks that state gross shit in detail that they would do to me or all the hateful the comments on fics id have to delete. I've been stalked, sexually harassed, plain old harassed, bullied, manipulated, made fun of, blackmailed, backstabbed, lied about, exposed, yelled at, and called horrible names more than I've ever publically and openly ever shared with any of you on this blog and more times than I can count on two hands or even four. Some people are fuckin just... well, they're not good, and it's made me just a little bit bonkers as well. it could be manageable, any one or two or even three of these things I've listed could be manageable and enough to carry on, but it's been a lot to keep carrying with all of this built up over the past few years. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love this place and how it brings people together and helps make changes and do so much good, but at the same time FUCK this place and I say that from the bottom of my soul. It's time for me to stand back away from it all and start again where I limit everything. I just wanna chill and write somewhere fresh and that's what I've been doing and I love it so much and I don't think if trade any about of followers, notes, popularity, or whatever else for it, that's not what it's about for me and if it is for someone else then that's okay, that's fine, as long as they're not hurting others to get it. I'm just saying I'm having a hard time engaging normally on here with everything else that's happening and has happened, it's just a me thing and I speak for no one else and it's nothing at all that all of my kind, supportive, loving, and talkative followers and moots have done.

[stan-the-trash-man]

HAHAHAHAHA don't just spring this shit on me man. Welp it's 3am and I have no self control so (also, no idea how far I'm into this blog. Don't really care)

Bill Denbrough: my boy Kyle in the house! He's got all the qualities; a leader when needed, a brotective older brother, and stutter when stressed/angry. (Also, Kyle as a horror writer lessens my anxiety). You can't tell me this boy wouldn't fight tooth and nail to get his brother back from a fucking clown (or that his parents wouldn't blame him for Ike's death). Also, any au where Kyle plays basketball? BOOM welcome to IT where 40% of the Club's on the foot ball team and the rest are on track/cheer and/or sobbing in the stands.

Eddie Kaspbrak: Tweek Tweek! Two little balls of anxiety. Tweek, like Eddie, has parents constantly pumping him with something he doesn't need in order to "help" him (*cough* coffee *cough*). His parents also isolate him from people by having him constantly work in the coffee shop when he's not at school. Dudes just imagine Craig doing the Richie Climb through Tweeks window at three in the morning because he knows that boy is wide fucking awake and they hadn't seen each other all day. But yeah Tweet has a thing with pressure and Eddie can have an "asthma attack" (we all know it's a panic attack, Sonia, you dumb ass bitch) at the thought of contracting a disease. Anyway just cute Creek shit man.

Stan Uris: fuck this was hard. Honestly even though a lot of their traits don't match up, I'd have to say Stan (lmao I'm hilarious)? Like, he's a solid mix between Richie and Stan U., just in relation to their supportive relationship with Bill/Kyle. But just Stan's sarcastic comments and his strange humor that's only really brought out by Bill and Richie, they're really similar. They also both battle with depression and Stan U. eventually loses that battle but hey lets focus on the bright side. Stan M. is always dragging Kyle away from bad decisions and trying to give him other options. Also, Stan is a supportive man who's just there for Bill, like, always, and my Super Best Friends stand togther, no matter the cannon.

Ben Hanscom: Butters! Two boys with parents who just can't love them right. While it's not exactly the same (Ben's mother over feeds him to show love and Leo's parents punish him for tiny mistakes to take out their own frustration), they're experience with other people is SO similar like holy fuck. Ben, the bean, has trouble making friends and many people make assumptions about "the new kid". Even after getting a group of friends that have literally been through hell togther, he constantly feels like he's not needed and needs to prove himself. God this is making me sad I'm moving on

Mike Hanlon: Token. First off, no it's not because he's black. I have many other reasons, you heathens! First off, Token 👏 has 👏 a 👏 stable 👏 home 👏 life 👏. In the book, Mike it one of, like, two losers who has that. In the movie he has his grandpa and he witnessed his parents deaths bUT WE STAN NO TRAUMA IN THIS CHRISTIAN SERVER. Anyway, Token is literally smart as fuck? Like he just knows things and loves research and is a bean? And Mike, our lovable historian who WORKS AT A LIBRARY, and is the main source of info for the losers. It's a conspiracy man. Plus, all those head cannon's where Token ends up on the football team when he's older is f u c k i n g c a n n o n in every IT au like ever.

Richie Tozier: I see both Craig and Kenny taking his role. Just totally ignoring every sign of the monster and, when they finally see it, just blaming it on their fucked up mind. Kenny blocks out his troubles, and Craig uses a finger and stoic attitude to keep people away. They have shitty parents (in the books Richie's parents are just away a lot, but they're very wealthy. In the movie it's unclear, but most follow the abuse/to drunk to care head cannon. Either way, we've got poor boys' cast...).

Also, Jimmy man's most of Richie's jokes. I don't make the rules here sorry

Beverly Marsh: Clyde? Just like an amazing person who's a fucking badass. And (if I'm remembering this right; i don't know the SP cannon that well) doesn't Clyde's mother get killed BECAUSE of Clyde (no one blames you honey, it was an accident). And,,,, Clyde getting blamed by his dad? Though Bev deals with sexual assault and abuse and (as far as I know) that doesn't happen to Clyde, I feel like he's constantly ignored at home so that's why his filters just,,,, gone? Kinda like Richie, but more bad ass. And Clyde's fear is that is was truly his fault his mother died, so in the final battle he comes to terms (ahhhh)

Patrick Hockstetter: Cartman. Okay, so Cartman's an asshole who's obviously struggling with internalized homophobia, like Patrick (fuck flash backs to The Junk Yard). Also, speaking of The Junk Yard... we all know Cartman loves his cat very, very much... im sorry Mr. Kitty. But yeah in the books Patrick's mom lost his baby brother and just constantly cries? And his father just goes on business trips to avoid his family. Oh yeah, Patrick constantly tries to fuck his friends and rape his classmates. He's also a racist, sexist asshole. Sound like a familiar nazi?

Anyway, I spent way to much time on this. I just love IT and SP so this was long overdue.

south park IT au, who is who?